finding Reese.: a SAFELIGHT novel vol.2 (SAFELIGHT Series) (20 page)

I swing my legs over the side of the mattress, and let them dangle there for a second. As I try to stand my ass lands right back on the bed.
Holy shit.
My body aches everywhere. It’s a delicious kind of pain, the kind that reminds you what you were up to the night before. I get up again and walk stiffly towards the bathroom, mumbling to myself when I hear his soft chuckles. I turn on my heel and see him leaning against the doorjamb; one hand resting against the door while the other is tucked in his front pocket.

“Rough night, babe?” he asks smugly, with a knowing smile on his lips.

My hands instinctively rise to cover myself, and my cheeks feel like they are on fire.

“I guess you could say that,” I reply with a scoff.

Stryder saunters to where I’m standing, and envelops me in a tight hug which I happily return. There is no place I’d rather be than wrapped in his loving embrace.

“Does it make me an asshole to feel proud you’re walking odd this morning, and it’s all because of me? Hmm?” he mumbles against my lips.

I nod into his neck, and take in his scent. He smells fresh, like right out of the shower, and the scent of his cologne mixed with the smell of his skin is a heady combination; it’s manly, but not overpowering; sweet, yet incredibly seductive. His hand lands on my backside and squeezes my ass cheeks like quite the caveman.

“Are you feeling sore?” he asks, as he kisses my hairline.

“Yes,” I mumble and squirm in place, which in turn makes him chuckle. I swat him playfully on the arm and continue, “Last night was absolutely beautiful. I loved every second of it.” I break our hold and walk towards the bathroom. “What’s your departure time?” At the last syllable my voice breaks, and I clear my throat as I wait for his response.

“One o’clock, but I have to be there by ten thirty. Jackson just got here. The three of us will go,” he answers quietly, his hands fidgeting in his front pockets.

I nod and quickly enter the bathroom. A part of me is undeniably sad, yet another is optimistic this separation could benefit us in the long run. I’ve been thinking a lot about our future, and there’s no doubt in my mind I want
us
to work. Let’s face it, we both have demanding careers, and our jobs require lots of travel on both short-and long-term assignments. If we cannot survive this separation, then at least I know we gave us
a shot. I want this to work. No . . . I
need
this to work.

After my shower, I wrap myself in a big fluffy bathrobe feeling more optimistic than I did. I’ve been thinking about picking up a hobby that will keep me busy while Stryder is away, plus I have Jackson to consider, too. He needs me now more than ever, and I’ll make sure he gets back in tip-top shape, and back on the slopes where he belongs. Having Jackson by my side will definitely make this upcoming month easier.

After styling my hair into a suicide roll I get busy with make-up. My spine straightens as I watch Stryder, in the mirror, collecting his toiletries from the shower. The cherry-red lipstick I was about to put on falls from my hand, landing into the sink as Stryder embraces me from behind. His eyes are dimmer than usual, and his forehead is scrunched as if concerned.

“Are you okay with this? With me leaving? Be honest.”

I look into his eyes in the mirror and brush my fingers over his tight hold.

“I’ll be fine, Stud. I have so much to do, I doubt I’ll miss you,” I reply with a wink.

Liar.
You big fat liar.
The cold hard truth is I’m not fine, but I can’t tell him that because he will cancel his assignment in a heartbeat. While I’d love to spend my days, nights every waking moment beside him, I need him to let him go so our relationship has a chance to grow. Sometimes we make sacrifices for the greater good, and it’s in those sacrifices we show what we’re made of and what we’re capable of achieving.

I can’t tell if he’s aware of my lies, and if he is, he says nothing. Our eyes stay put in the mirror, a mess-load of unsaid words floating between us. Will I miss Stryder Martynus?
Of-fucking-course.
It will take some getting used to falling asleep at night without his arms holding me, or his whispered words of affection that make my heart and soul fly when my eyes flutter open in the mornings. It will be tough sitting at the dining table without his hand brushing against my leg, or our mutual feeding routines reminiscent of our times in Whistler. What I’ll miss the most is the requited love and undeniable connection we share.

Stryder rests his chin against my shoulder and pouts. “You won’t miss me? Ouch.” I cradle my head against his and nestle into his warmth. He kisses the tender spot beneath my ear and breathes, “You can say you won’t miss me all you want, but this body of yours knows mine, and it will crave my touch every single day.”

I scoff at his words, but my heart thrills at the confidence behind them. He’s right in more ways than one. I will miss him, and my body will miss him more. Turning to face him, I let my thumb brush the soft skin of his lips. Stryder mumbles something unintelligible, and judging by the pained groan he lets out, I know it has to do with my affections.

“Oh, Stud. Your mornings will be the hardest. Pun intended,” I tease with a wink.

Stryder chuckles and shakes his head at my words. “Oh, Catalina . . . you and that mouth. I’ll miss all of you, from your sass to your body, and everything in between.”

He opens the bathrobe to expose my neck, his gaze falling on the star pendant hovering above the slope of my breasts. One of his fingers lifts the pendant to his lips and kisses it. “You are my North Star, Catalina. God, I’m going to miss you.”

I clear my throat and force a smile. He needs to hear reassurances which will hold him over while he’s away; while Stryder is sweet and kind, he’s also filled with insecurities just like me. I have to tell him something that will ease his mind allowing chance, destiny, fate, or whatever the hell you call it to take the lead.

“When you get back I want us to go away, just you and me, to somewhere beautiful and far away. Is that something you’d like to do with me?” I ask with an awkward smile. Stryder lets out a huff and brushes his knuckles against my cheekbone.

“I thought you’d never ask, Catalina. I’d love to,” he replies, eyes bright. “Tell you what. There’s this place in the Caribbean I think you’d like a lot. I’ll take care of all the details. “I can tell he’s excited, and right now I’m thankful I let my heart do all the talking. He stands tall; the confident man I’ve grown to love is back with that sensual, passionate look on his face. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself. Just us on a private beach with the warm sand beneath our toes, and the pale of the moonlight reflected on your skin . . .” he finishes with a hum.

I push him away softly, and giggle when he closes his eyes and licks his lips. This man, I swear. He has the innate ability to create the most delicious of scenarios in my head. Sometimes distractions prove to be useful most especially when there are goodbyes involved.

“Come on, handsome. I need to get dressed so we can be on our way.” My voice cracks at the last word, and Stryder lets out a ragged sigh. Just when I think he’s letting me go, his strong arms hug me again.

It’s hard to explain how this feels, but bittersweet comes close. Our hearts beat frantically against each other’s chests; not driven by desire, but by the innate awareness where we belong. This is how we should always be, standing together and braving the uncertainties that life throws our way. Love, true love, truly changes you. It’s not just an intense feeling or a sense of attachment; it goes far beyond that. Real love is not only sharing a connection with someone or having remarkable sex don’t get me wrong, though, we enjoy those things too. Finding love is a game-changer.

We understand each other, and we’re considerate of our needs, not only by our actions, but by the way they nurture our relationship. I’ve been in love once before, and I know it grows and evolves with time, but like a plant it can also wither away. I don’t want that to happen to us. I love Stryder with all of my being, and I’ll be damned if I let this die. In the past it was easy to resort to self-sabotage, but this love has changed my way of thinking, and this love will have a happy ending. I’ll be damn sure of it.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Stryder mumbles into my ear, interrupting my thoughts. I dry my tears against his sweater and melt against the hardness of his chest and strength of his arms. He squeezes me tightly. “I love you.”

Three words: subject, verb, and object. Only eight letters, yet they yield the power to make my heart sink to the pit of my stomach, and ricochet back to its rightful place.

“I’m right here. I was thinking . . . that’s all. I love you too.”

Stryder breaks our hug and holds my face with his hands. Tilting it, he massages my cheeks with his thumbs. “I know you’re not okay with this, and you’re trying damn hard to hide it. I know because I’m right there with you, hiding how I truly feel. Watching you pretend to be indifferent when you’re anything but kills me. I can see it in your eyes. Our careers bind us, and my client is hell-bent on working only with me. Plus, there are things I
have
to do and I know going away is for the best. Cat, you’ll be on my damn mind every day, from the moment I wake up until I pass out at night.

“I can’t stop
thinking of you because you’re the blood that runs through my veins, and life isn’t life without you in it. You better wait for me because at the end of the day, baby, you own me.” Using one hand, he gestures at himself, from his head all the way down to his shoes. Stryder then rests both of his hands over his heart, and confidently says, “This is all yours, Catalina.”

My heart somersaults at his words, and the sob I’ve been holding back unravels, tears streaming past my cheeks. “I’m yours too, Stryder. I just- I didn’t want to worry you with my emotional bullshit, that’s all.” I don’t know why, but hearing myself say that makes me laugh. “See? I’m a basket-case,” I declare amidst giggles.

There we stand in the middle of the bathroom laughing and crying and wiping our eyes, enjoying these last moments with no concern for the time. I reach for his chest and take hold of his hands, and intertwine them with mine. We bow slightly toward each other as our lips meet for a sweet kiss that tastes like ‘see you later.’

As if on cue, Jackson knocks on the door, calling our names, and we reply in unison, “Come in!” We look at each other and laugh while Jackson parades into the bathroom with an ear-splitting grin on his face.

“Well, aren’t you two just fucking adorable standing there holding hands? Are you ready to go? We have to get going if we want to make it to the airport on time,” Jackson says, looking at his wristwatch−his old-self back, and in rare form.

“Yeah, we are, sort of . . .” Stryder replies and then turns to face me. “I’ll leave you to get dressed.” He kisses the tip of my nose and then leaves the bathroom to collect his luggage. Jackson walks towards me with a half-smile, his eyes focused on mine. I take a deep breath and exhale shakily.

“You’re going to be just fine, Pardo. Before you know it, he’ll be back,” he says matter-of-factly.

I return his smile and nod. “I know . . . It’s just hard.”

In his best Michael Scott impression, he replies grinning, “That’s what she said.”

I laugh until my abdomen hurts, and Jackson gives me a peck on the cheek before he walks out of the bathroom so I can dress. Once ready, I retrieve my purse and climb into the backseat of Jackson’s truck.

“Dude, why am I not allowed to drive my own truck?” Jackson complains, on our way to the airport. “Catalina, earmuffs back there.”

I raise my hands to my ears pretending they are indeed earmuffs, but I can hear everything.

“Listen, my ankles are pretty much healed and so are my legs. My dick works just fine, so I don’t understand why there’s a problem with having my hands on the wheel. I’m just saying.”

I bite my lip, trying to contain my laughter while Jackson glares at me in the sun visor mirror. I stick out my tongue, and he rolls his eyes in response.

“Your ankles, legs,
and dick
have nothing to do with it. You’re still taking pain meds which clearly state you are not allowed to drive. Until you are done with them, you will not drive. Lei capisce?” Stryder answers nonchalantly, with his eyes focused on the road.

“Io capisco, old man. Gah!” Jackson grumbles and crosses his arms across his chest. “I’m not an invalid, asshole.”

As the truck traverses the winding roads of Casper, I sit back and contemplate my new life. They say time can change a person and make old things new. I agree wholeheartedly, but I hope my life doesn’t change again, and I pray with all of my heart this works out in the end.

“Text me as soon as you make the connection to L.A., okay?” I ask Stryder as we unload his bags from the truck. He stands on the sidewalk of the drop-off area and looks at me with sad eyes. He opens his arms, and I walk into them crying. “Be safe, Stud. That’s all I ask,” I whisper in between breaths.

His arms hold me in place, ignoring the airport transit officer urging us to wrap it up. He scowls at the officer, and says through gritted teeth, “Give us a moment, all right? This isn’t easy for either of us.”