Phoenix (Own The Skies Book 2)

by Emma Nichole

  “Concerned? I had just come off of a third shift. I was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but now look at us. You missed me so much you squeezed me in on a Sunday.”

  “But other than that, everything is well?” He adjusts his glasses, ignoring my attempt at humor.

  “Actually, yeah, for the most part.”

  “You don’t seem so sure.” He scribbles something on his notepad.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You are fidgeting and your answer wasn’t definitive. I’ve worked with you a long time, Case. I know how to judge your answers.”

  He’s right. I’m normally the yes and no man. Yes. No. Yes. No. Never “for the most part.”

  “I had the nightmare again,” I admit.

  “I see. How long has it been since your last?”

  “Years. I thought I had gotten past it.” I have the same nightmare every time. Drowning except this time, no one saves me. I die, and it’s fucking terrifying.

  “Case, until someone can truly overcome something that haunts them, it will continue to haunt them.”

  He’s been preaching this to me forever.

  “I know. Overcome. Don’t let a traumatic event define you and your life,” I recite the sentence with ease, having heard it ten thousand times.

  “And mostly, I think you’re doing just that. Overcoming and not letting what happened to you win, but you allow these flashes in. That’s what we will start working on next time.”

  He closes his notebook and places it aside.

  “Now that our formal hour is up, how’s work? How’s your family?” He takes off his glasses and rubs his hand down his face.

  I relax back on the sofa, resting my left ankle on my right knee. “Work is great. You know I love my job, and now that I have Arya with me full time, it’s even better. As far as family goes, they’ve never been better. I hope to get back up to Tennessee to see them soon.”

  “I hope you do as well. And your personal life? Sweeping any ladies off their feet?”

  Nora. Fucking Nora immediately pops into my head. The one woman who doesn’t want to be swept is the only woman I can think about.

  “Ah, you know me, there are always potentials falling at my feet.”

  “That arrogance will bite you in the ass one day when the right girl comes along and makes you fall at HER feet.”

  Once again...all I see is Nora’s face.

  Fuck.

  Nora

  There’s something to be said about waking up when you want to, and not when an alarm screams at you. In fact, I’d say there is no feeling in the world better than that. The sun peeking through the windows as you blink your eyes open, fully rested for the first time.

  Mmmmm. Orgasmic.

  I stretch in the soft sheets of the guest bed at Amelia’s house. The windows are open and the breeze is wafting in the smell of saltwater and beach air. This is almost better than coffee...almost.

  I push myself to sit up and yawn heavily, twisting and bending to pop various portions of my body. Amelia is cooking. I can smell the sweet smell of syrup and bacon all the way up here. I could get used to this. Waking up to the ocean, to my best friend’s cooking, and to the thought of seeing Case Carmichael all the time.

  Stop it. No.

  I shake off the thought of him and repress it back where it belongs. Right beside my sexual frustration, because that’s obviously the only reason I entertain thoughts of him.

  Right?

  A sharp buzz erupts from the nightstand, the vibrations from my cell phone loud against the wood. I reach over and yank it off the surface, smiling when I see it’s my big brother.

  “How’d you do?” I ask without even saying hello.

  “Good morning to you too, Little Sister, and...it was fucking incredible. TKO in one round. Fucker didn’t even stand a chance. I didn’t even bleed.”

  I hear a feminine giggle from his end before I can even respond to his statement. “Are you really calling me while there is a girl in your bed? Jesus Christ, Marco.”

  “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” he laughs.

  “You’re a pig.”

  “Yeah, but you love me.” I can hear him moving around and saying something to his companion. “I’m going into the main area of the suite, away from the riffraff.”

  “Riffraff? Did the fight make you an old man overnight?” I lie back on the bed, flipping him to speakerphone, so I can check my emails and social media accounts.

  “Shut up. Don’t you remember Dad saying it sometimes?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Nor, are you all right? How’ve you been since you made the trek down South?”

  “Well...Better, I think. I’ve only been here a night, so I guess I’ll let you know as time goes on. It is nice having a break though.”

  I haven’t really told anyone, outside of Amelia, how much I was struggling with work. I don’t want anyone’s pity or worry. Especially not my brother’s.

  “They work you too much.”

  “I’m a nurse. We are obligated to be overworked. It’s in the handbook.” I laugh, hoping he does too.

  “I just want to make sure you’re happy. You can always come on the road with me, you know. Travel a little.”

  “And see your bevvy of skanks. I’ll pass.”

  “Offer stands, and the bevvy of skanks are really nice ladies. You’d approve.”

  “Doubtful.”

  “Listen, I gotta hop off. I have a press conference this morning for the post fight interviews. Call me if you need me, all right?” I love my brother. He’s such a tough asshole on the outside, but so kind in his heart.

  “All right. I love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I kill the call and toss my phone to the end of the bed. Marco sounds more and more like my dad every single day. That both makes it easier and harder to talk to him.

  Even though I was a little kid when we lost them, I miss them every day, and hearing my Dad’s voice in his words makes me miss them even more.

  “Nora?” I hear Amelia call from the other side of my door. “Breakfast is ready. Bring an appetite.”

  “I’ll be right down. Just getting dressed.”

  Time to face the day, Nora. Enjoy it. That’s why you’re here.

  Chapter 6

  Case

  Cold. Pain. Anguish. Can’t breathe. Help. Save me. Dying.

  “Fuck!” I bolt upright in bed, covered in a cold sweat, heart beating out of my chest. Twice. This has happened twice in a month. All it takes is one dream, one thought, and everything spirals.

  I scrub my hand over my face and throw the covers back, climbing from bed and marching into the bathroom.

  I stand at the sink, gripping the edges and focus, attempting to catch my breath and lower my heart rate.

  This fucking nightmare. It haunts me like a fucking ghost.

  I am craving a run. Craving the distraction it gives to this bullshit, but the torrential downpour happening outside stops me.

  I glance at the alarm clock on my dresser to catch the time.

  5:34 a.m.

  Gym is open. Perfect.

  I pull on a pair of sweats and my SPD hoodie and head out the door, leaving Arya to sleep peacefully in the middle of my bed.

  The drive to the gym is fast, given the time, lack of traffic, and the weather. I make the trip with music pouring loudly from the speakers and one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting under the window with my hand on my chin in thought.

  I only have vague memories of that day at the pool with Grayson. We were young, stupid, and careless.

  And I nearly paid the price for it.

  I pull into a parking spot near the front and make my way through the large sliding glass doors, into the lobby.

  It’s a huge gym. Larger than needed for such a small city, like Savannah, but some rich family here built it up and it’s been modernized every few years since it opened.

  It’s three
stories with a large, glass-enclosed Olympic-sized swimming pool as the centerpiece. It’s quite impressive, actually. Not that I’ll ever use it. I just come for the treadmill and the ring.

  I slide my keycard to access the main glass hallway that leads to the men’s locker room. It runs parallel to the pool, so you can see it, and whomever is in it, all the way down. The gym itself is nearly empty, with only a handful of cars in the parking lot, so I know the locker room and the portion of the gym I need will be mostly private.

  Excellent. I prefer to run alone.

  I reach the end of the hall when I hear the door to the pool open from the other side, and it pulls my attention. I only intend to glance briefly, my cop senses on high alert, and I’m always aware of my surroundings, but a familiar pile of blonde hair holds my gaze.

  Nora.

  She’s wrapped in a towel with her hair up in a wild bun on top of her head and black flip-flops on her feet.

  I shouldn’t be staring like a creep, but I can’t help it. She’s so goddamn beautiful.

  She stares off at the water and I see her shoulders rise and fall, as if she released a large sigh. What’s going on in that head of hers?

  I step closer to the glass for a better view when I see her tugging at the towel.

  She pulls it from her body and tosses it over the back of one of the chairs that line the walls. She’s dressed in a blue one-piece bathing suit, but the back is completely missing and is only held on by bright orange lacing from the small of her back to her neck.

  She looks good enough to eat. My cock instantly responds to the sight.

  Fucking chill, Case. You’re like a goddamn Peeping Tom.

  But I don’t chill. I don’t look away. I watch as she slips her shoes off and tugs the tie from her bun, sending waves of blonde hair down her back. I know from experience her hair smells like the slightest hint of coconut when the wind hits it, and I suddenly have the urge to slide my hands through it.

  She stands at the pool’s edge for just a moment before diving in. She’s so graceful she hardly makes a splash.

  I don’t know exactly how long I stand here, watching, spying, but she swims from one end to the other over and over and over. Only pausing for brief periods of time to catch a breath or two.

  She’s free in the water. I can tell. I find myself becoming envious of her ease with it. I’d give anything to conquer the one thing that turns me back into a little boy.

  She has disappeared under the water again, and I can’t really make out where she is until her head breaks the surface near the stairs. Her hands slide over her head, slicking her hair back and out of her face, as she turns to sit on the second stair.

  Her bottom half is under the water, but her top half is fully exposed.

  She leans back with her hands balanced on the stairs and arches her chest out, like she's stretching her neck and her back, but all she’s doing is giving me a primo view of her breasts. I am a man after all, so her position only makes me wonder if that’s how she’d look coming with my head between her thighs.

  I swallow hard, making an audible sound like in the movies. I nearly have to grip the wall to keep myself from marching in there and taking her like the caveman she turns me into.

  I close my eyes and look down, taking a breath and counting to thirty. She drives me fucking mad. Some would say it’s because I want her and haven’t had her, but I know better. It’s because she’s just...perfect.

  She’s also a magician because when I open my eyes—and look up for one last peek—she’s gone.

  Nora

  His eyes on me felt good. Really good.

  I didn’t see him at first, of course, but the minute I did, I didn’t want him to know. I wanted to see how long he’d watch me, and I didn’t want to embarrass him.

  Though, I may have laid it on a little thick with that arched back, chest pop thing I did on the stairs, but a girl has to have fun sometimes, right?

  I step into the shower inside the women's locker room and let the cool, crisp water wash over the top of my head and down my body, rinsing the chlorine from my skin.

  I didn’t intend on coming here this morning, but with the rain and the need for a swim after being unable to sleep all night, I had to.

  I waited for Grayson to wake, as he does at the ass crack of dawn, then I sweet-talked him into letting me use his truck, and I came right here with his gym membership card.

  I wonder what Case was doing here so early?

  Not that I’m complaining. As much as I’ll deny it if anyone asks, I enjoy his presence.

  I reach into my shower bag and pull out my coconut shampoo and lather up my head, inhaling the sweet tropical scent.

  I take my time, enjoying the seclusion and silence the shower brings. The steam opens me up and relaxes me. The steady sound of the water hitting the tile grounds me. Water, of all kinds, truly is my happy place.

  When I finish in the shower, I turn off the water and wrap in a towel, stepping out into the cool locker room.

  I dress myself in a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a red tank top, forgoing a bra since I’m going right back to the house and right back to bed.

  I leave my hair wet and slightly wavy, because the rain will destroy it anyway, and obviously, I can’t be bothered with makeup.

  Gathering up my things, I head down the long glass hallway by the pool and open the door into the lobby, nearly colliding with someone or something that was standing just on the other side.

  “Oh! Shit.” The collision makes me drop all of my things to the floor, bag of clothes included, sending my bra and panties flying across the marble floor.

  “Nora, holy shit. Are you all right?”

  I feel strong hands wrap around my arms and pull me to my feet like I weigh nothing. I blow my hair out of my face and my eyes meet the hazel irises of Case Carmichael’s.

  We stand there silently for a moment, just staring at each other like we are entranced, and a small smile curls at the corners of his lips. I open my mouth to speak, but a shrill, too high voice breaks through the moment.

  “Uh, Case, I think she hit her head on the fall. She’s not answering.”

  I look to my left and find the reason Case was standing here in the first place. Some brunette beauty with clearly fake boobs and a face full of makeup.

  Who comes to the gym in a full face? Jesus.

  I look from her to him and back before speaking. “No, I didn’t hit my head. I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again.

  “I’m fine.” I bend quickly to gather my belongings, specifically my underwear, and shove them back in my bag.

  “Maybe, next time, watch where you’re going and this won’t happen.” Brunette Barbie says with a rich, Southern accent I immediately hate.

  “Thanks. I’ll be sure to take that advice to heart. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you both to your...conversation.”

  I scurry passed them to the door, or at least I try to.

  “Nora. Wait.”

  I stop and turn to face him as he jogs across the lobby, leaving Miss Big Boobs to go down the hallway alone.

  “You didn’t have to leave your friend. I was just leaving. I’m really okay.” I slide my hand through my hair. I always do when I fidget.

  “My friend? Her name is Bridgette and we went out once. Hardly a friend. More of a...”

  “Fuck buddy?” I interrupt.

  “Never got that far. Not into the big fake boobs. I prefer the boobs I’m touching to be soft and pliable. Not bowling balls.”

  This pulls a laugh from my throat.

  “You’re not very stealthy you know?” I say.

  “What do you mean? Of course, I am. It’s my job to be stealthy.” He leans against the door, still beaded with sweat from his workout, and I have to fight the urge to lean in and inhale his scent.

  “I saw you watching me swim.” I smile sweetly, watching the embarrassment take over his face.

  Poin
t one for me.

  “You saw that, huh? I was just watching in awe, wondering why someone who is on vacation comes to the gym before sunrise, in a rainstorm, to swim.”

  “It’s my coffee,” I lie, sort of. It is my coffee, but I don’t divulge it’s also my therapy. “Instead of staring, you should have joined me. It’s great cardio.”

  I see something flicker across his face. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but it’s something. Fear? Sadness? I’m not sure.

  He doesn’t miss a beat though, moving easily past my comment. “Speaking of coffee, come have breakfast with me?” he asks.

  He’s never going to give up, is he?

  Do I want him to?

  “I would, but I’m fresh from a shower—no makeup—I’m not even really dressed and...”

  He cuts me off with two hands on my shoulders. “Stop looking for another excuse and just say yes,” he scolds.

  He’s right. I really am just looking for an excuse because I’m scared of being alone with him. Scared of getting to know him more because he’s amazing now; he’ll be impossible to resist if I see more of him, I feel it, but I can’t say no.

  “Okay. Just let me go put a bra on...I’d at least like to be decent.”

  “There’s not a thing wrong with how you are right now.”

  “Typical man response, especially because it’s raining and you’re hoping for an impromptu wet T-shirt contest.”

  “I just meant, your face is makeup free and absolutely stunning, but now that you mention the wet T-shirt contest...Ouch!” He laughs when I swat his arm. “Go change anything you’d like. I’ll wait right here. I don’t have to be on shift until this afternoon.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll be right back.”

  I turn on my heel and head back to the bathroom to put on my bra and smile like a fool when I feel his eyes on me as I walk away.

  I leave my face makeup free, as his compliment made me swoony, and just put on a bra under my tank top and wind my hair into a quick side braid. I give my mouth a quick rinse with the mouthwash in my bag and I’m ready to go.