Something in the Air (Running on Air Book 2)

by L.H. Cosway

  Sarita leapt up from the couch, her eyes going to my suitcase. A smile spread across her face. “Are you back for good?”

  I nodded, unable to help smiling too. I hadn’t realised just how much I missed these two while I’d been staying at James’. They weren’t just friends, they were family. “Yes, I’m back for good,” I replied and she pulled me into a tight, squeezy hug.

  “This calls for a celebration. Want a glass of wine?” Sarita suggested.

  “Sure,” I said, lowering myself into the armchair next to the couch as she went to open a bottle.

  Afric gave me a chin nod, which was her version of Sarita’s hug. “Welcome back, pal.”

  “Thanks. So, what’s been going on while I’ve been away?”

  “Not much,” Afric replied. “Sarita’s band came here to practice the other day and the man who lives in the flat above us threatened to call the police if they didn’t turn the noise down. And I thought I was the troublemaker.”

  “It was two o’clock in the afternoon,” Sarita said as she miraculously managed to carry over three glasses of wine in one trip. It was a skill. “I didn’t think the neighbours would be bothered. And besides,” she went on, eyeing Afric. “You’re one to talk.” Now she looked to me. “You’ll never guess what I caught her doing two nights ago.”

  “What?” I asked, intrigued.

  “Oh, shut up. It wasn’t that weird,” Afric said dismissively.

  “I think fashioning yourself an adult nappy using household items is pretty fucking weird,” Sarita argued.

  I burst out laughing. “What!?”

  “I’m trying to break the world record for longest gaming marathon. Needing to use the bathroom is a problem I’m still trying to solve,” Afric explained.

  “Oh, well, when you put it like that,” I said, still chuckling. “Why didn’t you just go buy some from a medical supply shop? Or better, order them online.”

  “Because I didn’t have time for that,” Afric answered.

  “There’s no point trying to find logic in it,” Sarita said, shaking her head. “But anyway, tell us about New York. Did you get to do much sightseeing while you were there?”

  “Yes, actually. I saw quite a bit, but, um, something else happened that I wanted to tell you both about.” I swallowed thickly. After all this time, I was finally going to tell my friends about James. It felt surreal, but I needed to do it. They didn’t keep secrets from me so I shouldn’t keep secrets from them either.

  “What is it?” Sarita asked, her lips turning into a frown when she saw my nerves.

  I hesitated, not knowing how to start.

  “Oh, come on. Out with it already,” Afric said impatiently.

  “Well, you know how I’ve been spending a lot of time with James,” I started. Sarita and Afric shared a weird look. Sarita frowned while Afric’s expression turned satisfied.

  “Ha! I called it!” she exclaimed and I grew confused.

  “What did you call?”

  “That you had a thing for James. That’s what you want to tell us, right?” Afric replied. “I mentioned my suspicion to Sarita a few weeks ago. Remember that day when he came over to help you with your suitcase? Well, I noticed that you two liked each other then. Sarita said I was imagining things. Not so imaginary now, huh?”

  Wait, a second. She noticed we liked each other? Had James liked me even back then? The thought sent a flutter through me as my cheeks heated, embarrassed that Afric had found us so transparent.

  “Don’t go getting ahead of yourself. Michaela hasn’t told us anything yet,” Sarita said, turning to level her eyes on me. “Is it true?”

  My gaze fell to my lap. “Yes,” I whispered.

  “You see?” Afric interjected. “Nothing gets past me. I’ve got the gift.”

  “But he’s your boss,” Sarita said, ever the level-headed one. “What exactly happened in New York?”

  “You’re right, he is my boss, but not for much longer. We agreed I wouldn’t work for him anymore, just the rest of the cast. And in New York, well, we sort of…”

  “You slept together?” Afric guessed.

  “Almost.”

  “Wait, what does ‘almost’ mean?” Sarita questioned.

  “It means everything apart from full sex,” I said, one eye closed as I gauged their reactions.

  “Nice,” Afric grinned while Sarita looked concerned for me and it was obvious why. I’d just told her I’ve been intimate with my boss, who’s nine years older than me, and who just got out of a long-term relationship, and also whose mother just passed away. Those were a lot of complications, but she didn’t know about the way I felt when I was with him. James helped me discover the woman in me who didn’t want to be invisible anymore. She wanted to be seen, and it was the most liberating feeling in the world.

  Sarita rubbed at her temples. “Okay, this is probably going to require another bottle of wine, but start from the beginning and leave nothing out. I want to know everything so that I can decide if this is the best decision you’ve ever made or the worst.”

  So I did. I told my best friends about developing feelings for James months ago, about liking him from the day we first met. Then I found out he was engaged and decided that whatever I felt, I’d take it to my grave. I told them about how we gravitated towards each other, spending time together in between working and having so many things in common. I told them about the difficult decision to move into his house, and then the period after his mother died when he broke up with Diana. Lastly, I got to the part about New York.

  Afric had mostly been smiling the whole time, but Sarita was harder to read. She wasn’t frowning anymore, but she wasn’t not frowning either.

  “Well,” I said, anxious for their opinions. “What do you think?”

  “I think you had a fantastic time in NYC,” Afric said with a wink. “Well, aside from it being cut short and all.”

  Sarita blew out a breath, then levelled me with a soft, caring expression. “The circumstances aren’t ideal, but I think you and James are falling in love.”

  I blinked, her words sending a flurry of butterflies through my stomach. It felt like the truth, but I didn’t want to chance fate by believing it. James and I had talked about what we were doing, but he hadn’t expressed his full feelings and neither had I. We were stuck in limbo.

  We talked for a while before Afric stood from the couch. “If you two don’t have any other plans for the night, care to come vape some CBD oil in my room and watch The Dark Side of Oz on my laptop?”

  I furrowed my brow. “What’s The Dark Side of Oz?”

  Afric’s lips curved into a smile. “You’ve never heard of it? Good. Prepare to have your minds blown. Come on.”

  Sarita and I shared a look before following Afric into her room. We all got settled on her bed as she fired up her vape pen and navigated to YouTube on her laptop. “So, there’s this coincidence where if you sync Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon up with The Wizard of Oz, the music freakily matches the movie. The band insisted it wasn’t intentional, which makes it even freakier.”

  I grinned, because this was such an Afric thing to discover. “That is freaky,” I agreed.

  “I’m just surprised you like Pink Floyd,” Sarita put in. “At least your taste in music isn’t completely terrible.”

  “Funny,” Afric deadpanned as we sat back to watch. My emotions were still in this new, uncharted territory, and a night like this with my two best friends was exactly what I needed.

  The next morning I woke up to my phone ringing and my heart skipped a beat when I saw James’ name on the screen.

  “Hello,” I answered eagerly.

  “Michaela,” James breathed. “I’m so sorry I’ve been out of touch. Things have been hectic. I just drove Dad home from the hospital this morning. I’ve barely had a chance to check my calls.”

  “No worries. Is your dad okay?”

  “The doctors say he’ll be all right. We just need to keep a close eye on
him. Me, John, Shanise, and Gabrielle are going to take it in shifts. I’m watching him today, but I’ll be free tonight. Can I cook you dinner?”

  “Oh,” I said, delighted by the offer. “Sure, I’d like that.”

  “I take it from the voicemail that you’re not at the house,” he went on.

  “Yes, I moved back to the flat. I thought it might be weird with me staying there what with us, um…”

  “I don’t think it’s weird. You’re welcome to stay anytime, but I understand where you’re coming from. I haven’t had time to talk to everyone about us yet, but I will tomorrow. I’ll get everything sorted so that work runs as smoothly as possible for you when you go to the gym on Monday.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “That means a lot. I just don’t want everyone to think—”

  “No one is going to have a problem with us being together, Michaela. In fact, I’m pretty sure most of them will be happy about it. They all think you’re great. You know that, right?”

  I hesitated, warmth filling me at his kind words. I was so glad I’d gone to the interview that day, so glad I got to work for this group of wonderful people who were so different from anyone I’d known before.

  “Stop by the house tonight at about seven. I’ll have dinner ready,” James went on.

  “Okay, I will. See you then.”

  “See you.” He hung up and my stomach filled with nerves and anticipation. James was cooking me dinner. I flopped back into my pillows, unable to wipe the smile off my face.

  ***

  That evening I knocked on the front door when I arrived at James’. I’d left my key on the nightstand in my room before I left yesterday so I couldn’t let myself in. My pulse pounded as James’ recognisable footsteps sounded down the hall, then a second later, he filled the doorway.

  He looked tired but handsome, thick stubble on his jaw showing he hadn’t had time to shave yet. Acting on instinct, I pulled him into my arms and hugged him tight. He seemed to melt into my embrace, his arms sliding around my waist and pulling me close. I heard him breathe me in, as though drawing strength from it.

  We stayed like that for a long time. When we finally drew apart, I stared up at him, my voice quiet as I stroked his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better now,” he replied. “Come in. I made carbonara and garlic bread.”

  “It smells amazing,” I said, the delicious scent wafting down the hallway.

  He led me into the kitchen then pulled a seat out for me at the table. I sat, impressed by his gentlemanly manners. I thought of the last time I saw him, and how he’d been about to do something very ungentlemanly to me. My cheeks heated at the memory.

  James plated up the food, bringing it over to the table before taking the seat opposite me.

  “You’re staring,” I said after several moments of quiet eating.

  He averted his gaze. “Sorry. It’s just good to see you.”

  “Don’t apologise. I like it when you stare at me,” I said, an attempt at flirting. James’ expression warmed.

  “I miss you in this house,” he said and my chest fluttered.

  “I’ve only been gone a day. Besides, the renovations are basically done. You don’t need me anymore.”

  “I think I need you in a different way now,” James said, a rawness in his voice.

  My heart melted. “I think I need you, too.”

  He leaned his elbows on the table, his brown eyes framed by lashes thicker than any man deserved. A playful glint came into them. “So move back in.”

  A smile tugged at my lips. “Nice try, but living together is the opposite of taking things slow.”

  He gave a flirtatious pout. “I thought we agreed slow was for dummies.”

  I pointed my fork at him. “We agreed on nothing of the sort.”

  James sat back, exhaling, his posture relaxed as he took me in. “Okay, then, don’t move back in. I’m selling this house anyway. I’ll just convince you to move into my next house.”

  Was he trying to kill me with that cheeky smile? The thought of a future where I moved in with James as his girlfriend was a little much for me to handle. I had to force myself not to think about it.

  “How was your dad today after you brought him home?” I asked, needing a change of subject. If he kept looking at me how he was, I might climb across the table and into his lap.

  His eyes went to his plate, his expression sobering. “He was okay, but we’re taking each day as it comes. I think his grief blinded him to how much he was drinking. Or maybe he was drinking to drown out the grief. Mum was the love of his life. They were together for forty years.”

  “Wow. That’s a long time.”

  James nodded. “They met when Dad was seventeen and Mum was sixteen. Both of them worked on the Brixton market. He had a job on a fruit stall and used to bring her strawberries every Saturday.”

  “I go shopping there sometimes,” I said, smiling fondly. “So, is that how he wooed her?”

  “I think so. Mum’s always had a sweet tooth. Anyway, Dad’s never been a heavy drinker, which is why this took us all by surprise.”

  “I’ll bet,” I said, pausing a moment before asking, “Is your dad religious?”

  James shook his head. “He was raised Muslim, but he’s not practicing. Mum’s family were Protestant. Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, well, it’s just that my dad does grief counselling for some of his parishioners when they need it. I was thinking maybe he could help your dad. They could talk over the phone or something. It doesn’t matter if he isn’t religious. Dad likes helping people, no matter their spiritual beliefs.”

  “Shanise and I were discussing getting him to talk to a professional,” James said thoughtfully. “Maybe something more informal would work better.”

  “Think about it. You don’t need to decide now.”

  His face grew tender, his focus wandering over me. “What would I do without you?”

  I flushed. “I just care about you. I want to help.”

  Now his eyes blazed. We’d finished eating, and the table that separated us felt like way too much space. I’d missed him so much these last two days. We’d been growing so close, building to some kind of crescendo before we came to an abrupt stop. Now all I wanted was to soak him in again, get back to that blissful place we’d been in.

  Standing, I walked around the table then lowered onto his lap, bringing my arms around his neck. James stared at me, looking fully relaxed now. His hands came to rest on my thighs, his warm palms shooting tingles of awareness all the way to my stomach.

  James’ eyes grew hooded as he breathed a quiet greeting. “Hey.”

  “Kiss me,” I said, unable to wait a single second more without his lips on me.

  James arched an intrigued eyebrow at my command, causing butterflies to play havoc with my insides. He bent forward, tentatively brushing his lips over mine. Then I opened my mouth, capturing his lips and sliding my tongue in, cajoling him to respond. His hands tightened on my thighs, his fingertips digging in. I continued to kiss him, a low sigh escaping me when his tongue finally responded, tangling with mine.

  One hand slid from my thigh to my lower back, then up my spine to cup my neck. Something about that sent a whirl of arousal through me. I shifted against him, needing more contact. His hand moved up my nape and into my hair.

  “I love your taste,” he murmured, leaning into the kiss more.

  I squealed when all of a sudden he lifted me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. James made a deep, masculine sound that sent shivers down my spine. He didn’t break the kiss as he carried me into the living room and laid me down on the couch. Thankfully it was spacious enough to accommodate us both. I was also glad the blinds had been fitted while we were away, otherwise we’d be giving the neighbours a show.

  He settled between my legs, his erection flush with my core. We kissed for a long time, heating each other up until we were fit to boil over. Every part of me yearned to be filled by him.
He caressed my breast, moulding it over my top, and my nipples begged for his mouth. His hand went lower, dipping past the waist of my bottoms and underwear. I whimpered when his fingers brushed my sex, my clit throbbing for attention.

  He let out a low, frustrated groan. “You feel incredible.”

  “Don’t stop,” I cried when his thumb brushed my clit.

  “I want to be inside you, Michaela,” he went on, whispering his lips across my earlobes. “Would you like that? My cock inside you?”

  “Yes,” I moaned. “Please.” I reached for his pants, but he stayed my hand.

  “I don’t have any condoms,” he said, a tortured note in his voice.