by Adriana Law
“No. But I get the sense you’re laughing on the inside.”
“Relax.” He grabs hold of what he explains is the rip line. Hot air rushes out. “It will be okay. I promise.”
“Oh God! What are you doing? Stop!” The basket is jarred loose. My eyes widen as I grab onto one of the cables in addition to the band of the basket. The movement tickles my belly and causes my eyes to water.
“See you in a couple of hours,” Sterling calls out to the man.
“Yes, sir. It’s supposed to be a beautiful day!”
“He’s not going with us?” my anxiety is taken to a whole new level.
“Nope.” Sterling’s muscles flex under the long sleeve shirt as he pushes and pulls, working on getting us up and off the ground. “You’re going to have to rely on me.”
“Do you even know how to operate this thing?”
“Since I was eight,” he flashes me a wicked grin and a wink. “One of the perks to being a Bentley.”
“Oh shit, we’re moving!” I yelp, punching his arm. “I really hate you right now!”
He chuckles. “You’ll get over it.”
“I doubt that,” I pout, staring over the side as we lift high above the school, high above the trees, higher and higher, up and up and away. The basket gently rocks in the breeze.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” I mumble, slamming my eyes tightly shut. I feel feverish. Dizzy. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. I’ll never forgive you”
“Hey. Look at me,” he says, the close proximity of his voice startling me. At some point he’d come to stand by me. After I don’t respond he takes it upon himself to cup my chin forcing me to do what he says. The sun illuminates his face, each individual lash. I keep my eyes on him and not on the fact that I’m surrounded by blue sky. He hesitates briefly. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Phoenix.”
I swallow hard, captured by the sincerity in his eyes.
“I believe you would never intentionally hurt me,” I say. “It’s accidents beyond your control that frighten me.”
His thumb absently strokes my jaw, his gaze demanding and steady on mine. “Are you thinking about heights right now?”
I blink. Staring up into his eyes I decide that right now—the piercing in his bottom lip catching my attention—I want to kiss him. His face is all angles: his jaw sharp, his chin square, his nose almost straight; the perfect subject when sculpting a block of wood. I could carve that face, but I’m afraid I’d never be able to do it justice.
His mouth curves, his hands going to my waist turning me into his body. His muscles are lean and strong under my palm. He clears his throat. “You’re no longer thinking about crashing, are you? I’m a good distraction, then?”
“I guess,” I answer, eyeing him suspiciously. What is he up to?
“You guess?” He lifts a brow, his head dipping, his mouth hovering near mine. A hot feeling consumes me, interest and excitement. He is overly confident that he can convince me to forget my fears by teasing me. “How about now. Are you distracted?”
I gently shake my head, my tongue coming out to dampen my lips. He watches the action like I knew he would.
“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to where we’re going?” I whisper.
“I’ve got it all under control,” his voice is raspy. “We own the sky right now, like the birds.”
One of my brows raise and I slightly pull back away from his lips.
He makes an impatient noise, diminishing the distance I put between us. “It doesn’t take much effort to control where we’re going. I’d rather let the wind take us wherever it wants to take us. That’s the best part … being surprised.”
“You know, for someone who pretends to not care about anything ....” I start but never finish when he tugs me up against him.
I’m thankful for the light breeze that hits my cheek, without it my skin might catch fire from his closeness. I’ve never felt this much anticipation over a simple kiss. Not with Colton. Not with Jonah. Not with anyone. My body radiates heat.
His teeth catch my top lip and my breath falters when his tongue follows the same path of his teeth, hot along the seam of my mouth. His lips mold mine, persuading me to open for him. My hand comes up to caress his cheek, his stubble rough against my palm. His hand presses into my waist, pulling me closer. When I draw a strangled breath his tongue slips in. Every part of me awakens in that moment. Parts of me I’ve ignored for too long. He tastes like youthful abandon and all things forbidden but you can’t resist. My fingers find soft wild hair, tangling into it. I lean into him and he makes a muffled groaning sound as his mouth slips to my neck which I arched for him. His teeth scraped skin, a sucking sound following. He urges me backwards, pinning me to the side of the basket.
Yes. He is the perfect distraction.
I forget where I am. Hell, I forget who I am or at least the old version of who I am.
He braces his hands on either side of the railing of the basket, his mouth moving up my neck returning to my mouth. My mouth opens giving him entrance, longing for the feel of his tongue against mine. He abruptly breaks the kiss, breathing heavy and stumbling back in a daze. I recognize the look of being incredibility turned on; because I’m sure I have the same look. My lips tingle in the cool air. Sterling doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t tell me what I did to make him stop he just latches onto the side, peering over the light breeze rustling his dark hair.
I step up beside him doing the same and draw in a deep breath at how high we are. I’d not been paying attention. We’re drifting, everything below us tiny. A smile touches my lips when realize I’m no longer afraid. I’m actually enjoying the balloon ride.
Maybe it has something to do with who I’m with.
“Makes you feel insignificant, doesn’t it?” he mutters, leaning over the side, balancing his forearms on the basket his hands clasped.
“I was going to say the opposite,” I reply. “I’m always so hung up on how I feel I never take the time to realize I’m a part of something … something larger.” I nod at the activity going on below us: busy streets, swarms of people appearing small going about their routines … It reminds me of an ant farm I made once for school, all of the ants working toward one common goal. “I feel less alone right now then I have my entire life.” I pause, glancing sideways at him. “Is that a smile?”
He shrugs a shoulder staring off into the sky, “You’ve given me a new perspective on hot air balloons. It looks like it might rain. We should get back.”
“Yeah, looks like rain,” I mumble.
Sterling turns away from me preoccupied with taking us back in.
He acts like the kiss never happened.
I start to wonder if it did or is I was dreaming.
“Come on in. Have a seat,” Starr calls over at me before turning back to the table where she is taking a couples order.
I hover over by the door, waiting. Starr glances my way again and she must be able to sense my tension. She holds up a finger that implies ‘give me a minute’.
“Hey, I didn’t come to eat,” I breathe out as she walks up.
“Is everything okay?” One of her hands goes to my upper arm, her blue eyes penetrating mine. “My God, you’re shaking. When’s the last time you had anything to eat?”
When we got home from the balloon ride he went out like he normally did. But this time he didn’t come back. It’s been four days and I need to know. It’s driving me crazy not knowing where he is.
“Have you seen Sterling?” gushes out.
Starr blinks, confused. “Not since you two were in here a couple of days ago. What happened? Did you two get into a fight? I know he can be a coldhearted bastard sometimes.”
My gaze widens at her brashness. “No. It’s nothing like that. He just … took off. I haven’t seen or heard from him in four days.”
Her face softens, there’s a look of pity.
“I’m sorry, Tori. It’s not unusual for him to ho
ok up with a girl and not call her after. It’s what he does. I hope you didn’t think…”
“I know, but he left his cell behind,” I hold it up as evidence. “He keeps getting all these weird text that make no sense… Starr, my gut tells me something is wrong.”
“Wait.” An arched brow goes up. “Sterling Bentley gave you his cell phone? THE Sterling Bentley? The same guy we both know? ”
I nod, crossing my arms over my chest. “At first I thought he left it as a hint that he wanted me to call my parents. But then I thought maybe he was trying to be nice. I don’t know what. Who knows with Sterling … All I know for sure is he hasn’t shown back up at his apartment in four days.”
She shakes her head, pulling me over to one of the booths, forcing me to sit.
She gives her few customers a quick glance before sliding in across from me. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re staying at Sterling’s apartment. He left you his cell phone—you assume—in case you needed it and now he is MIA and you’re driving yourself insane with worry?”
“That pretty much sums it up.” I laugh, to keep from breaking down. “He wouldn’t just disappear would he? I’ve seen his father …”
“Yeah, his father is a real bully.” Starr sighs, giving another quick look to her satisfied customers. “Okay, listen, I get off in thirty minutes. Tamara’s shift starts in another ten. Hang around and we’ll go look for him. I think I might know where he is. In the meantime I want you to eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.” I hug my stomach, nauseated.
“I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere with you until I see you eat.”
Starr is so much like Sterling it’s scary: from her tattoos to her desire to feed me. She slides out of the booth to go place an order for a pizza I’ll never be able to force down.
“It’s this way,” Starr says, nodding up the sidewalk. We turn left.
“Sorry. I had to change,” she says. “I’m not too comfortable going where we’re going in the short skirt; brings back old memories, makes me feel way vulnerable.”
In the break room of the restaurant Starr had changed into a pair of jeans and covered the white tank top with a short jean jacket with multi-colored beads on the pockets. Her dark natural curly hair cascaded over her shoulders being set free from its ponytail.
Now, her fingers nervously fidget with the amber necklace that is supposed to repel negative energy.
I can tell this is bothering her more than she is letting on.
We pass Sterling’s building and keep walking straight, past a row of shops. I cut a sideways glance at Starr.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
She hesitates, pondering how to answer. “How much has Sterling told you about himself?”
“Not much.” I focus on the sidewalk in front of us, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach.
“I’ve noticed needle tracks. But we’ve never talked about it,” I say, not mentioning the scars on his wrist.
Her head turns in my direction, a light warm breeze blowing the wisps of hair around her face.
“Yeah?” she raises a brow. “You noticed them?”
I nod, my throat suddenly dry.
“Why didn’t you ask him about the needles?”
“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t feel like I had any right. I figured he’d tell me if he wanted to.”
She buries her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Our feet sound over the pavement. The city lives and breathes around us. It’s evening; the sun is beginning to disappear behind the tall buildings. I can’t spend another sleepless night wondering where he is. I need to know for my sanity.
After a block of silence we turn down a side alley.
Starr clears her throat. “I met Sterling at the lowest point of my life. I was an addict. I did some horrible shit; turned tricks for cash, lied to my family, stole…”
“You don’t look like…” my words die off.
“You were going to say I don’t look like a junkie.” She laughs now, her blue eyes full of life. “Nobody ever thinks they can end up living on the streets, Tori, but it happens. It happened to me.” She removes a hand from a pocket quickly wiping away the few tears rolling down her cheek. She looks up at the sky and sniffs.
“Dammit! I promised myself I’d never go back there. I can’t believe he is fucking doing this to me; forcing me to come down here after his grumpy ass. He is smarter than this.”
A lump forms at the base of my throat making it difficult for me to swallow. I know she is talking about Sterling.
“Where is he?” I ask, needing a straightforward answer.
“I think he might be hanging out at this crack house we used to frequent a lot.” Her head turns back in my direction, shame and self-loathing oozing off her. “I bet you’ve never met anyone who’s turned tricks, have you?” She lifts the belly of her shirt showing a scar. “I bet you’ve never met anyone who’s been stabbed by a screw driver?” She lets the shirt fall back into place. “Don’t look so shocked. It happens. God, you must think I’m awful don’t you?”
My gaze travels over this beautiful girl. She doesn’t look hard or beaten down like I’d expect. She looks normal.
“No. Not awful. Amazing for beating it,” I tell her, because it’s the truth. I’ve never met anyone as strong as Starr.
“Yeah, well,” she snorts, “if you would have asked me two years ago where I saw myself in five years … I would have said dead.” She flicks a quick glance over her shoulder in the direction we just come from. “If you’d told me I’d be the manager of Something Italian, living in my own apartment, clean and sober, I would have said there is no fucking way. I was trapped in a nightmare. A fucking living nightmare I could never wake up from. I knew there were only two ways out—dead or by some miracle. Sterling Bentley was my miracle.” She studies my side profile. “You okay hearing this?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” I lie.
She sighs. “Sterling and I hooked up. Misery loves company, right? He was the only nice guy I’d ever met. Anyways, it meant more to me than it did him, enough to make me think family and kids were in the picture. It was enough motivation for me to check into rehab. I got out. Sterling didn’t want out.”
I hate the way the knowledge of what Sterling meant to her—maybe still means to her—makes me feel. Jealous when I have no right to be. These two have a past. Sterling and I have … what—one kiss?
“I’m sorry, Starr.” I give her a sincere smile.
She shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t be. I’m not. After Sterling I realized I wanted to kick it … for myself. I wanted my life back. I deserve the fairy tale. We all do. So, yeah, I’m not sorry. But I’ll always want what’s best for Sterling. Even when his life was shit he looked out for me.”
We stop walking and turn to face one another standing in the shadows of the narrow alley. A chill consumes me and I hug myself rubbing my arms to create friction. Truth is I’m scared to death. I’m scared of what I’ll see when we find him.
“You’re kind of wonderful,” I tell her. “He’s lucky to have you.”
A smile spreads across her face. “Now I know why you’re so special to him; why you’re the exception to his ‘never commit’ rule.”
“I’m no exception,” I say, my cheeks burning.
It’s true. I’m no one’s exception. We’re both talking about the same self-adsorbed, cold-hearted unattainable guy. He is no different with me than he was with her. Only difference is he gave me a key and a cell phone.
Not his heart. Never his heart.
“Oh yeah, trust me, you are Sterling Bentley’s exception. I knew that the instant he brought you into the restaurant. He has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you.” She nods at the lonely side door to a building. I hadn’t even notice we’d reached our destination. Trash litters the alley outside the door.
“This is it,” Starr says. “Maybe you should wait out here.”
“No. I want to go in.”
My voice is strangely steady, while the rest of me trembles.
“You sure, Victoria? This isn’t going to be easy to see. I’m not even sure he is in there, but if he is, hard telling the state he’s in. Might not be something you want to be faced with. Do you understand?” She tries to relay some kind of message with her eyes. “There’s a lot of skanks that will latch on to a guy like Sterling.”
“Skanks?” I mumble letting it register.
“Yeah, skanks who figure if they have to trade a blow job for drugs they would rather blow Sterling than some nasty ancient guy.” A look of horror passes over my face. She must notice. “You know what; you’re obviously not ready to see this. I’ll go in. Look around. If I find him I’ll assess how bad the situation is and then come get you.”
Floating Shit
Starr’s POV
This girl is determined to get her heart broken.
They say opposites attract. It must be true because Tori and Sterling are as opposite as it gets. She’s polished. He reeks of filth. I bet she likes things gentle. I know Sterling likes them hard and fast.
With my finger curled around the steel handle to the heavy door leading into the crack house I glance down at Tori’s hand lying on my arm.
“I’m coming in,” she tells me leveling me with a look. Her jaw is clenched and there is an uncertainty in her expression, but she is not going to give on this. She already has herself convinced she can save him. Problem is … Sterling Bentley doesn’t think he needs saving.
“Okay. Stay close and watch where you step,” I warn, yanking the door open. The wonderful stench of the crack house pours out into the alley tainting the fresh air.
“Oh Lord,” Tori covers her nostrils and mouth, coughing and gagging into her palm.
“If you think it stinks now, wait till you’re inside,” I say. “Not too late to back out.”
“I’m not backing out. Lead the way.”
She peers over my shoulder into the dim entrance to the basement.
We take the busted-up stairs down. An old worn out rug covers the cement floor. The only light comes through the broken windows along the foundation and the single light bulb dangling from the low ceiling. We pass a broken down mattress where a black thin man is curled up on his side. He is oblivious to us. To life. Lost in a world I’m familiar with. For a moment that undeniable urge to use slams into me. I remember the warm sensation. The out-of-it sensation. Flying high. Indescribable. Unstoppable. My mouth goes dry. Oh God, what I wouldn’t give to feel that dreamlike state one more time.
