The Spiral Down

by Aly Martinez

  Darting in front of her, I blocked her path to the door. “Don’t leave like this.”

  “Right. And what? You just want me to stay in your house knowing you’ll never feel the same way I do.”

  “I didn’t say I’d never feel the same.” Deep down, I knew I wouldn’t. But I figured that information wasn’t going to help my case.

  Nikki was an incredible woman. Beautiful. Sweet. Funny. Smart. I loved spending time with her. I loved coming home from a long flight and knowing she was at home waiting for me. I loved the way her body felt underneath mine.

  I just didn’t love her.

  We had an undeniable connection, but it didn’t overwhelm me. Thoughts of her didn’t consume me. Nor did carnal need set me ablaze.

  Nikki was the spark, but she wasn’t the fire.

  But maybe love didn’t have to be a wildfire burning out of control, devouring you until there was nothing left of you for anyone else.

  But that’s all I’d ever known it to be.

  Maybe the level of comfort I shared with Nikki was what true love really was. Maybe it was standing in front of me and I’d set my expectations too high. Maybe I was about to watch the best thing that had happened to me since college walk out of my life just because it didn’t hurt enough to feel like love.

  Maybe.

  But the ice that encased my heart told me it wasn’t.

  I needed the flames. I needed the burn. I needed the undeniable explosion.

  Her chin quivered as her lips tipped up in a half smile. “Can I move in with you then?”

  I blinked in confusion. “Nik, you basically already live here.”

  She took a step toward me. “No. I mean…can I move in with you, Evan? No basically. No practically. Can I pay the electric bill and give up my apartment?”

  My pulse spiked. I didn’t realize I had taken a step away until she moved toward me.

  “That’s what I thought,” she whispered, fighting back more tears. “Move, Evan. I need to go.”

  “Wait.” I sidestepped to stop her. What the fuck was I doing? Let her go, jackass.

  Guilt lodged in my gut as I stared into her red-rimmed eyes. Scanning through every possible excuse, I tried to find the right words that would keep her with me without having to lie to her face. I wanted nothing more than to return her feelings. I would have sold my soul just to feel the fire again.

  But I’d never feel it with her.

  I was only fighting the inevitable. “We at least need to talk. Are you coming back?”

  She sucked in a shaky breath. “I don’t know.”

  Raking a hand through my hair, I told her the most honest thing I had to offer. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  She cupped my cheek and peered into my eyes. “I don’t want to leave, either.” The pain etched across her face told me it was the truth. The resolve in her stiff body told me it was going to happen anyway.

  “Nik, come on,” I said like a dumbass.

  She wasn’t being irrational. She had just realized she wasn’t ever going to get what she wanted from me. And yet there I stood, asking her to stay anyway.

  “Let me go, Evan,” she breathed. The deeper meaning of her statement wasn’t lost on me.

  Pain sliced through me, but short of lying and discrediting everything I had ever felt, I had no other choice.

  My hand fell away, and seconds later, she was gone.

  “Son of a bitch,” I growled, banging the heel of my hand against my front door.

  The sound of her car pulling out of my driveway rumbled in my ears—and my heart.

  Nikki was the best thing I’d had in years. Yet it still hadn’t been enough. Nothing was, and it was exhausting.

  This was for the best.

  It just didn’t feel like the best though.

  It fucking hurt.

  After snatching my phone out of my pocket, I typed out a text letting her know I would be there when she was ready to talk. If she wanted to leave, I couldn’t stop her. But I wasn’t going to let things end like that, either. I owed that much to both of us.

  Twenty minutes later, my eyes were aimed at the football game playing on TV, but my mind was elsewhere.

  On Nikki.

  On my past.

  On my life.

  On my future.

  Lost.

  I’d woken up that morning content. Not happy. But I’d had nothing to complain about.

  Now, I felt nothing but unease.

  My phone rang, and I immediately snatched it up off the table. “Nik?” I answered without looking at the caller ID.

  “Roth? It’s Jackson. I need you at the airport in twenty minutes.”

  “Sorry, sir. I’m off today.”

  “Not anymore. I’ve got a private jet, a rock star on a timeline, and no pilot.”

  Sitting up, I asked, “What happened to Craig? I thought that was his flight?”

  He sighed. “It was. Chest pains. Baez turned it around. Listen, he’s fine. But I need a captain in that cockpit in thirty minutes or Air Traffic Control can’t fit us back in for hours. Now, get dressed and get your ass up here, or you’re fired. I absolutely cannot afford to lose this guy. He owns his own plane and uses us exclusively. It’s the closest thing to free money that exists. Oh, and this guy is terrified of flying, I need you smooth up there.”

  I rolled my eyes. It could have been raining bullets from the sky and I still could have landed that thing on a motherfucking postage stamp. I didn’t need a reminder on how to fly.

  “Right. Smooth.”

  “I’m serious, Roth. Jump your cocky ass off your pedestal and do me a solid here.”

  Weighing my decision, I glanced back at the door as if Nikki might barge through it at any minute. She wouldn’t. She’d have to come back and get her stuff eventually, but it wasn’t going to be today. No point in waiting. Flying was the only thing that could make me feel better.

  Pushing off the couch, I started toward my bedroom. “I’ll be there.”

  Hurry up and wait.

  I’d made it to the airport in plenty of time, but due to the heavy rains in the area, all flights had been delayed. Air traffic was backed up for at least an hour.

  I wished I’d stopped to grab some food on my way. I was starving, but the tiny, private airport wasn’t exactly brimming with restaurants.

  After dropping a few coins in the vending machine, I made my selection then once again checked my cell phone.

  Nikki hadn’t replied to my text. And the more time that passed, the more I worried she wasn’t going to.

  Not if she’s smart.

  “Shit,” I mumbled to myself as my dinner became stuck behind the glass.

  Suddenly, a man’s yell snapped my attention from the snack machine. “No!”

  A tall guy with messy, blond hair was staring at me from the other end of the hall. His hands were fisted at his sides, but his eyes were wide with absolute terror.

  “No,” he repeated on an eerie whisper.

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Uhhh,” I drawled before looking over my shoulder to see who he was talking to.

  When my search came up empty, I glanced back in his direction and found that a behemoth had sidled up beside him. At six-two and two hundred pounds, I was a big guy. But I could only assume that this guy went by the name of Brutus, Butch, or Damien.

  “Henry,” the giant warned.

  The obviously frazzled man strode forward, closing in on me. He was an inch shorter than I was, but while my frame held bulk, his was lean with a toned, muscular build. How a simple pair of jeans, a black V-neck T-shirt, and a pair of boots screamed money, I’d never understand. But he might as well have left dollar bills instead of footprints on the tile as he stormed toward me.

  Squaring my shoulders, I stood my ground. “You need something?”

  “Please, God, tell me you’re not my new pilot.”

  Ah, yes. The spoiled rock star.

  It didn’t take but a second for me to recognize
him. Hell, most people could have identified Henry Alexander. He was about as famous as they came and had been on the cover of every magazine over the last few years. The moment he released a new single, radio stations across the country joined forces to cram it down the throats of Americans everywhere. His music was good—the first five hundred thousand times. After that….

  There was no denying he was a superstar. Women adored him, despite the fact that he was openly gay.

  My heart sank at the thought.

  Nikki loved this guy. She would have died if she knew he was my passenger today. Something I’d probably never get the chance to tell her.

  “No way you’re a pilot,” he said when I failed to answer.

  I’d already been in a shit mood, but thoughts of Nikki only made it worse.

  I smiled condescendingly and then smoothed down the white shirt of my uniform. “Nah, but I figured I’d give it a try.” I popped a shoulder in a half shrug. “It can’t be that hard, can it?”

  It was a joke. But, judging by the way his face paled, it wasn’t even remotely humorous.

  “Carter,” he choked out, bending over and propping his hands on his knees.

  “Seriously?” Carter, whose name I was disappointed to find didn’t fit him at all, said to me as he marched forward. “He’s kidding,” he informed the drama queen.

  “I’m kidding,” I echoed when Henry began hyperventilating. “I’ve been flying for years.”

  “He…” He stood up, but his chest continued to heave. “He’s an infant.”

  “He’s a pilot with an impeccable record,” Carter replied.

  “No,” Henry wheezed.

  “It’s either this guy or cancel the show. We don’t have time. You’re already going to be late. The Red Dot agreed to extend their set until we can get you there, but I don’t think your fans are going to like eight hours of an opening act so we can drive.”

  “Then cancel the fucking show,” he ordered, standing up straight but no less panicked. “I’m not going with this guy. Call Jackson and tell him either he finds me someone other than Doogie Howser or I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

  Shit. Jackson was going to hand me my ass if I lost this guy. And I kind of needed a job. I’d become pretty attached to that whole eating thing.

  “Okay. Wait. I’m sorry. Let’s start over.” I extended a hand toward him. “Hi. I’m Evan Roth. I’ll be your captain today. I’m thirty-one, but I’ve been flying for most of my life. My stepfather was a pilot, and we had a small plane he used to let me copilot as a child. When I was eighteen, he helped me get my license. I was qualified to fly commercial liners before I was even old enough to drink. My parents were partial to college though. We compromised on the Air Force Academy.” I shrugged and tossed him a half smile. “I did three overseas deployments before getting out of the military almost a year ago.”

  He didn’t look impressed, so I continued.

  “I have a degree in engineering, but I knew the only job I ever wanted was in the sky. I’ve been living that dream for over a decade now. I promise you couldn’t be in better hands today.”

  “A decade,” he scoffed. “A decade? Craig has been flying for almost thirty years. And you want me to put my life in the hands of a novice? No fucking way.”

  It wasn’t professional in the least, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, he does have me on hours clocked. However, I have him in pretty much every other way possible. I’m younger. My mind is sharper. My reaction time is quicker. If there was any kind of problem, a half a second could make all the difference. I have twenty-twenty vision—no contacts or glasses needed. I’m in perfect health, so you won’t have to worry about chest pains or any other kind of illness while we are up there. And above and beyond all that, I own the sky.” I pointed to the ceiling. “You may feel safer on solid ground, but up there, that’s my home.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “You own the sky?” He turned to Carter and laughed again. “Who the hell is this guy? No. Just. No.”

  “Jesus,” Carter swore at the ceiling.

  Turning on a heel, he called out, “Thanks, but no, thanks, Maverick.”

  After rolling my eyes at his nickname, I gave my attention back to Carter. “Look, don’t call Jackson. I’ll call one of the other guys and see if they can get here in time. I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going to freak like that.”

  Holding my gaze, he banged on the glass of the vending machine, freeing my chips. “We have no time for that shit. Be on the plane in fifteen minutes.”

  “You sure that’s going to be a good idea? I’m not real fond of emergency landings due to a passenger trying to claw their way out of a window.”

  “He’ll be fine. Just fly the damn plane”—he paused, and a patronizing smile grew on his lips—“Maverick.”

  “Awesome,” I breathed with sarcasm.

  I watched him walk away in the same direction Henry had left. Before the door clicked, I heard him mock, “I own the sky.”

  Out-fucking-standing.

  “SEE? THAT WASN’T so bad.” I tossed Carter a weak smile when the plane slowed to a roll.

  He glared at me. “My leg is numb.”

  Quickly removing my death grip on his thigh, I replied, “You have health insurance, right? Maybe you should get that checked out.”

  His glare transformed into a scowl.

  After my mini meltdown in front of our pilot, Carter had literally dragged me onto the plane. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever had to do it. And it definitely wouldn’t be the last. But, in the end, he’d been right. I was fine. Drunk after having chugged three more gin and tonics, but fine nonetheless.

  The flight had been remarkably uneventful. Which really just meant it’d been only mildly terrifying. Our pilot had managed to get us on the ground fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. I was still going to be late for the show, but at least my openers wouldn’t have to extend their set by more than a few songs. Well, assuming I could sober up in time.

  “Let’s go,” Carter announced as soon as the door was open.

  “How far to the venue?” I slurred, scrubbing my hands over my face.

  “Less than an hour. You need coffee,” he said, snapping his fingers at Susan.

  She appeared seconds later with a steaming paper cup filled to the brim.

  “Thanks.”

  She smiled warmly, patting me on the arm. “I put a bottled water and a sandwich in your bag too. Eat it. The food will help.”

  I returned her smile and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Any chance you’re single, Susan? My current wife is failing on his wifely duties.” I glanced at Carter and waggled my eyebrows.

  She shook her head and slapped my chest. “Have a good concert. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Fantastic. Another flight. I can’t wait,” I deadpanned.

  Carter nabbed his carry-on and tossed my backpack to me. His eyes traveled over me before he blew out a loud breath. “You look like shit. Let’s hope Macy can work a miracle on the way over.”

  “You sure know how to make a man feel good about himself,” I smarted before taking a sip of the coffee.

  He was probably right. God knows I felt like shit.

  Shrugging my backpack on, I followed him to the exit.

  “How’d it go back there?” I heard Ethan, or whatever the hell our pilot’s name was, ask, but Carter’s massive body blocked him from my view.

  “Great. Thanks, man,” Carter replied, patting him on the shoulder and then stepping out of the small door.

  Focusing on not spilling my coffee, I shuffled after him.

  “I see you survived unscathed,” the pilot said to me as I passed, his voice thick with humor.

  Keeping my gaze down, I dropped a pair of sunglasses over my eyes even though the sun had set hours earlier. “Yeah. Thanks. And…ya know, sorry about earlier.” It was a halfhearted apology, but my mind was on my show and how the hell I was planning to pull it off if I didn’t get my s
hit together—soon.

  “It’s no problem. I should be the one apologizing. That joke was out of line.”

  “Make whatever joke you want as long as you get me safely on the ground. See you in the morning,” I said dismissively, jogging down the stairs. My stomach sloshed from the movement. “Ugh,” I groaned, folding my hands over my midsection and heading straight to the limo door that Carter was holding open for me. “I feel like death.”

  “You don’t look much better,” my hair and wardrobe stylist, Macy, said as I slid into the seat beside her.

  I moaned, leaning down to rest my head in her lap. “Carter says I need a miracle.”

  “And a breath mint,” she corrected, pulling a small metal tin from her bag and popping one in my open mouth. She tangled her fingers in my hair as I closed my eyes.

  It had been a crazy-long day, and add two panic attacks and what felt like a gallon of gin and tonic into the mix and I was spent.

  “Well, the good news is your hair is supposed to look like you’ve slept on it for a week,” she said. “Bad news—it takes at least an hour for me to make it look like that.”

  “I can live with bad hair. Just let me sleep,” I pleaded, stretching my legs across the seat.

  I heard Carter climb in the other door right before I felt the car pull away.

  “If you promise to give me fifteen minutes before we get there, you can relax for now,” she said, scratching the top of my head.

  “Mmm,” I hummed.

  “Oh, and hey. I managed to get Robin that new Hermès bag she wanted. It should have been delivered earlier this afternoon.”

  Whatever sleepiness I’d been feeling left me on a rush. My eyes popped open wide, my gaze landing directly on Carter, who was sitting diagonally across from me. His expression of concern matched mine.

  “What bag?”

  “The Hermès. She called last week and said you told her to call me since it hadn’t been released yet.”