Fall Back Skyward (Fall Back #1)

by Autumn Grey

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  “So damn sexy,” I say, as she moves beneath me, her lips parted. I lean forward, slide my hand up her throat and wrap my fingers around the nape of the neck. My thumb moves along the column of her neck. He skin vibrates and my cock presses harder on my zipper.

  I need to bury myself inside her or I might die. Our legs tangle, my fingers fighting to get more of her. They remember the map of her body as if we’ve never been apart. I can’t remember the last time I felt a hunger this deep. My mouth trails down her neck, across her chest. I take her nipple between my lips and suck it, then move to the other one and do the same thing. Her body writhes under me, her mouth parted.

  I lift my head to look at her as my hand slides under her white flimsy nightgown, I brush her pussy and push a finger inside her.

  “So wet,” I say.

  Her hooded eyes meet mine and I’m three seconds away from jerking off in my pants.

  She opens that mouth and I can’t stop watching those lips. “Make me forget, Cole.” I know she wants me to fuck her into oblivion, because I want that too. I want to forget everything. I need to forget for just one night. “No one has ever touched me like you used to. No one else has been in there since you. I want to feel again.”

  My finger inside stops. “What?”

  She startles, stares at me with wide eyes and licks her lips. She probably didn’t intend for those words to slip out.

  This is probably not the right moment to ask, but I do. That animal part of me that claimed her eleven years ago needs to know. “You and Josh never. . .”

  She shakes her head. I remove my hands from below her dress and sit up. Drag my fingers through my hair and lower my head.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  I stand up from the couch, glance up at the ceiling. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I slide my gaze down to Nor, who’s staring at me with something like fear in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. This is not right. . .” I shove my feet inside my shoes, spin around and stalk to the door. I step out without looking back and close the door. I lean back on it and my squeeze my eyes shut.

  That memory of the first time I made her come is a reminder of how much I enjoyed watching her fall apart. Something holds me back though. She mentioned that she and Josh had never slept together. I know their marriage wasn’t real. But with Josh being gone less than twenty-four hours, I need to keep a lid on my feelings for now.

  Digging out my phone from my pants, I scroll through my contacts and tap on Megs’ number. I promised her I’d text her when I left Nor’s house to let her know how Nor and the girls are doing. When I’m done, I head for my car, fighting the urge to turn around and go back inside the house to finish what we started on the couch.

  As soon as the door clicks shut, I drop my head back on the couch and stare at the burgundy curtains across from me.

  Shit.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I shouldn’t have tried to kiss Cole. And then I opened my mouth and told him that Josh and I were never intimate. I just wanted him to know that it has always been him.

  He pushed me away and left.

  I cover my eyes with my hands and groan.

  Nip those feelings at the bud, Eleanor. It’s been a long time. Cole is one in a million and has an amazing heart. Any girl would be lucky to have him. Oh gosh. Maybe he has a girlfriend and I threw myself at him. My heart twists in my chest. I double over and squeeze my eyes tight as pain steals the air from my lungs.

  Would he kiss me the way he did if he had a girlfriend?

  Plus, Josh died. Who kisses another man when her husband has just died? Even though Josh and I married for reasons other than love, he still deserves respect.

  He’d been my best friend for these past years. It has been eight years and fifty days since I last cut. The journey to healing hadn’t been easy. He was there when I relapsed. Held me when I cried myself to sleep after the wedding, pep-talked me on days that the thirst to cut became too much. He and Megs took turns to hold my hand before and after each therapy session. Dr Thorsten had referred me to a therapist here in Willow Hill. I was too weak, too messed up. I despised myself for falling off the wagon after Cole left.

  Josh was the best father any child could ever ask for. And when my dad left—good riddance—I took that chance to get mom the best therapy care, after years of living with depression. Josh was everywhere, and yet he never pursued any sort of intimacy between us because he knew. He knew that my heart was in New York and would always be. On days when I felt discouraged that Cole never replied to the letters I sent him, Josh would sit me in front of my desk and hand me a pen and paper. Our marriage was a union to save the person we both loved, which doesn’t mean that he didn’t have women lining up to fulfil the part of our deal I couldn’t perform. He always said that he wasn’t the kind of person to settle down. But now that he did, he could ‘get some ass without strings attached’ or have some woman stalking him home.

  Then he started becoming sicker and sicker. My life revolved around Josh, my daughters, my mom and sisters. My Bachelor’s degree in Music Therapy took a back seat. My regrets are many and one of them is that Josh got tangled up in this entire situation.

  Now, Cole is back and I’ve reverted to that eighteen-year-old girl. Butterflies in my stomach, weak knees and stars in my eyes.

  I groan again and flip to my side on the couch and try not to die. I’m equal parts embarrassed and rejected. My phone trills on the glass table. I crane my neck long enough to see who the caller is and then reach for it.

  “Hey you,” Megs greets. “How are you and the girls?”

  I close my eyes and sigh. “Cora and Joce finally fell asleep.”

  “Is everything okay? I can drop by as soon as my shift is over.”

  “Oh no. Get some sleep first. Elon and Elise are here in case of anything.”

  She sighs, silence filling the conversation. “You and Cole?”

  I open my eyes and focus on the fan whirring round and round on the ceiling. I smile, despite the current circumstances. “Cora and Joce cried so much they slept in the car. He carried both of them up to my room. The girls adore him. God, Megs. You should have seen them, cuddled on my bed together. Cora and Joce’s little legs tangled up with his.”

  “Of course, they do. Blood is thicker than water, right?”

  I nod. “Yes, it is,” I whisper. “I miss Josh so much. It hurts, Megs. It hurts so much, even though I knew the time would come when he’d leave us. But I’m also happy he’s no longer in pain.”

  “So, do we need to hire a mediator or something?”

  I laugh. “No, but thank you for the thought. It’s awkward. And Megs—” I inhale deeply, “—I kissed him.”

  Silence, then, “You did what?”

  I groan. “We were on the couch and he was comforting me. I couldn’t stop myself. . .”

  “Did he kiss you back?” Megs asks in an excited whisper.

  “Yes,” I say, breathless.

  “And?”

  “And then he left. Things were getting a bit heavy. He stopped and left. I’m so embarrassed Megs. I threw myself at him without even thinking. Maybe he has a girlfriend—”

  “Nor? Stop it. Take deep breaths. This was bound to happen. You two are like fuel and fire. Just say, keep a safe distance until things cool down. Do you think your lady parts will behave?”

  I giggle. “I’m keeping my distance—and my lady parts in check—that’s for sure.”

  “Good. Okay, girlie. I have to go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Love you.”

  “Love you more.”

  I hang up the call, smiling and sit up. I turn off the TV, turn off the lights, climb upstairs, and head to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth, I head to my bedroom, crawl on my bed, and finally lie down on the little space that is not occupied by my daughters. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and wait for sleep to claim me.

  THE PAST WEEK HAS BEEN
busy, preparing for Josh’s funeral. Soon I will be saying goodbye to my brother. I’ve been trying to keep myself busy just to stop from breaking down. I spend most of my nights at Nor’s house, sleeping on the couch and figuring out how to be a dad. If I wasn’t floundering around and Googling every piece of advice in a panic, I was smothering them with attention. I was having a hard time finding a balance, but Cora and Joce didn’t seem to mind. In fact, they welcomed it. Being close to my daughters makes things easier.

  Simon arrived last night. Simon is currently staying at my parents’ house in the guest room downstairs. Last night we stayed up late catching up.

  Right after the funeral, the crowd disperses heading for the row of cars parked twenty feet from Josh’s grave, ready to drive to my parents’ house for the wake. Elise and Elon wave at us as they head toward Elise’s Prius with Nick’s arm slung around Elon, holding her close. I’ve seen the way he looks at her, and I know he hasn’t gotten over his childhood crush on her.

  Megs and Simon hang back to chat. They still seem awkward around each other. I watch as Nor and the girls walk slowly toward my parent’s car. After informing Megs and Simon that I’ll meet them at my parents’ house, I stride toward Nor. Just as she ushers Joce and Cora to my parent’s car, I grasp her arm. She stiffens and looks over her shoulder at me, her red-rimmed eyes wide, and frowns. Her face looks too pale and thin. Stress from the past years, being a care-taker and a mom rests heavily on her face. I don’t like seeing her like this. As much as I know how weird this sounds, I don’t care for the look on her face. Every time she looks at me with those eyes filled with pain, I feel a sharp sting stab me inside my chest and go straight to my heart. I can’t stand it anymore. That look on her face has to go.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, averting her gaze to my chest. Nor has been avoiding looking at me since that night we made out on the couch.

  “I want you and the girls to ride with me in my truck.”

  Her eyes flash with irritation and her cheeks flush, wiping off the desolate look of before. This is the first time I’ve seen her look alive in the past week. She has a right to mourn for him. She has done a good job, distracting the girls. As soon as she thinks no one is watching her, the curtain falls. But I see everything. In fact I think it’s a little disturbing how much I watch her, which is why the little flash of anger on her face makes me feel some sort of victory. Damn it, I’ll do anything to see that kind of passion again.

  Her gaze flickers to my truck a few feet away and then back to me. She shakes her head and opens her mouth, most likely to protest. My grip on her arm tightens slightly.

  “It is not a request, Nor.”

  Her lips tighten and she mutters something under her breath. Joce and Cora whip around to stare at their mom in what I can guess is shock, then cover their mouths with their little hands, snickering.

  “Mama said a bad word,” Cora signs. She slaps a hand over her mouth again, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

  I don’t have to guess what Nor said, given the girls’ laughter and Nor’s blushing face. But I’m glad the somber mood is gone.

  At least for now.

  “Get in the car. I’ll talk to Mom and Dad.” I jerk my chin toward the truck. Cora and Joce scramble on the passenger seat, looking all too happy.

  But not Nor. She thrusts her chin forward, her jaw locked and arms crossed on her chest. She glares at me, and I return the look, my hands propped on my hips.

  She huffs. “You—you brute.”

  My lips twitch and seconds later my shoulders are shaking with laughter. I think saying the words ‘Fuck you’ would make her spontaneously combust.

  “Don’t fight me on this, Nor,” I sign when I’m calm enough to face her without laughing. “Get in the car.”

  Shoving my hands inside my pants pockets, I whirl around without waiting for her response and stride to the spot my parents are waiting inside the car. Fighting the urge to look over my shoulder as the weight of Nor’s angry gaze bores into me.

  I used to love the fierce look on her face when she got angry. So full of fire.

  Mom rolls down the window on her side and watches me as I walk toward them. My aunt, Madge, her husband Ray and my cousin Abe are seated in the back of the car. They arrived last night from Portland to attend my brother’s funeral. Aunt Madge flashes me a wobbly smile, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.

  After letting Mom know that Nor and the girls will be riding with me, I straighten and huff when they exchange smug looks. Shaking my head, I spin around and stalk back to my truck and notice Simon getting inside Megs’ car ten feet away.

  Once everyone is seated inside my truck, I hop in and then follow behind my parents’ car as we leave the cemetery.

  I needed a moment alone, away from the guests downstairs, which is why I’m standing inside Josh’s old room. I shove my hands inside my pants pockets and slowly swivel around on my heel, taking in the shelves stacked with books, two footballs in one corner. A stack of magazines filled with random shit are piled neatly on top of a box on the floor. On top of the dresser is a framed photo of my brother, Cora and Joce are snuggled into him, their faces screwed up in cute funny expressions. Looks like my mom never got around to clearing his room just as they never cleared mine.

  Someone touches my arm softly. I turn around and see Elon, dressed in a knee-length black dress. She has grown up a lot from the girl who spent most of her time practicing cello in her room. We’ve spent a few nights this week catching up so I know she’s pursuing a Bachelor’s of Music program in classical and modern music with special concentration on cello.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around me. Then she steps back to look up at me.

  I nod. “I’m trying. How are you?”

  She glances around the room and brushes her fingers down her cheek. “It’s hard to accept that he is gone. Your brother was amazing. I didn’t get a chance to say good bye. To thank him for what he did for my Nor. If something would have happened to you, it would have killed my sister.”

  I open my mouth then shut it again as a wave of pain cuts through my chest.

  “Cole, I’m sorry for how my father treated you.”

  “You don’t have to apologize for him. Your father was ruled by a kind of sick obsession and prejudice. He was looking for someone to blame for how his life turned out. I was the scapegoat.”

  She inhales deeply and folds her hands in front of her. She reminds me of Joce. “I’m happy Cora and Joce never met him.”

  “They didn’t?” I ask, taken aback by this news.

  She shakes her head. “After the. . .um. . .wedding, Nor and Josh moved in with Grandma. She never brought the girls to visit my dad. He left town a few years later.”

  Thank fuck. I don’t even want to imagine my children in his presence.

  “Well, I’ll go downstairs and help out.”

  “Thank you for telling me, Elon.”

  She nods and leaves the room, leaving me reeling with the news she just delivered. Walking to the dresser, I lift the framed photo and stare down at the people in it and a smile tugs on my lips. A soft nudge on my arm jerks me from my thoughts. I open my eyes to find Nor standing in front of me.

  “Hey,” she signs. “Elon told me you were up here.”

  I nod. “Hey.” I set the frame back on the dresser and run my fingers through my hair.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  I blow air through my mouth. “Can you take this fucking pain from my heart?”

  She blinks twice before dropping her gaze on the beige carpet. She pushes a lock of hair behind her ear.

  Shit. Why am I being such a dick?

  “I’m sorry.”

  She lifts her head, glares at me, and signs, “You’re not the only person who lost Josh, Cole. I did, too. Your parents, Nick, Cora and Joce. We all lost him.”

  She turns on her heel and walks out of the room. I run my fingers through my hair.
>
  Fuck.

  I swing my clenched fist back and punch the wall across from me. I shake my fingers as pain sears through my brain.

  Nor is right. We all lost Josh. And here I am behaving like a selfish motherfucker.

  I need to apologize to Nor and I also need a strong drink to calm me the fuck down. I leave the room. As soon as my foot hits the bottom step, I stalk toward the kitchen.

  Halting at the counter in the kitchen, I reach up and fling the cupboard doors open and scour through the random shit. Then I remember my dad keeps his scotch in the living room cabinet. I stride back, ignoring the curious looks being thrown in my direction. I stop in front of said cabinet, throw the door open and reach for the bottle of scotch. I return back to the kitchen with my prize.

  I’m in the process of pouring a shot in a glass when someone taps my shoulder. I whirl around, scowling.

  “Easy, Man,” Simon signs, taking a step back. “What the hell’s crawled up your ass?”

  I glare at him, turn around and grab the scotch. I toss the contents down my throat and grimace as the liquid burns a trail down my throat. Reaching out for the bottle again, I pour another shot and toss it back. I tip the bottle, ready for another shot, but Simon’s hand on mine halts my progress.

  I shoot him a scowl. “Take your arm off me before I rip it from your body.”

  He grins, undeterred by my threat then drops his hand. “Talk to me, man. One minute you and the girls are heading here in your truck looking all sad and shit and the next you look like someone took your favorite toy or something. Talk, bro.”

  I down another shot and slam the glass down on the marble counter.

  “I have to leave,” I sign, brushing past him and heading toward the door then stopping abruptly when I see Nor, standing a few feet away from us, talking to an old couple I have never seen before. Her cheeks are still flushed and her eyes look brighter than they have been since I arrived in town a few weeks ago.

  As if sensing me, Nor stops talking, scans the room until she finds me. Her mouth tightens in obvious irritation before looking away. Simon appears in my line of sight and stares at me incredulously.