FIFTEEN
NOAH
I lay in bed, watching Jordan sleep, feeling like our relationship was just a series of repeats—seeing her, wanting more, the time slipping away from us, saying good-bye. Even when I saw her, some part of me was already mentally counting down to the time when she would leave again. We were always coming or going, never staying, and part of me wondered how we could continue like this.
Jordan stirred beneath the covers, rolling to her side, throwing an arm over my waist, her cheek coming to rest on my chest. I stroked her hair, wrapping the golden strands around my fingers while she settled into me even more.
Her flight left in five hours. I didn’t want to let her go.
Yesterday had gone by in a blur. We’d spent the entire day in bed, watching TV and being lazy, taking breaks for food and fucking. It had been the perfect day and, at the same time, had gone by far too quickly. And now, like always, time was up.
I wanted to talk to her, to see if we were on the same page, if this was going somewhere more permanent than these weekend trips, and yet I felt like I was coming to her with empty hands. This was the hard part. I didn’t know what to say to her, didn’t know what I had to offer. What could I say?
I really like you, think I might be falling in love with you, so do you want to give up the business you’ve built and your friends and family to follow me around the world?
It was fucking hard.
I couldn’t meet her halfway, couldn’t make a sacrifice of my own. I’d made a commitment to the military and there was no getting out of it, no other option. If she wanted to take this relationship to the next level, then it was all or nothing. And I wasn’t sure I could ask that of her. Maybe it would be easier if we were younger. If she hadn’t already built a future for herself, or if she had a career that was more portable, one that could move with the military lifestyle.
I wished we could have dated like normal people who just enjoyed each other’s company without the added pressure of making big decisions early on. But I only had a year left in Oklahoma and I was a few months away from having to submit my “dream sheet” of where I wanted to go next. As long as I was flying the Viper, I didn’t really care, but now there was the added pressure of Jordan to think about. I would have been cool with going overseas, but a long-distance relationship was tough enough without the added hassle of living in different countries.
I wasn’t far off my lieutenant colonel promotion board, and my next assignment mattered. I couldn’t afford to make a choice based off a relationship that was just casual. And at the same time, I’d spent my whole life choosing the Air Force. I couldn’t give everything up for Jordan, but I could try my hardest to make it easier for us to be together. I just needed to know she was on board, too.
It was the kind of conversation that was serious enough to merit speaking in person, and at the same time, when we only got two days to spend together, it was difficult to want to use that time talking about a future that was daunting to say the least. And part of me resented even having this conversation so early into dating. I felt boxed into a corner of my own making, paying the price for a decision I’d made at eighteen. I didn’t regret my choice. I loved flying; there wasn’t any other job I could see myself doing. But at the same time, it made things harder than they probably needed to be.
Jordan stirred in my arms again, her face tipping up to stare into mine. Her lashes fluttered and she gave me a sleepy smile.
“Morning.”
I loved waking up to her. What would it be like if I could always have this? If every day of my life included seeing her face in the morning?
“Good morning.”
She kissed the skin over my heart.
“Did you sleep okay?” she murmured.
“Yeah.”
She was seriously adorable in the mornings. She clearly wasn’t a morning person, and most of the time I woke up before she did, watching her sleep, enjoying the feel of her in my arms.
I groaned, burying my face in her hair. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Me, too. I wish we lived closer.”
“Me, too.”
Silence descended between us, the impending good-bye already taking over.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, not even sure what I was apologizing for.
I’m sorry my hands are tied. I’m sorry being with me means giving up everything. I’m sorry I’m in the military. I’m sorry I can’t put you first. I’m sorry you deserve better than what I can give you. I’m sorry I’m too selfish to let you go.
Jordan reached out, grasping my face in her hands, her gaze knowing, as though she could read the confusion in my eyes.
“You don’t need to apologize. You told me what it would be like from the beginning. It sucks, but I knew that going into it. It was my choice. I could have left what we had in Vegas. I wanted to see where this would go. Wanted to give us a chance. That’s not on you.”
The rational part of me knew she was right, and yet the part of me that hated to see her upset or suffering couldn’t ignore the pang I felt when I saw the sadness in her eyes. And I also couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of my mind that wondered if it should be this hard; if maybe love wasn’t supposed to be easier than this.
“Yeah, but did you know how hard it would be?” I asked her, a knot in my throat.
’Cause I hadn’t.
I’d done long distance with girls before. It had never been particularly successful, but it hadn’t been this. It hadn’t been an ache in my chest like someone had ripped my heart out and used it as a stress ball.
“No, I didn’t.”
That was the tough thing about it. If I liked her less, it would have been easier. And at the same time, if I liked her less, I wasn’t sure I’d put myself in this position.
“Do you regret it?” I found myself asking, not even sure I was ready to hear the answer she might give.
Her gaze met mine, her expression solemn. “Not for a minute.”
The amount of relief I felt staggered me.
“Me, either.”
Jordan hooked her leg over mine, burrowing deeper into the crook of my arm, soft and warm against my bare skin, the sensation of having her close doing nothing to lessen the need humming through my body. Her hand drifted lower and my breath caught.
“I could stay like this forever,” she murmured, her fingers lazy, stroking and gliding over me with enough pressure to bring me to the precipice without giving me what I craved.
I grinned. “Same.” My hands drifted down her skin, tracing the curves there. I’d had her hours ago and I was already hungry for her again. “Have I mentioned how much I love your body?”
Her expression turned playful instantly, her voice taking on the husky purr my body instantly gravitated toward.
“Not in the last five hours.”
“I love your curves,” I murmured, rolling over and taking her with me until my hips rocked against hers, pressing her into the mattress. “So soft and sweet.”
I tilted her chin, touching my lips to hers, my tongue thrusting in as she made a little hum of pleasure.
“I love your mouth,” I murmured, my hands moving down and arching her forward as she wrapped her legs around my waist.
Jordan’s hands twined in my hair, pulling us even closer together, the kiss turning urgent and hungry as we made the most of the time we had left.
JORDAN
The Oklahoma City airport was quickly becoming both my most favorite and my least favorite place. When my plane landed and I walked toward the gate, my legs carrying me toward Noah, it felt like the best place on earth. But when he dropped me off there, when I waited by the security line, waited for the hug and release, for my legs to carry me away from him? Well, then it sucked. Big time.
It had been a good weekend. A great weekend. But I was sick of just ha
ving a couple days together. It wasn’t exactly a sustainable relationship. And I wasn’t sure how we were supposed to take things further if we could never spend time together. Maybe we should take a trip somewhere; I could suggest it after Meg’s wedding. I figured meeting the parents was probably enough to spring on him without adding the pressure of a couple’s trip. It felt like we were headed there, and at the same time, I couldn’t get my bearings on whether things were happening too quickly for us or not quickly enough.
Noah stood next to me while I checked in for my flight and gave the attendant my bag. Whatever weird mood had settled over me like a miasma seemed to have affected him, too, and we wore matching grim expressions as though steeling ourselves for an unpleasant and arduous task.
I’d been lucky in my life. Sure, I’d gone off to college, but I’d only been a few hours away from my parents, and I’d gone with my best friends, so it hadn’t been a big thing. I hadn’t had to say good-bye to a lot of people in my life, had always been fortunate enough to have the people I loved close.
I loved Noah.
I’d suspected I was falling in love with him since the beginning, had been able to recognize that this feeling inside me was something else entirely from the way I’d felt with other guys before. But now I knew. And given how complicated things were between us—the chasm created by his job and my difficulty coming to terms with how I fit into his lifestyle—I couldn’t say I was entirely happy about it.
And I didn’t know how he felt, or if we were even on the same page. We needed to talk about it, but I wasn’t sure how to broach that conversation. It seemed counterintuitive to push for a future I wasn’t sure I wanted.
God, I really was terrible at this.
We walked toward the security line, our hands linked, my chest tight.
I offered a lame attempt at a smile, not quite meeting his gaze.
“I’ll see you in a week.”
Noah squeezed my hand, the same conflicted expression on his face that I figured was mirrored on mine.
I waited for him to say something, hoping I’d somehow find the answers there. But he didn’t speak. He moved forward with a jerk, cupping my face, lifting my head to meet him halfway as his lips came down to claim mine.
Whatever the question, this was the answer. It wasn’t just a kiss—I’d had good kisses before him. It was the rightness of it. The inaudible click that I felt between us. It was something I hadn’t found before and it was the thing that kept me holding on, even as I wondered if I was nuts for doing so.
I clung to him, my nails digging into his biceps as his mouth laid waste to mine. It wasn’t as much of a good-bye kiss as it was both promise and claiming, a memory I’d take with me as I got on the plane and left him behind.
He pulled away, his gaze brimming with purpose, his want and need blasting me.
I didn’t speak. It was the kind of kiss that was a tough act to follow.
I walked through security, my heart heavy, lips swollen, throat thick with unshed tears. Each step took me farther and farther away; each step extended the invisible thread that connected us, the one I clung to now.
One week.
SIXTEEN
JORDAN
“What do you think?”
I looked up from my phone as Meg walked out into the salon wearing her wedding gown.
She looked stunning. The dress was a princess ball gown with lots of tulle and lace. It showed off her tiny waist, and even though she’d worried that it would be too much dress for her since she wasn’t tall, somehow it fit her perfectly. She looked like a delicate fairy.
“You look amazing.”
Our mother pulled out a tissue, dabbing at her eyes. “My little girl—all grown up.”
Meg grinned. “It’s perfect, right?”
“Mike is going to love it. You look like a princess.”
It was three days before the wedding, and Meg was having her final fitting to make sure nothing had changed and the dress still fit like a glove. I’d taken the week off to help Meg with last-minute wedding plans and to entertain all the out-of-town wedding guests who were beginning to trickle in. I’d already made four trips to the airport to pick up relatives and I still had to go back tomorrow to pick up Noah.
My mother and the bridal shop attendant fussed over Meg’s gown and veil, and I felt tears welling up. Images of us growing up together flashed before my eyes. I was so going to cry at the ceremony.
My phone rang, the screen lighting up with the picture of Noah in his flight suit that I’d snapped last time we were together.
“It’s Noah. I’ll be right back.”
I hit Accept and walked out of the shop.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Hey, babe.”
His voice sounded different; not the usual happy-to-talk-to-me that I normally heard when he called.
“What’s wrong?”
He sighed. “I have bad news. I’m really, really sorry, but I’m not going to be able to make your sister’s wedding. I got stuck with an ONE that I can’t get out of. I’m so sorry.”
“An ONE?”
“Operation Noble Eagle. Flying air support for high-profile targets. I can’t say what it is, but the squadron got tasked with one for this weekend and manning is a bitch. They need an instructor to lead it and Joker wants me since it’s high vis. I tried to get out of it, but there’s no way.”
Disappointment clogged my throat as silence filled the line. It was his job; I knew he couldn’t do anything about it. I wasn’t angry, just frustrated. And embarrassed. I didn’t know how to explain to my family that he was canceling at the last minute. The military was such a foreign concept to them that I doubted they’d understand. And ugh, now I was dateless again. Not to mention the fact that I’d been looking forward to seeing him again. Really looking forward to seeing him. I felt petty for caring, but my family was important to me. I wanted them to meet Noah. Wanted him to see this side of my life. And I wanted to make memories together. To start building a life. It wasn’t just him missing a weekend together; it was him missing a huge family event. Maybe it was stupid to let it bother me, but it did.
“Jordan?”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“I know it’s not okay. I feel terrible.”
I forced myself to sound as cheery as possible. “You shouldn’t feel terrible. It’s your job. You told me it would be like this. I’m not going to lie and say I’m not disappointed, but I do understand. I know you would be here if you could.”
I hoped I wasn’t wrong about him, that he really was the guy I thought he was. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d trusted what a guy told me only to find out it had all been one big lie. I really hoped I wasn’t going to get burned on this one.
“I hate letting you down. Hate disappointing you.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry I’m going to miss meeting your family. Maybe I can try to plan a trip to Florida after I get back from the TDY to Alaska.”
He was going to be gone most of April and all of May, and it was officially the longest separation we’d had.
“Yeah. That would be good.”
We said bye, and then he was gone, and I was standing outside the bridal shop, facing the unpleasant task of having to go explain to my mother and sister that Noah couldn’t make it to the wedding. Considering the hard time my mother had given me about dating him, period, I figured this news would only bolster her argument that this wasn’t a stable relationship for me. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was setting myself up for a lot of heartache. But either way, I didn’t know how to turn off my feelings for him. Love wasn’t always logical.
* * *
I sat at the reception with the bridal party, dressed in my pink satin bridesmaids’ dress, the odd one out in what was now a table of nine.
The wedding had been b
eautiful. Meg had beamed walking down the aisle with our father, and the look on Mike’s face when he first saw her had been so incredibly sweet. I’d cried while they said their vows, still not quite believing my baby sister was now a wife.
I’d spent the reception talking to family members, fending off questions of why I didn’t have a date, and the ultimate, When are you going to meet a nice boy and settle down?
They asked it as though my single status were completely my choice, as though I was too “wild” for a relationship, an animal unsuited for domestication. Some part of me wanted to give a little overview of my last four failed relationships—the guy who had wanted me to wear flats whenever we went on dates because he didn’t like how tall I was, the one who lived at home with his parents at thirty-two, the one who’d cheated on me with one of his co-workers, or the guy who’d insisted on splitting the bill on every single date we went on with alarming precision. Not exactly the stuff of great romance.
I didn’t mention Noah. I wasn’t up for hearing the questions of why he wasn’t here or any repetition of my mother’s concerns about how he wasn’t a good bet for me. She’d pretty much freaked when I’d told her he wasn’t coming after all—not to mention how pissed they’d been about having to rearrange the table setting and seating chart. My father had been better about it, but I could tell he was disappointed about not getting to meet Noah.
I missed him tonight. There was something about a wedding—the romance in the air perhaps—that made it suck to feel single. I wanted him to whirl me around the dance floor. To hold my hand. I wanted to share it with him.
“It’s time for the bride to toss the bouquet,” the DJ announced. “We need all of the single ladies out onto the dance floor.”
Ugh.
In my twenties, bouquet tosses had been fun and exciting. There was still that optimism and the romantic possibility that maybe there was some good-luck-slash-magic in those bundled-up flowers. Now it was just a scarlet fucking “S” for single, as the smattering of loners were herded onto the dance floor like cattle to be pointed at by all the happily married couples watching us with varying stages of pity.
Fly With Me Page 15
