You Are My Air: Breathless Book 1

by Samantha Wolfe

  I followed Mom through the living area and into the nearby kitchen to find my sister standing by the stove, her huge pregnant belly sticking way out now that she was almost due. Diana was a quite a bit taller than Mom and looked beautiful like she always did with her shoulder-length loose dark curls and blue eyes identical to mine. She favored our Ukrainian blood more than I did with her round face and high cheekbones. Mom told me that I looked like my American father and the few pictures she had of him bore a striking resemblance to me. I only looked at the pictures that one time in high school. It was hard to feel any sort of connection to a man I had never known, and Mom was reticent to talk about except in abstracts, so I had never looked at them or asked about my father again. The family I already had was more than enough for me.

  "Hey, David." Diana smiled as I gave her a hug and a kiss on her cheek.

  "You look gorgeous today," I told her as I took in the off-white cabled maternity sweater dress she was wearing with black leggings and tall black boots.

  "Thanks, baby brother," she said as she smiled and patted my cheek patronizingly.

  "Only by two minutes," I reminded her with one raised brow. I gave her a mock glare as the delicious smells in the kitchen finally registered in my brain. "Is that lasagna I smell?"

  "Yes, sweetheart," Mom answered next to me. I was relieved that we weren't eating Ukrainian food. Not that I didn't like it, but after being over there for ten months, I wouldn't mind going another ten without eating it again. "Diana made her cherry tart, too."

  "Cool," I said with enthusiasm. My sister made the best desserts. "Where are Tony and the boys?"

  "In the game room with Joe and Baba," Diana said, using the Ukrainian word for grandma. I started toward the door. "I'll come get you guys when the foods done," Diana called after me. I gave her a thumb up on my way out of the kitchen.

  I was met with the squeals of two little boys as I walked into the large family/game room. My five-year-old and three-year-old nephews came barreling toward me, and I knelt down and pulled them into my arms. "Hey, monkeys!" I shouted as the two of them started crawling all over me.

  "Uncle David!" the oldest shouted as he wrapped his arms around my neck. Tony Jr., or T.J. as we called him, was the spitting image of his father. He had his father's thick wavy dark hair and pale blue eyes. Michael who was climbing up my back and laughing hysterically, had dark curls like Diana with a rounder face and our darker blue eyes. They were really good kids, and I adored both of them.

  "Boys!" Tony called from the pool table across the room where he was playing pool with Joe. "Quit climbing all over your uncle." He was smiling over at us. Tony was my height, but he was a big guy with broad muscular shoulders and thickly muscled arms. He was wearing a gray Henley shirt and jeans.

  "They're fine, Tony," I said with a laugh as I stood with both boys still hanging off me. I pulled each of them off me, and set them on the floor one at a time.

  "Come play cars with us, Uncle David," T.J. suggested with a wide grin as he looked up at me. "Baba is doing it with us."

  "Maybe later, buddy," I told him. "I'm going to talk to your dad and Grandpa Joe right now." The boys started whining, but Baba called them back over to the couch she was sitting on and the toy cars spread across the low coffee table. I followed them over to my grandmother.

  "David." Baba smiled. "I'm so glad to see you," she told me in her Ukrainian accent. She had never lost it even though she'd been living in the U.S. since the 80s. Mom's accent was long gone, probably since she had been a teenager when they immigrated here. Polina Mazur was a small calm woman with short gray hair and sharp eyes, who took most things in stride. Mom has always told me that I'm just like her, which probably explained why I felt such a close connection with my grandmother. I looked up to her a lot. It still amazed me that this woman had the courage to leave her home, and move to America with her teenage daughter after being widowed at such a young age.

  "Hi, Baba." I greeted her warmly, and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Her kind eyes brightened as she patted my cheek.

  "You look so handsome today," she told me as she took in my gray sweater and black jeans.

  "Thanks."

  "Have you met a pretty girl yet?" she asked me. "I hate seeing you all alone. You're such a good boy, and you deserve a nice girl, not like that Paige, who left you."

  I pressed my lips into a tight line at her mention of Paige. "I haven't met anyone yet, Baba." I forced myself to sound civil even though the mention of my ex-fiancee filled me with anger and sorrow. It had been well over a year since she had broken our engagement and my heart, but I still didn't want to talk about it. There were things, dark horrible things, about our breakup that I had never told anyone, and I kept those things and the pain it caused close and to myself. I hated that name being mentioned and dredging up the past with its painful festering wounds.

  "Keep looking," she told me with a smile. "You'll find her."

  "I will, Baba." I lied to her, not having the heart to tell her that I had stopped looking a long time ago. I was thirty and alone, and I was going to stay that way. It was the only way to protect myself. Thankfully, the boys distracted her with their antics. I took my opportunity to slip away, and walked over to Tony and Joe by the pool table.

  "Ha!" Joe called out as I approached them. "Gotcha, Tony." I watched the eight ball sink into one of the corner pockets then glanced back to Joe to see gleeful triumph on his face. Joe was a slender man with kind gray eyes and thick graying dark hair. He was only a few inched shorter than me and dressed in a green polo shirt and khaki slacks. I liked Joe a lot. He had come into my mother's life five years ago and made her happy. They had been married for three years now, and he gave her all the things she deserved that she had never had before, like someone she could count on and financial security. He was a successful business man with a lot of money, but he never acted like that made him better than anyone else.

  "I want a rematch," Tony grumbled with a wry smile. "I think you cheated. You must have rigged the table." To my knowledge, Joe had never managed to beat Tony before.

  "Not today," Joe gloated. "I'm holding on to this victory for a while. I've been waiting for years for this, and I'm going to savor it." He looked over at me. "Play David, he's a better match for you anyway." I don't know who Joe was kidding because I was no competition for Tony either. I opened my mouth to say as much when Diana waddled in to tell us lunch was ready.

  Tony took Joe's pool cue from him and went to hang them on the wall rack while Joe headed toward the kitchen with Baba and the boys close behind. I loitered behind to wait for Tony.

  "Is Diana doing alright?" I asked Tony as he turned from the rack to face me. I always worried about my sister when she was pregnant. Being a nurse, I knew things could go horribly wrong at any time during a pregnancy.

  "She's feeling pretty miserable right now," he told me in a weary sounding tone. "Her back hurts, and she can't get comfortable at night."

  "Is the baby okay?" I asked with concern.

  "Oh, yeah," he reassured me. "We had a doctor's appointment last week. The baby's heart beat is strong, and everything looks great."

  "Good," I said with relief. I usually wasn't much of a worrier, but when it came to my family, especially my sister, I tended to get a little anxious where their health was concerned. Sometimes being a health care worker gave you just enough knowledge to drive yourself crazy imagining worse case scenarios.

  "Don't worry, David." Tony smiled and laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Your sister and your niece are fine."

  "Thanks," I said as we walked toward the kitchen. Tony was a really great guy. He loved my sister and worshiped the ground she walked on. They had been married for almost seven years now. They were a good match, and I was happy my sister had found a decent man like Tony.

  Lunch was a loud exciting affair like it always was with my family. There was a lot of laughter and chaos along with really good food. It was a great distraction from the
weird mood I had been in since the race this morning. At least, it was until Diana asked me if I was dating anyone.

  "No," I answered without elaborating, hoping she'd take the hint and drop the subject.

  "If you just put yourself out there again, I'm sure you'd meet somebody," she suggested helpfully. I could feel myself getting angry. If we were alone I'd have told her precisely how much I had been putting myself out there, just not in a way she would have approved. I didn't think she considered one-night stands and fuck-buddies dating. "I could fix you up with a friend if you want me too. I have a few single friends you might like."

  "I don't need fixed up with anybody," I said, my voice lowering into a serious tone as I glared across the table at her. Everyone else was silent during our exchange as they sensed the rising tension between us.

  "It's been over a year, David," she continued undeterred by my growing anger, her eyes narrowed and fixed on mine. "Have you even been on a date since you and Paige broke up?"

  The mention of that name filled me with rage. "We're not talking about her anymore, Diana," I said, enunciating each syllable distinctly and in a low deadly tone.

  "That's funny, because I don't remember you talking about her at all since your relationship ended," she added snidely as she cocked her head.

  I took a deep breath, reminding myself that Diana was only worried about me and irritable with her pregnancy. I was not going to get in a fight with her here at the dinner table in front of everyone.

  "Diana, please," I said, trying to moderate my tone and not really sure I was succeeding. "I don't want to talk about this."

  "I'm sorry," she said quietly as tears of regret filled her eyes. "I just...I just don't want you to be alone for the rest of your life."

  "I'm just not ready." I lied to her too. None of them would understand or let it go if they knew the truth. I was done with dating, and I was done with relationships. Diana began speaking again, but Mom interrupted her.

  "Alright, Diana," she said sternly with a look of disapproval directed at my sister. "You heard your brother. He doesn't want to discuss this anymore, so please drop it."

  Diana wisely let the subject go, but not before giving me a meaningful look that said this wasn't over. I'd cross that bridge when I got there, but for now I was grateful that Mom had intervened.

  The rest of the meal was uneventful and so was the next few hours as I enjoyed myself, playing with the kids and watching Tony and Joe destroy me in several games of pool. By the time I was walking out to head home, I had practically forgotten the spat I had with Diana. That was until she followed me to my car and cornered me.

  "I'm really worried about you," she stated as she slowly waddled the last few feet down the sidewalk to stand in front of me. Tony was right. She looked miserable and uncomfortable.

  "I'm fine, Diana," I assured her, feeling exasperated. "You need to stop worrying about me."

  "You've given up, haven't you?" she accused me with narrowed eyes. "She messed you up so bad that you won't let anyone in again, didn't she?" Damn my sister for figuring this out. Now I'd never hear the end of it. I hoped to God that she didn't tell Mom or Baba. I dragged a hand through my beard as I tried to figure out what to say next. "Well?" she prompted me with annoyance. "You don't have anything to say now?"

  "What do you want me to say?" I asked irritably. "That I'm done putting myself out there. That I don't want to feel that way ever again. That I can't ever trust another woman enough to take the risk of getting close to them."

  "Why do I feel like there's more going on here then just a break up?" Diana asked with concern. "Did something else happen with Paige? Did she cheat on you?"

  I wish. I stared at Diana with a bitter smile. That would have been so much better than the truth of what really happened. I think I might have been able to get past that.

  "Just because she cheated on you doesn't mean someone else will." She took my long silence as an admission and I didn't correct her.

  "I have to go," I told her. "Can we please not talk about this?"

  "Fine." She finally relented. I almost sighed with relief that she was dropping this subject, and that she hadn't insisted on knowing the truth. If I had my way, no one ever would. I wish I didn't know.

  I stepped forward and hugged my sister, which was a feat considering her huge swollen belly, but I managed. "I'll be okay," I assured her even though I wasn't sure I believed it. "I promise."

  "I hate that woman for what she did to you," Diana whispered against my chest.

  So do I. Unfortunately, hate was an insidious emotion, and once it got its claws into you, it was hard to let it go. I wasn't even sure I was ready to try to do that. "I love you," I told my sister, wishing the love I had for my family and friends was enough to banish this darkness inside me.

  "I love you, too." She patted my cheek as I stepped out of her arms.

  I nodded and got into my black Audi A6, backed out of the driveway, and drove off with a bitter feeling inside me that I wished would just go away.

  **********

  The small bar was packed when I walked in at a quarter to nine. The band was already setting up on the far side of the room. There was no stage, just a cleared out area along one wall. There was a drum kit set up and two microphone stands. Jensen was standing near one of them with his green Gibson guitar slung over his shoulder. He was fiddling with his amp while he talked to a tall and lanky guy with shoulder length dark hair, who I assumed was a band member.

  "There's Sydney," a voice spoke next to me. My friend Ben was standing next to me and pointing to a long table on the other side of the room. He was a little shorter than me with a slim build, short blond hair, and blue eyes. He was dressed in jeans, a graphic T-shirt, and a worn looking black leather jacket. He looked like a bad-boy nerd and some how managed to pull it off. Ben always had a perpetual smirk on his face, like everything was a punchline waiting to happen. We had been friends since high school, both of us dorky nerds who had banded together in self-preservation against the bullies.

  I noticed Sydney waving at me with a huge grin on her face. She was sitting with Jensen's best friend Andy and his fiancee, Lydia. Ben and I headed across the room toward them, and I sat down next to Sydney. I ended up sitting across from Andy. His dark hair was spiked haphazardly on his head like it always was, and he was wearing a faded denim jacket over a black T-shirt. I imagined he probably had his favorite beat up black Chuck Taylors on his feet under the table too.

  "What's up, Dave?" Andy greeted me with a wide grin across his bearded face, his vivid blue eyes lighting up.

  "Not much," I said with an answering smile. "How about you, Andrew?" Andy was a great guy, a real smart-ass and fun to be around. We had a running gag of him calling me Dave and me calling him Andrew. I found it amusing.

  "I'm feeling fantastic." He glanced over as Ben sat down next to me. "Who's the new guy?"

  "Ben Wiley." Ben reached across the table and offered his hand to Andy before I could introduce them myself.

  Andy shook his hand briefly. "I'm Andy Purcell, and this is my fiancee, Lydia Burke." Andy's beautiful red-headed fiancee smiled warmly and greeted Ben. Andy's eyes suddenly narrowed as he looked closer at Ben. "Wait a minute. Are you WileyOne?" he asked as he pointed at Ben.

  "Guilty." Ben nodded with a smirk. "And you must be TheAndyMan."

  "I sure am." Andy nodded enthusiastically with a delighted gleam in his eyes. Ben and I had been playing on-line warfare with Andy almost every Monday night for months, and this was the first time they had met in person. "I'm so stoked to meet you finally. You rock, dude. That killing streak you had last week was fucking insane."

  "Thanks, man," Ben said as he beamed with pride. "That sniper shot you had was pretty insane too."

  "I beg to differ, since I was the one you killed," I chimed in with a grin. "That damn shot came out of no where."

  "Are you guys going to talk about video games all night, or are you here to watch me fucking play?"
Jensen deep gruff voice spoke from the head of the table where he was standing between Sydney and Lydia. His voice sounded annoyed, but the wry twist of his mouth let us know he was messing with us. He was wearing jeans, and a dark-gray button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His guitar was hanging behind his back with the neck pointing down to the floor. He reached for the glass of soda on the table in front of him and took a drink.

  "Sorry, dude," Andy said sarcastically. "I guess you're just not that interesting." That comment earned Andy an actual glare from Jensen.

  "Maybe you should spend more time in the real world with the rest of us," Jensen told him bitingly.

  "You're a real dick when your sober, you know that?" Andy glared right back then took a sip from his beer.

  "Oh, my dick is very real all the time. Just ask Sydney," he answered with a slow smile spilling across his lips.

  "Jensen," Sydney scolded him, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment as the table burst into laughter. He shrugged unapologetically and took another sip of his drink. Then he leaned down toward her, his eyes heating as he looked at her, and pressed a brief but passionate kiss to her lips.

  As I watched, a sudden unwanted image of Natalie and her perfect lips popped into my head. I banished it out of my mind in annoyance. This was getting old. Why did I keep thinking about someone I didn't know and would never see again, even if I wanted to? Which I didn't.

  "Wish me luck," Jensen announced to us, then he smiled as we all started shouting encouragements at him as he walked back over to the band. A few moments later, they started playing a cover song by The Black Keys. I had only seen Jensen play one other time at his condo, and I had forgotten how good he really was. He played effortlessly, his singing voice just as effortless too. Each note was spot on. He didn't look stressed out at all. In fact, he was practically glowing. This was really his element, and it was good to see him embracing it with everything he had.