Brett’s nervous laughter breaks through my thoughts. “Maybe I am crazy?”
Gosh dangit, Ruby, you’re ruining it! “No, no.” I fervently shake my head, blinking away the film over my eyes so I can see him. “No, you’re not crazy at all. Brett.” Quit the hysteria. Talk. Tell him how you feel without looking like a ridiculously emotional woman.
“First time I declare my feelings to a girl and she’s overcome with tears.” Brett shakes his head and takes my face in his hands. “That’s either a good thing or bad.”
My watery giggle bubbles over and I swallow. Gosh, I think I love him. Can I say it? “I’m sorry. Amber’s a smart girl, figuring us out like that. But I’m scared. I don’t know where this is going.”
“We could start here.” Brett leans in, and this time we connect. My hands reach in between his, holding his face to mine.
The door buzzer sounds. Are you kidding me? Pizza guy, you have horrible timing!
“Stupid fate,” he mutters against my lips. “Should have ordered from a place that doesn’t have the thirty minutes or it’s free policy. Chinese, Thai, the burger joint around the corner—”
I grin and kiss him once more. “I believe you were the one who suggested pizza.” I get up, buzzing in the delivery person.
When I turn away from the door to get plates and napkins ready for us, Brett is there.
“One more kiss.” His arms wrap around my waist, pressing me to him. “You know, to verify your feelings and all.” He swoops down, taking my lips with a little more aggression than the first time. I sigh into his mouth.
“Did I mention how happy I am that you’re here?” I ask against his lips, my forehead resting against his.
“Did I mention I’d eat whatever you wanted? Pizza was merely a suggestion.”
“After we finish eating, I’ll decide if I forgive you or not. This pizza better be the best in Brooklyn.”
“The yellow page ad claimed it is, so it must be true.” He snatches a slice from the box.
“Just like the coffee shop down the street that proclaims, ‘The World’s Best Cup of Coffee’ isn’t using false advertising.”
While Brett gets comfortable on the ground in front of the futon with his pizza, I grab the ’92 recital and pop it into the VCR. “I’m only putting this on to get out of dancing for you in person.”
Settling into the futon close to him, I press play on the remote. Music streams from the TV speakers, filling the room as we eat in silence. I peer down at Brett a couple times, who never takes his eyes off the screen. I’ve never been more nervous in my life. Every time I watch these recitals I see every flaw, every wrong arm and foot placement. I see everything I could’ve done better. Most other people don’t see those kinds of things, but Brett’s watching so intently, he has to notice at least a few of my screw ups.
My last performance ends and he peers up at me. “How do you not get dizzy doing all those spins? And please tell me you still have the red costume. It’s kinda hot.”
I laugh and fuss with the back of his hair, rolling my eyes. “I still have it, but it’s in California. And as for the spins . . . it’s all about finding your center, focusing on one thing, and keeping an eye on it for every rotation. Eventually, it becomes second nature.”
Brett places his empty plate on the floor, his head turning to the side. He’s sitting impossibly close to my bare leg. Every time he lifted his pizza to his lips his forearm brushed against me, so the touch of his hand on my calf doesn’t affect me. At first.
“Your calf muscle is a rock.” His fingertips skim the back of my leg from my knee to my ankle. “I’m a bit jealous.”
Goosebumps trail down my arms. I don’t want his fingertips to stop. “That calf muscle is years and years of conditioning and dedication.”
Brett shifts onto his knees, facing me. His hand remains on the back of my calf. “I’m impressed—” He removes my plate from my lap and sets it next to me. “—by not only your calves, but by your dancing. You are amazing. No wonder NYU let you in.”
I try to swallow quietly. “I guess all my hard work paid off.”
His eyes hold a certain gleam as his hands wrap around my wrists. “Now time for the fun part.”
I suppress my giggle. “And what might that be, Mr. Pratt?”
“A tango. Your lips, my lips.” He wags his brows as he maintains a serious face for 1.2 seconds before he bursts out laughing.
“Oh my gosh. Maybe I’ll teach you how to dance the real tango someday.”
“I’d like that. But for now . . .” Brett tugs me down as he stretches up and our lips meet once again.
***
“It’s getting late,” Brett sighs. Shifting me from his lap and sliding me onto the futon next to him. He holds my legs across him, his warm palm massaging my knee as though it’s a habit. His hair is a mess. What can I say? I like to tangle my fingers in it.
“I don’t want this night to end.” I touch my swollen lips. I want to keep kissing him, but if we continue I’ll look like a duckbill platypus in the morning. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to go, but unlike you I need my beauty sleep, especially if I’m going to spend one last day as your tour guide.”
One last day. Saddest three words ever. “No funny business,” I say, trying to entice him. “Just sleep. If we only get one more day, I don’t wanna miss any of those hours.”
“Are you asking me to sleep here?”
I guarantee my cheeks are turning red. “Yes?”
Silence. Maybe I was too forward? I shouldn’t have asked him to stay. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea about me. But the thought of him walking out my door—even with a promise of seeing him tomorrow—makes me physically ill. I want his arms around me all night, to have the comfort of his presence.
“I would love to sleep with you.” His face goes up in flames. Glad I’m not the only one. “Um, I mean stay with you, sleep, nothing else. Yeah, just sleep."
I FEEL LUCKY
Brett
THURSDAY, AUGUST 12
Someone turn off the light! I shift away from the blinding ray of sunlight shining in my eyes with a groan, “It’s too early.”
Ruby grunts. Oops. Did I just steamroll on top of Ruby in my sleepy haze? I’m not used to sharing a bed with anyone. “Sorry,” I chuckle. Well, since I’ve woken her up. “We’re getting you blackout shades ASAP.” I whisper, kissing her temple.
“I should’ve thought about it when we were walking around yesterday,” she yawns, stretching next to me. Her throaty giggle, sated by sleep, stirs my blood.
“I need water.” My throat is sore from all of the talking we did last night, even after we said goodnight and swore each other to silence. Her voice saying “oh, one more thing” over and over—breaking the vow and adding another new fact to the others we’d discussed about ourselves—echoes in my mind. I love the way she sounds late at night, half asleep.
I slide from the mattress, nearly falling to the floor as I stand. Curtains, and a bed frame. “Do you need anything while I’m up?”
“A coffee and a pastry. Thanks.” Ruby moves to her side, away from the windows with a tired smile.
“Ha. You’re cute. You better slide on your magic slippers and click your heels, because I’ve got nothing.”
I grab a water and sit on the bed next to her hip. Somewhere under those sheets is her . . . my hand stretches forward, my fingers finding their mark. Ruby flails, getting to her hands and knees, crawling away from me.
Extremely ticklish? Check.
“Now that you’re up—” She eyes my hand warily, and I throw on my best boyish grin. “—Why don’t we grab some breakfast and run to Cole’s so I can change from these clothes. Then we can get an early start on the day.”
“When I asked Greta the best place for breakfast around here, she told me about this place called Peter Pan. It’s a donut and pastry shop.”
“Peter Pan?” She’s joking right? My eyes n
arrow on her bright face. “Are you making fun of me because of yesterday?”
She laughs and sits up against the wall. “That’s what she said. And I would never. Apparently they have the best handmade donuts.”
There’s that face again—the sweet and innocent look. Ha! She’s so lying. “Yes, you would,” I point out. “However, I like the idea of those handmade donuts. I suppose you want to shower first?”
“Yes, I’ll make it quick.” She hops up. “You can time me.”
Ruby in the shower with me in the same room—well, nearly the same room? Fabulous. I pace the small space. Don’t think of her. Don’t think of what’s behind that door. Don’t focus on . . . the shower turns off. Wow, that was quick. She’s not Amber, the water waster. Relieved she’ll be fully clothed soon, I sit on the futon and wait.
***
“Okay, Peter Pan is now my favorite donut place, ever.” I open the car door for Ruby, handing her the box of donuts I grabbed for Cole. “Set those in back for me?”
“Is this your sketchbook?” Ruby asks as I slide into the driver’s seat.
“One of them.” Which one does she have? I’m not shy about sharing my work, but there are some things—like sketches of Hope and Carmen—I’d prefer not to explain.
She opens it carefully, turning the pages one at a time. “These are incredible, Brett.”
“You think? I have a lot of different—what would you call it—themes, I guess.”
“I’ll say.” Her eyes don’t leave the pages.
“Is that the one with the rock n’ roll monkey on the cover?” She holds it up. The monkey is rainbow colored and screaming, a pair of headphones on his head and gold chains around his neck. No wonder her ‘I’ll say’ sounded confused. “Those are my crazy sketches. They’re mostly things for skaters. Ideas for my buddies, like graphics for shirts and boards.” I chuckle. “Find the red one.”
Ruby spins around, shuffling through the contents of the backseat. She turns back with the red sketchbook in hand. “Red for Ruby?” She smirks.
“That’s the one.”
Her fingers open to the first page and she lets out a gasp. The first page is a pencil sketch of a couple sitting in front of a fire with snow falling outside a window. “Is this us?”
“And here I was thinking I’m not at all embarrassed for you to see my art.” I could hide at this moment. “It’s my version of us at the cabin I asked for. Come to think of it, I drew a pretty good likeness of you, seeing as I had no idea what you looked like at the time.”
“Brett.” Her eyes are wide as she looks at me. “I want a copy. I need a copy of this.”
My heart jolts, for her—my girl with the ruby slippers. “You’ve got it. You’re great inspiration. That book is filled with stuff I never would have drawn if it weren’t for you. Dancing and beaches weren’t exactly my thing before.”
“Well, you could’ve fooled me. You can draw anything.” She flips through my red sketchbook, stopping on each piece, a different sound of amazement coming from her mouth.
“You know there are a hundred more books where those came from. Art’s been my hobby forever, and my therapy over the last year. Art and paper planes.”
“Awww . . .” she murmurs. “You drew the steps for how to make a paper plane?”
I bite the corner of my lip. “No, I drew my tattoo.”
“This is the tattoo you want?”
“Nooo, it’s the tattoo I have.” Her jaw drops. Uh, oh. “Sorry I didn’t let you research the artist first?”
“When did you get it? Where is it? I want to see!”
“Monday, around 2:00 AM when I arrived at Cole’s place. He was working, and I was too amped up to do anything else. It’s on my ribcage, I can show it to you later.”
“I can’t believe you got it after everything.” Her head shakes. “Oh!” She jumps in her seat, her hand at her throat. “Oh my gosh, I’ve been hugging you so tight, why didn’t you say anything? Doesn’t it hurt? And we were supposed to go together!”
Doesn’t it hurt? Ha, if she only knew how much.
“Sorry, I know I told you you could hold my hand, but it felt like the right moment. Coming here was about me taking two large steps in my life,” I explain “The tattoos represents that. They’re not just for you. I mean, you’re a huge part of them. But they also represent my parents, and everything that has changed since the crash.”
“I get that. It’s why I brought your planes with me. They don’t only represent my gradual fall for you, they represent my year of healing, and all that I never want to forget.”
“As for the pain, I’ll take a bit of that if it means I’m holding you,” I wink. She’s making me sappier by the moment. “Don’t worry though, it’s not huge, and it’s up under my arm—” I tap the side of my pec at the top of my ribcage. “So a hug doesn’t affect it.”
She’s looks suspicious, but nods, and I squeeze her hand as we arrive at 38th Street. I park four houses down from Cole’s. No wonder he wanted to get rid of his car—parking in Queens’ neighborhoods is non-existent. “Here we are.”
“Are you sure this is okay? I’m not intruding or anything, am I?”
“Of course it’s okay. When I called Cole last night I told him we’d drop by. We’re lucky he’s off this morning. He works like a maniac. I’m glad I changed my mind about being a doctor.”
I open the door to Cole’s building. “Cole lucked out with this place. Another resident, who he went to school with a few years back, was moving and called Cole when he heard about him transferring here.”
Ruby is silent up the steps and down the hallway. Her palm hot against mine. “Hey, there’s no reason to be nervous. Cole’s laid back, I promise.” I press a kiss to the worried crease in her forehead. Does she know she does that? It might be my favorite place to kiss of hers, after her lips. My eyes move lower, so maybe her long, slim neck is a favorite too. Now I’m hot and bothered. Crap.
I insert my key, ready to go in once I get the go-ahead from Ruby. She nods, stretching up, her lips reaching for mine. I dip down . . . the doorknob slips from my fingers, Cole’s door flying open.
“It’s about time you got here.” Amber complains, standing in Cole’s open doorway, a smirk on her face.
I release Ruby’s hand and she scoots behind my back as I grab Amber, hugging her. “What are you doing here?” I’ve never gone this long without seeing her.
“I missed you, you jerk.” She pulls back and punches my bicep playfully. “It was bad enough you had to leave me to spend a month hiking, but you had to come here, too?”
“I was coming home tomorrow, crazy.”
“Sure, but I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet the infamous Ruby.” Amber pushes me aside and thrusts her hand at Ruby. “Hey. I’m the better half.”
Psh, she wishes.
Ruby reaches out and, true to her spirit, Amber yanks her into the apartment. “Come in here. We have a lot of talking to do and very little time.”
With a small laugh, Ruby flashes panicked eyes at me as she disappears into the apartment with Amber on her tail.
“Oh my word, she’s so cute, B,” Amber gushes. “I see why you like her, but what could you possibly see in my overprotective butt of a brother?”
I merely shake my head. There’s no rescuing her from my sister. Not this version of Amber anyway.
“You talking about me again?” Cole asks as he appears in the doorway between his bedroom and the small living area.
“What? Ruby, are you in love with Cole, too?” Amber’s mouth falls open as her eyes lock on Ruby’s. Always the drama queen.
Ruby has got to be dying with embarrassment. Her face is flushed. She doesn’t speak a word—not that Amber gives her much of an opening. Her eyes dart between my sister and me.
“Amber,” I warn.
“Don’t bother chastising her, she’s been bouncing off the walls since she arrived last night with excitement over meeting Ruby, and seeing you.” Cole h
as the audacity to ruffle Amber’s hair as he walks into the room. Have I entered the Twilight Zone? I glance between Cole and Amber. Since Cole came into our lives, they’ve struggled to form a bond. This is new, and interesting. He stands before Ruby and smiles. It’s our dad’s smile. How did I not notice before? “Ruby? I’m the older brother, Cole. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” She offers him a smile, and peers over at me like I’m a safety net. She’s seriously dying here.
“I have donuts.” I lift the forgotten box into the air. Three pairs of eyes look at me as though I’ve lost my mind.
“So, Ruby, tell me all about yourself, where did you guys go yesterday, what are you plans today? Oh, I want to know about your dancing. Do you plan on dancing professionally? Maybe you could dance in music videos. You know that’s how Paula Abdul got her start—”
“Geez, Am. Chill out.” I step in, steering Ruby to the love seat and sitting her next to me.
“Umm . . . ” Ruby scratches her temple. “Well . . . I don’t really know where to start.” Her timid eyes shift to me. “We just walked—”
“Nope,” I put a finger to Ruby’s lips. “Don’t bother answering her. If you do, she’ll ask more questions.”
Amber snarls at me. She actually snarls. “You are not going to fault me for showing interest in your life.”
I roll my eyes. “That there is the signature Amber whine, Ruby. She likes getting her way.”
Ruby’s lips twitch as Cole laughs. “I don’t mind answering her questions.”
“You don’t?” She can’t say I didn’t warn her. My hand squeezes her knee. “I tell you what, I need a shower before we go site seeing. Do you think you can handle these two for roughly twenty minutes?”
“I’ll do my best.” She cracks a brave smile.
“That’s my girl,” I murmur, stealing a peck on the lips. She turns beet red. I don’t regret it one bit. Amber simply stares at us, smiling from her chair. She looks like she wants to shoot me a thumbs up. She loves Ruby already. How could she not? Our letters didn’t lie.
Paper Planes and Other Things We Lost Page 27
