by A. S. Teague
I march in to the living room, intent on putting a stop to this. Breccan glances up when he hears me coming and smiles at me. Not a smirk or the smug smile meant to set my panties on fire, but a heartbreakingly beautiful, genuine smile.
I pause and study his face. Looking into his eyes, I expect to see pity staring back at me. Instead, I catch a glimpse of sadness—and something else I can’t quite put my finger on.
Interest?
Desire?
Longing?
His smile grows a little wider, and my breath catches. I feel like I’m finally seeing the real Breccan Carlisle.
Not the light heavyweight champion.
Not the pretty playboy.
Not the drunk guy who’s surprisingly charming.
But the real person under the mask.
Still looking at me, he answers Connor. “Yeah, man. I can definitely help with these.” He finally breaks eye contact and looks over at Connor.
I smooth my shirt down and straighten my hair trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. The intensity with which he was studying me is puzzling.
I’m still trying to dissect the exchange when I realize I’m standing in the middle of the room, awkwardly staring at both of them.
I move to the love seat and plop down before asking skeptically, “So, how exactly can you help?” It comes out as more of an accusation than a question, and I immediately regret my tone.
He’s been nothing but nice to Connor, I remind myself. Stop being so pessimistic all the time!
Looking over at me with a gleam in his eye and a half smile on his lips, he lifts one shoulder and says, “I’m Breccan Carlisle. That’s how.”
Just like that, the sincere guy has reverted back to the cocky man I met last weekend. And I’m once again befuddled.
Maybe he’s bipolar. Split personality?
I make a mental note to Google split personalities after Breccan leaves.
“Oh yeah. How could I forget,” I say dryly.
Still smirking, he quips back, “I don’t know, Sidney.” He says my name suggestively, and it sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m pretty unforgettable. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.” Before he turns his attention back to Connor, he winks at me.
Asshole.
He’s right. He is unforgettable. Which is why I’ve done nothing but think about him for over a month. Shaking myself out of the sudden funk I’m in, I focus on Connor.
He looks like he’s watching a tennis match, his head bouncing back and forth between the two of us. That sly smile he was sporting earlier in the kitchen is back. He finally settles his gaze on Breccan and asks, “So, which one of these can you help me with?”
Without hesitation Breccan answers, “All of them.”
Connor sputters, “All…all of them? But there’re, like, fifteen things on there.”
“Yep. All of them,” he repeats simply. “Hey, I’m starving. I didn’t get to finish my lunch earlier. Know anywhere that delivers salad?”
I shake my head at him.
“No? Damn. Well, looks like we’re going out.”
He doesn’t even bother asking, but I get the feeling that, even if he had, telling him no isn’t really an option.
Connor makes the decision for me when he shouts, “Hell yes!”
I let the curse word slide and get up to put my shoes on.
“Uh, just gotta make a quick phone call,” I murmur, digging my phone out of my purse. After pulling up Jake’s contact, I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
The phone rings several times before his voicemail picks up, and shamefully, I’m thankful I don’t have to actually talk to him.
“Hey, uh, Jake. It’s Sidney,” I stutter.
Breccan’s head snaps up, and he cocks an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.
I turn my back to him and lower my voice. “Something’s come up. I’m going to have to cancel our date. I’m really, uhm, really sorry. Have a good night.” I quickly end the call and turn around.
Breccan’s sporting the smuggest grin I’ve ever seen, and I roll my eyes at him.
Looks like I’m spending the rest of the afternoon with Breccan Carlisle. I’m not sure if the thought of that is terrifying or thrilling.
This definitely qualifies as terrifying and not thrilling.
“Sid! Are you ready? Can you believe we’re actually doing this?” Connor shouts over the din of the engine.
“No. I’m not! Shit!” I snap, glaring at him.
At the top of his bucket list was skydiving. I didn’t think he’d be legally allowed to skydive at the age of twelve, so I never gave it a second thought. But Breccan worked some sort of voodoo magic and convinced this company to let him—correction, us—do it. I’m pretty sure he probably threatened to kick the owner’s ass, but I didn’t ask and he didn’t tell.
So here I am, in the process of being strapped to another person before willingly throwing myself out of a plane, possibly to my death, all because my nephew thinks it’ll be cool. And, apparently, Breccan is joining us today, because when we arrived, he was sitting in his fancy car, a big, cheesy grin on his face.
I tried to act annoyed when he saw me staring, but when his smile grew wider, I couldn’t keep my lips from turning up in a little grin. If I am being perfectly honest, I was a bit relieved he would be here for support. The thought of his being here soothed me in ways I couldn’t even begin to understand. I was still so frustrated and disappointed with the fact that our meeting had only made an impression on me. But those feelings were overshadowed by the fact that his presence was comforting. There is nothing he could actually do to protect me, but that doesn’t matter.
Even with the extra moral support, I am still not convinced that I’m not about to die.
Trying one last time to talk him out of it, I reason, “Connor, honey, I don’t know. This is really dangerous. Not to mention I am terrified. Couldn’t you have asked your uncle to do this with you? Your football coach? The creepy, old guy who lives next door? Anyone? I’m not sure I can do this.” I nervously ramble.
All the while, Connor is grinning from ear to ear. They look at each other before Breccan turns back to me.
“Sidney, it’s gonna be awesome. The thrill of a lifetime. You’ll love it.”
I’m not buying it. This is definitely something an adrenaline junkie like him would love, but this shit isn’t for a boring accountant like me.
Giving up on talking anyone out of this mess, I finish signing no less than ten different forms, swearing we won’t sue should Connor have an “adverse reaction” to skydiving. I’m pretty sure the definition of that in this case was death, but he doesn’t seem to care.
The owner of the company, who coincidentally is also the pilot, is glaring at Breccan. Smiling back at him, I hand Connor the forms and ask him to take them over. Once he trots off, I turn to Brec.
Smoothing my hair into a ponytail, I ask “How’d you manage to convince him to let Connor jump?”
He lifts a shoulder and replies, “Just had a little chat. That’s all.”
It’s obvious he isn’t going to elaborate, and the more I think about it, I realize I probably don’t want to know anyway.
“So, you a thrill seeker, Sidney?” He smirks.
I’m not sure if he’s making fun of me or just teasing, but I roll my eyes. “Oh yes. Jumping out of planes is nothing new. Just last week, I was base-jumping off Mount Rushmore. What about you?”
His eyes sparkle when he says, “I prefer to get my thrills in other ways. I’m more of an instant-gratification kind of guy.”
My cheeks heat as I catch the meaning of what he’s saying. I don’t get the chance to respond before Connor comes bouncing back over. Breccan winks at me as the instructors finish suiting us up and attach about a million different harnesses on us. We’ve already watched the videos about safety while skydiving, as if that’s even logically possible, and are now headed out to the plane. There is a small group of us, just fi
ve people, jumping for the first time and their experienced tandem partner. The other two first-timers are also bubbling with enthusiasm. It seems I am the only person in the group with any common sense. Or desire to go on breathing.
Breccan starts talking and shakes me out of my vision of me falling straight into a grave.
“Hey, kid. I think your aunt’s a scaredy-cat.” Teasing me, he ruffles my hair.
I want to say something, but my mind is blank. Instead, I just glare at him while attempting to smooth my unruly locks.
Laughing, Connor plays along. “It’s so much fun watching her squirm, don’t you think, Brec?” He wiggles around to imitate me squirming, but he just looks like he has a bug in his shirt.
Breccan adds, “Can you imagine the look on her face when they shove her out the plane’s door?”
They both laugh at this, and before I can say anything, the instructors start shouting instructions. I’ve barely had time to absorb it all when the plane becomes airborne and I begin the ascent to what is sure to be my untimely demise.
“That was incredible!” I shout as I run across the field toward Connor and Breccan.
The plane took us up to over ten thousand feet, and the terror I was feeling was indescribable. Never in my life have I ever been more scared as I was the moment the plane door opened and Connor and his partner jumped out. I could hear him scream for an instant, and it was only the fear for his safety that ultimately convinced me to follow suit and jump as well. I’m not sure what I thought I would be able to do for him, but I needed to be able to see him and reassure myself that he was okay. After I jumped, I lost track of where Breccan was, but I thought I heard him whoop behind me.
The moment we started our freefall, everything changed. I can’t say if it was the danger that I was in or the adrenaline pumping through my veins, but something happened to me while I was plummeting to the earth at one hundred forty miles per hour. It was almost as if time stood still. Even though I was physically strapped to another person, there was nothing else in the world aside from me and the wind and the clouds. For the first sixty seconds, it was hard to catch my breath, but the moment the parachute opened, a sense of peace washed over me. It was so serene and quiet that I thought, Surely this must be what Heaven is like.
I open my mouth to ask Connor what he thought when I realize he is pale and sweaty.
“Oh my gosh, Connor! What happened? Are you okay?” Instantly, my mind starts going in a million different directions. I’ve convinced myself that he needs to go straight to the emergency room by the time he responds.
“I’m fine. It was just a bit scarier than I expected. I’m a little dizzy, but the guy says that happens all the time That’s all. Stop worrying so much.” His voice is shaky, and he looks slightly green.
I turn around three hundred sixty degrees, looking for a place where Connor can sit down, and see Breccan running towards us, his arms in the air.
“Sidney, that was fucking awesome! What did—” He stops midsentence when he sees Connor, worry replacing his excitement. “Hey, kid, you okay? You’re a little green there.”
Ducking his head, Connor responds, “Yeah, dude, I’m fine. It figures that Aunt Sid would love it and I would be the wimp who almost wet his pants.” Forcing a weak laugh, he asks, “You don’t think I’m a wuss, right?” He’s quickly getting his color back, which starts to alleviate my concerns some.
I still haven’t ruled out a trip to the hospital when Breccan interrupts my thoughts.
“Shit, no, dude. When I jumped out the plane, I almost wet my pants.” He cuffs Connor on the arm before giving me a sly smile. “So, you liked it, huh, Sidney? Told you it would be amazing. Maybe next time, you’ll trust me.” His voice is low and sexy, and my stomach flutters.
“Yeah. It was amazing.” Caught up in the memory of free-falling to the earth, I gaze up at the sky. “I can’t believe how free I felt. It was like the world stopped. I can’t even describe the overload of feelings.”
My gaze meet his, and for a moment, I feel like I did during the fall. Unable to catch my breath, but peaceful and content. Confused by the emotions I experience every time I’m around him, I focus my attention on Connor.
“Honey, are you going to be okay? Do we need to take you to the hospital?” I study his face, looking for any signs that he needs medical attention.
Whipping his head up, he squeaks, “No! Aunt Sid, I’m okay, I promise. Please don’t tell Mom about this. She won’t let me do anything else on my list if you do. You have to promise me!” He folds his hands together while he begs. “There are still so many things I have left to cross off. Please, please, Aunt Siddy.” Playing dirty, he uses the nickname he called me when he was younger.
Powerless against it, I throw my hands in the air. “Fine. Fine. I won’t say anything to her.”
“You’re the best!” he exclaims before heading towards the office to take his gear off.
Breccan steps in front of me, blocking my path “Hey, uh, I know it isn’t any of my business, but I was just wondering. Where is Abby? The last couple of times I’ve seen y’all, she hasn’t been around. I figured she would be here with him today.”
His question reminds me that Abby is once again out of town and missing out on her son’s life all in the name of responsible journalism.
Irritated with her, I snap, “Out of town. Like she is for most of the year.”
He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.”
“No,” I sigh. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t aimed at you. I just get upset when I think about how she’s missing so much of Connor’s life for her job. She’s an investigative reporter.”
Recognition dawns on him. “I thought I recognized her the first time I met her. I’ve seen her on TV covering crazy shit. Like wars and stuff, right?”
I nod. “Yep. That’s her. Sometimes, I think she’s avoiding Connor because she can’t deal with his illness. Her job is the perfect excuse to take off all the time. But that’s exactly what it is—a fucking excuse. She’s his mom. She should be here, you know?” Waving my arm, I gesture around us. “But Connor doesn’t seem to mind. He’s always been open with me, and he’s not mentioned it once. So I guess, if he isn’t mad about it, I shouldn’t be, right?” I shrug. It’s that same old song and dance with Abby, and for once, I don’t feel like doing it.
I blink in surprise when Breccan puts an arm around my shoulder and squeezes.
“Must be hard on you,” he says. “And Connor. He’s lucky he’s got you. My parents weren’t around much, either, when I was a kid. I get it.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t press the issue.
Leaving his arm draped around me, he begins walking toward the office. The simple gesture comforts me. Leaning into his side, I enjoy the weight of his muscular arm holding me tight.
Something inside me shifted when I read the kid’s bucket list. There was no way I was going to be able to walk away from him without doing everything I could to help him check the items off that list.
Every. Last. One.
I’ve always enjoyed the perks of being famous, but being able to call in favors to help Connor out was a new kind of high.
When Mark insisted that I meet with him, I was pissed. I didn’t have time to be a circus monkey for some kid I didn’t even know.
After that first meeting, I was interested in him and his pretty aunt.
After the second visit, I was hooked. I couldn’t spend enough time with the kid who was enjoying his life even though he was dying and the beautiful, somewhat nerdy woman who was inexplicably showing up in my dreams.
Connor is a huge Atlanta Falcons fan, and the next item to check off his bucket list is to go to a game. I had a couple of buddies who play for the team, so all it took was a phone call. Connor is about to be treated to a day he will never forget.
Picking him and Sidney up early that morning, I can hardly contain my own excitement. While Sidney is in o
n the surprise, Connor is clueless and not happy at having to get out of bed so early.
“Uh, what are we doing? It’s, like, seven thirty in the morning. Who gets up this early on a Sunday?” he grumbles from my back seat.
I look over at Sidney and see that she is wearing the same grin I am. “You’ll see, man. Just sit back and enjoy Velma,” I tell him before taking Sidney’s hand in my own.
Her eyebrows pop in surprise and her body stiffens at the contact, but within seconds, her lips turn up as she relaxes. Quickly, I turn my head away from her so she won’t see just how relieved I am that she didn’t snatch her hand out of mine.
“Velma?” she questions, forcing me to glance back at her.
With my free hand, I lovingly rub the steering wheel. “Yeah. That’s her name. Velma.” I shoot her a grin while keeping my eyes on the road. “You know, from Scooby Doo? Please tell me you’ve seen Scooby Doo,” I plead. I may have to kick her out if she tells me that she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
Calming my fears, she laughs. “Of course I’ve seen Scooby Doo. But why Velma? You look more like the Daphne type,” she teases.
When we roll to a stop at the stoplight, I look her directly in the eye. “Yeah. Daphne’s all right. But Velma’s where it’s at. Nerdy girls are hot.” I wink.
Her cheeks pink as she dips her head. Giving her hand another squeeze, I draw her attention back to me and then smile just as the light turns green again.
I pull into the stadium parking lot and hear Connor perk up from the back seat. Then I roll my window down to speak to the guard at the gate. “I’ve got Connor O’Neil here.” In the rearview mirror, I see Connor’s face light up.
“Oh yeah. Mr. O’Neil,” he replies, looking down at a clipboard. “We’ve been expecting him. Come on in and park over there by the doors marked employees only. I’ll radio ahead and let them know to send someone out to meet you.” He leans toward the window to wink at Connor. “Y’all have a good time today, okay?”
My window is only halfway back up when Connor starts peppering us with questions. “Expecting me? Holy crap, am I going to see a game? But why are we here so early? The game doesn’t start until one.” He pauses long enough to take a breath before continuing. “Do you think I might be able to get an autograph? Aunt Sid, I need one of those foam fingers! Wait till I tell the guys about this. I’m going to see a Falcons game with Breccan Carlisle. They are gonna shit! Oh, sorry!” He cheeks are red, and he’s panting a little.
