Exposing the Bad Boy

by Nora Flite

  It was so much more than it should have been.

  Maybe one of us should have said something. A word or two to express this... this feeling that was burning us inside and out. I just didn't know what would fit the moment.

  But I thought... with time...

  I would find the name for what was growing between us both.

  - Chapter Twelve -

  Pike

  On the gigantic side of a building, the brightly colored images flashed by. I saw myself dressed in some brand new logos for a company selling sneakers, jumping out of a helicopter over a park below.

  At the last second, as I fell towards the ground, the camera cut away. Then it zoomed in, showing my feet coming down, focusing on the bottoms and displaying some insane jumble of numbers as if math was involved in the design—and in how I'd landed from thousands of feet and not died.

  It was one of the many commercials I'd filmed in the past month, each more ridiculous than the last.

  Though, as I peered out the car window, seeing the giant image of me running off with the wind in my hair, I had to admit... I looked good when I was as big as King Kong.

  “We're here,” the driver said, pulling beside one of the many high-rises in New York City. I'd never been here before, but every business we'd rolled past—Golden Boots, Cat Scratch Mickey's, the Blue Velvet—they all looked like places I couldn't wait to check out when it got dark.

  Ellie wouldn't appreciate that, I mused, grinning as I pictured her cute scowl. There was something so fun in riling her up. Ever since the first shoot in Dubai, we'd been juggling spending time together with the high-speed life of sponsorship.

  I hadn't seen her in four days, and the ache I was now familiar with had become my companion. One quick dip into a bar, and I could quell this itch.

  The old me would have indulged in an instant. Hell, maybe not even waited until it got dark to pick up some sexy, eager woman. It'd be easier now, my face was all over the place—fame had made me a lucky guy.

  But Ellie...

  She made me feel luckier.

  Smirking at my own ridiculous actions, I pushed out of the car. Whatever was going on between Ellie and I, I wasn't about to risk it with a quick fling on a forgettable pair of legs. I didn't grasp it entirely, I just knew I was wrapped up in Ellie in such a way that, for now, the idea of it ending was worse than the dumb ache of not getting laid.

  Checking my phone for any messages from her, I sighed. Focus, you have a job to do. Inside the building, I gazed over the cool grey ceiling. This was the home of Tea-Cola; it was also the place they wanted to film a commercial for their company.

  It felt a little egotistical to me, but what did it matter?

  I got to jump from the top—that was enough for me.

  “You're Pike Moss,” a voice said. It belonged to a man who looked close to my age, his hair a mess of blonde and blue spikes. “I'm Ridge Hemell. Nice to meet you in person.”

  Blinking, I shook his hand. “You're Ridge?” The owner of Tea-Cola was far younger than I'd expected.

  Grinning sheepishly, he waved me towards the elevator. “Yeah, I get that a lot. I practically grew up here when my father ran it. He passed on a year ago, so, well.” Shrugging, he tapped the button for the top floor. “Just made sense for me to step in.”

  Studying him, I said carefully, “Sorry about your father.”

  “It's fine. Death just happens.”

  I recognized the kind of casual shrug-off that came with pain, and with people constantly reminding you of the loss. Knowing all too well the desire to move on, I changed the subject. “So, what are we doing today?”

  “What you're a pro at,” he said, beaming. Waving me on, we traversed a set of stairs, appearing on the roof. I was getting to know a variety of roofs very well with my new job. “You're going to jump from there...” He pointed to the top of a tall antenna. “Then glide down here. The cameras are in the windows below.”

  Studying the layout, I leaned over to peer at the alley. “Seems simple. Nothing fancy? Do I drink your product in the air, anything like that?”

  Lifting an arm, he motioned for one of the people on the roof to join us. “Nope. We're going to do some animation in post. The alley walls will have monsters moving around, like they're following you. After you land, we'll have you open a bottle—and poof!” He waggled his fingers dramatically. “They all vanish!”

  Laughing at his enthusiasm, I took the parachute the woman wandering my way offered me. “Alright. So we film the drink part separately?”

  “Yeah, after you land, we'll set that shot up. So all you're doing right now is navigating between these buildings.”

  I liked the commercials that let me focus on the fall.

  The set up was fast; I did the usual equipment check, had the cameras pointed out to me. I admit, I was stoked that I got to climb the antenna. I imagined it was some private perch above the rest of the world.

  Humming to myself, I swung my chute on. Jumping without a helmet had become the norm. Gripping the metal rungs, I hoisted myself with grace, clambering upwards until I was hanging off the side of the antenna's tip.

  Here, the breeze cradled my face and made me smile.

  Below me, Ridge gave the signal. Bunching my knees, I launched forward, dropping without a hint of fear towards the pavement below. Fuck, I loved this. Every time, it renewed my appreciation for my own existence.

  Unlike Dubai, this fall was fast—shorter than usual. Not worrying, pushing the drop to the last second, I ripped the cord and tensed up. The chute opened, but that wasn't the issue.

  Falling wasn't where the trouble waited for me.

  As I dropped between the buildings, I knew, seconds before anything happened, that I'd made a mistake; I'd misjudged the space I was heading into. There was something awful about knowing you were about to endure pain.

  Personally, I would have preferred the surprise.

  My foot skimmed the corner of a fire escape. Sharp, crunching pain radiated up my leg, freezing my limbs and demanding I lock into a ball. But I couldn't—not here. Not if I wanted to live.

  Ignoring the searing heat in my foot, I tilted the chute, darted over the canvas-tented widows below. Everything was a whirl of red brick and molten pain, my eyes throbbing with my desperate focus.

  The instant I broke out from the alley, I aimed low, bouncing off of a dumpster instead of flying into the waiting traffic. Getting creamed by a truck would be instant death.

  Grunting from the impact, I skidded over the ground. My skull and brain argued for room, the rest of me plastic and unfeeling on the pavement.

  Voices shouted, rising from places I couldn't move to see. Faces swam overhead, fleshy and pink and wobbling. Unable to watch them without my stomach dropping, I closed my eyes. The blackness was soothing—the echo of arriving ambulances even better.

  As I lay there on the rough concrete, I wiggled my hands, tested my breathing, rocked gently to make sure my spine and hips were in tact. And while the crowd worried, the paramedics screeching their tires and the police shouting to make room, I realized I was laughing. No doubt everyone around thought I was insane, but the thing is, they didn't understand.

  How could they?

  I'd crashed between buildings, each solid brick and strip of metal waiting to be the object that broke me into useless chunks. I knew the whiff of death, how close I'd come to pure destruction.

  So how could I not laugh?

  When it was all said and done...

  I was alive.

  ****

  Sitting in the hospital bed, I gave Ellie my biggest grin ever when she slammed through the doors. I don't think that made her feel any better.

  “Pike, what happened!? Are you alright?” Rushing to my side, she snatched my hand, felt my forehead.

  Chuckling, I circled her wrist gently. “What are you looking for, a fever?”

  “I don't know!” Wide-eyed, she clutched at my face. “After they called me, I got the fir
st flight in from LA. I thought... fuck, when I heard you were in an accident, I just...” The edges of her eyes glistened, tears turning them into fresh morning grass. Her panic cut me deep, scraping away the joy of my own survival.

  She thought I was dead.

  We were alone in the room. If we hadn't been, I still would have done what I did next.

  Taking her in my arms, I pulled Ellie on top of me, ignoring her squeak of surprise. Making her face me, my arms circled her waist, cupped her chin so I could brush her swollen bottom lip. “Don't go crying for me,” I said softly. “Save your tears for someone who deserves them.”

  Sniffling, she wiped at her face fiercely. “You do deserve them, though.”

  “I think I deserve your smile,” I said, smoothing her hair off of her neck. “I'm alive, that's got to earn me something sweet.”

  Laughing in both surprise and relief, she leaned down to hug me. It was rough enough to choke, but I didn't mind. I'd give Ellie anything she needed, even at the expense of my own comfort. “Stupid,” she said against my skin. “You don't know how scared I was.”

  “I can take a guess.”

  Leaning away, Ellie stared straight into my eyes. Her sudden seriousness smothered my attempt at lightening the mood. “You almost died, Pike.”

  Shifting, I pointed down at my foot. “I sprained two toes. The doctor says I'll be out today, it's really nothing. Minor stuff.”

  She didn't flinch, didn't ease her intensity. “You. Almost. Died.”

  My frown won out. Gingerly, I adjusted her off of my lap. “That's not anything new. Every jump is a risk. That's how it's always been.”

  Clutching the edges of her shirt, she said, “You told me before that you didn't have a death wish. Were you lying?”

  Acid bubbled in my stomach. Challenging her with my glare, I didn't break away. I'd had this conversation too many times in my life. “The chance of death isn't the same as having a death wish. I take precautions, I'm careful, I—”

  “You do all that, and you still came this close to dying!” Throwing her hands up, she lowered her voice. The heat remained.

  Cynicism wasn't my best shade. “I thought you wanted me to do this. You fought to get me to join Maximal, did you forget that? My jumps make you money.”

  I was sure there was hurt in her eyes. “Is this really worth doing, if it leads to an early grave?”

  My jaw was stiff, teeth creaking. In that moment, looking up into the face of the woman I adored, I understood exactly what she wanted from me. In her world, quitting the fall was easy.

  But I didn't live in her world.

  I never had. Not truly.

  “You're asking me to stop jumping.” I was as placid as a summer pond. “Ellie, understand this. I can't stop. I never will. Not over danger, not over money. You're wasting your time asking me to give it up.”

  Standing taller, she filled her chest with air. I was surprised when her voice came out so calmly. “I see. Maybe I'm wasting my time in more ways than I realized.”

  Ice flooded my veins. I wanted to scream—to shake her and make her remember, just for a second, the hint of what she'd felt when we'd skydived together.

  I wanted to let her into my head, my heart, so she could experience the true connection I bathed in when I was plummeting through the air. For her to learn why I really did it.

  I wanted to say so many things. Do so many things.

  In the end, I'll always be a fuck up.

  Rolling onto my side, I mumbled, “You should go home, Miss Cutter. There's nothing left for you to do here.”

  The silence that swam around us was deafening. I thought it had the power to slip into my mouth, to coil down my throat and strangle my heart where it lay beating. Never in my life have I felt such grief for someone who still lived.

  I didn't know it was possible.

  Though I wished for some sound to end this moment, I winced when my savior turned out to be the door closing. Twisting, I confirmed my anxious reality.

  Ellie was gone.

  Eyeing the ceiling, focusing on the dull ache of my injury, I commanded my sanity to return. I knew who I was—what I was. I didn't owe anything to Ellie.

  And if the one thing she wanted was for me to quit the only sensation that made me feel genuinely loved... even if it cut at my insides like a fucking dull razor...

  This was how it had to be.

  - Chapter Thirteen -

  Pike

  I was able to walk, though it hurt a bit. They didn't even bother with a cast, just told me to take it easy. Not knowing what 'take it easy' even meant, I caught the first flight back to LA the next morning.

  Now, dressed in cargo shorts and a red hoodie, I wandered down the sidewalk towards Better Beans. My old job brought back odd, but nostalgic memories. Sarah would be a relief to see, and she might even have some classic southern advice for my current predicament.

  Will she call me an idiot? Or say I made the right choice by pushing Ellie away?

  Honestly, I didn't know what I wanted to hear. Thinking about Ellie hurt worse than any physical pain ever had.

  It wasn't fair to drag her along, make her worry for me.

  My mother had left my father for similar reasons. Perhaps I really was destined to end up like him, in spite of trying to make my own path.

  Shuffling along the sidewalk, I tossed the hood back from my face and smiled up at the familiar green sign. Though it hadn't been very long, it was strange to me that the coffee shop looked no different. How could my whole life change so much, while this place remained untouched?

  A small white card in the bottom of the window caught my eye. Now Hiring. Huh. Had they not replaced me yet?

  The bell jingled, welcoming me with cheerful authority. Heavy spices and bitter coffee assaulted my nose. Once, I'd found the scent depressing. Now it had me grinning; the sight behind the counter had me grinning more.

  Sarah was facing away, rustling a drink together for the customer hovering nearby. Linking my hands behind my neck, I strolled up to the register, my voice low and rumbling. “I hear this place makes the best caramel latte.”

  She jerked upwards, spilling milk across the floor. Whipping around to face me, Sarah didn't—couldn't—hide her shock. “Pike? Is that—oh my goodness!” Shoving the drink-mix away, she launched across the counter, hugging me fiercely. “What the hell are you doing here!?”

  Beaming, I nodded behind me towards the entrance. “Word on the street is you're hiring.”

  “Oh, haha.” Scoffing, she let me go, ignoring how the few customers in the store were gawking at us. “Please. As if a big shot like you would ever want to work here again.”

  My smile twitched. Big shot. “Maybe I just prefer working for honest tips.”

  Pushing her wavy hair from her face, Sarah rolled her eyes. The man to her left cleared his throat. Waving at him quickly, she bent down, gathering up the drink she'd been finishing and handing it off. Once he'd taken it and left us there, she bent close, lowering her voice. “For real, though. I've seen you on TV, Pike. I'm kind of jealous, I bet your life has gotten crazy interesting now.”

  Deep in my gut, a worm of shame writhed. “Crazy about nails it.” I felt eyes on me, hot and intense. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted the people whispering, pointing. Were there more customers in here suddenly?

  “Pike,” Sarah said, pulling me back. “Why are you really here? Did you just want to come see how this place was holding up without you?”

  Putting my elbows on the counter, I chuckled quietly. “I really was the cornerstone of Better Beans.”

  Sarah wasn't convinced, the tilt of her lips said as much. Somehow, she was seeing through my facade. Behind us, the bell jingled—again and again. “Something happened,” she said evenly. “Something bad. Pike, tell me.”

  Sheepishly, I wiped at the side of my throat. “You were always good at seeing through me.” And here it was, what I'd been dreading and hoping for; a chance to just spill the tan
gle of thoughts that plagued me. But how the hell did I explain anything, when I wasn't sure what I was thinking or feeling?

  The jingling bell was giving me a headache.

  “Pike,” she whispered, eyes wide and shining.

  Breathing through my nose, I mumbled, “Have you ever pushed someone away because you knew you couldn't be what they needed?”

  Her mouth puckered in distaste. “Of course not.”

  “Because you're a better person than me,” I said cynically.

  “No, dummy.” Poking me in the forehead, she offered a gentle smile. “It's not about being a better person. It's about realizing you don't get to decide what's best for somebody else. Wouldn't that make you mad? Having someone abandon you because they thought it was easier on you?”

  A harsh ripple tightened my spine, rolling down into my chest. How had I not realized how egotistical I was being? I'd be pissed as anything if someone tried to 'save me' by walking away.

  Hanging my head, I let my awful, hollow imitation of laughter crawl free. “Why did I ever have the gall to call her an idiot? I'm the real fucking mess, here.” Ruffling my hair, I looked back at Sarah, ready to thank her.

  She was staring past me, gaping at something I couldn't see.

  Shifting, I gazed out over the crowd behind me. The tiny coffee shop had filled up, faces gleaming in a sea of chattering voices. Every pair of eyes was fixed on me.

  Shit.

  “It's him!” I didn't see who called those words out. Everyone was a blur, a mob that had one desire.

  “That's Pike Moss! Quick, take a picture of me with him!”

  “Oh my god I can't believe he's here!”

  “Stop pushing, I was here first!”

  “Pike! Pike! Hey, Pike!”

  Staring down a wall of strangers, I didn't feel the glory I should have. The building was cramped, I had no where to go. This place had become a cage, and in front of me, a starving cabal that was eager to devour me.

  Panic flooded my veins, the sour taste rising on my tongue. I have to get out of here! Fuck, I'd just wanted to get away for a little while. The world of fame was smothering me, my old life didn't fit into this new box.