Weightless

by Kandi Steiner

  My hands shook on the wheel. My breaths were labored. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as if I’d stolen the car we were driving. My core was tight, my legs tense, and I could feel myself on the brink of desire.

  Rhodes maneuvered his left arm from where it had been holding him up on the console and he gripped the bottom of the steering wheel. “Hit the cruise control.”

  I did as he said before snapping my hands right back into position. I was squirming in his hand, moans ripping from my throat.

  “You’re not going to come unless you let go.”

  Glancing at him through heavy eyelids, I blanched when I realized what he meant.

  “I can’t,” I started, but his thumb found my clit and I moaned instead of finishing my sentence.

  “Trust me. I’ve got the wheel. Let go, Natalie.”

  I hesitated, but slowly, my hands fell down the sides of the wheel. One gripped the door while the other rested on top of where his was between my thighs. Pushing him into me with more force, I ground my hips against his palm under mine, finding the perfect friction to send me spiraling. My eyes closed, my lips parted, and I fell. It was a release unlike any I’d had before — quick, electric, forbidden.

  Incredible.

  When I opened my eyes again, I jerked my hands back into place on the wheel, realizing Rhodes was only steering with his left hand. He held it steady, but my sated mind was still afraid of losing control.

  Rhodes only smirked, slowly removing his fingers before lifting them to his lips. My breath caught as he slid them inside his mouth, sucking my desire off his skin. I was still panting, my mind racing with what we’d just done.

  Leaning back in his seat, Rhodes fastened his seatbelt and didn’t say another word.

  Ten minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of LaRue’s, a small beach-front restaurant known for its high-end dining experience. Dale and Mom liked to eat there at least once a month, and usually while there was a special event or show. I was hoping to give Rhodes a more hands-on introduction.

  “We can’t eat here,” Rhodes said, shaking his head as I put the Rover in park. He was staring up at the restaurant logo with wide eyes. I straightened out the slightly wrinkled fabric of my dress, heart still racing.

  “We’re not just eating here.”

  Rhodes cocked his head, questioning.

  “We’re cooking here.”

  Before he could ask questions, I hopped out of the car and made my way toward the entrance. I tried to hide the smile on my face as he jogged to catch up to me just as the tall glass and mahogany door gently swung open.

  “Good evening, Miss Poxton,” the gentleman holding the door greeted. He was tall, with skin as dark as Willow’s and bright hazel eyes. “Always a pleasure to see you.”

  “And you, Marcus.”

  “This must be Mr. Rhodes.” Marcus extended his hand and Rhodes stared at it for a short moment before giving it a firm shake. “Our Executive Chef is ready for you in the kitchen. This way, please.”

  Marcus escorted us through the pleasantly crowded restaurant to the back kitchen. I watched Rhodes’ eyes as we passed each intricate section of the dining area. LaRue’s was famous for its various dining environments, from the cozy palace corner donned with rich reds and browns to the bright whites and blues of the outside beach-themed experience. Rhodes had so many firsts of mine, it was nice to finally get to experience a first of his.

  When Marcus led us through the swinging double doors, an entirely new atmosphere engulfed us. There were chefs running everywhere, flames burning high, orders being shouted. In a normal universe, I might have been alarmed, but in the current one with Rhodes’ wide eyes and curious smile, I was nothing but excited.

  “Ah! Miss Poxton!” Chef Karsak wiped his forehead with an off-white towel, tucking it in his back pocket just in time to reach out his hands for mine. He kissed them with a wide, toothy grin and I returned the smile. “It’s such an honor to have you in my house. Come, come,” he gestured to the stove he was just working. “Thank you, Marcus. I’ll take it from here.”

  “This is incredible,” Rhodes murmured, taking in the chaos of the kitchen. Chef Karsak smiled, folding his arms across his chest.

  “Isn’t it? Never gets old. I take it you must be Mr. Rhodes?” Again, Rhodes hesitated just a short moment before shaking his hand. Chef Karsak shouted out a few expletives at a chef across the kitchen before returning his eyes to Rhodes, still smiling. “I’m Joseph Karsak, the Executive Chef here at LaRue’s. Miss Poxton said over our phone call that you are quite the cook yourself. That right?”

  For the first time, Rhodes almost looked embarrassed. He cleared his throat and slightly nodded.

  “Brilliant. Let’s get started, Mr. Rhodes.” Chef Karsak clapped his hands together. He was slightly shorter than Rhodes, but it was easy to see Rhodes looked up to him, anyway. The two of them went to work, mixing and searing and tossing and baking. I helped out a little here and there, but for the most part, I just watched. It was fascinating seeing Rhodes in his element. He understood everything Chef Karsak said, while I, on the other hand, was just as confused as when I ordered from the menu. None of the cooking techniques or dish names made sense to me, but they were like a second language to Rhodes.

  I had only asked for an hour of Chef Karsak’s time, but the pair was getting along so well that we ended up staying until the last dish was prepared. It was comical at times, watching them work together, because they were such opposites. Chef Karsak had ashy blonde hair and dark chocolate eyes, a stark contrast to Rhodes’ dark hair and bright eyes. He shouted and cursed and was just generally a larger-than-life character, but Rhodes was quiet, focused, meticulous. Rhodes was tall and built, the kitchen tools almost looking too small for him since I was used to seeing him surrounded by weights, whereas Chef Karsak was shorter but lanky and almost perfectly matched to his kitchen. And where Chef Karsak seemed to do everything with neat precision, Rhodes had more of a sporadic style, though it was still controlled. The fire in his eyes was just as hot as that on the stoves and I knew he would eventually find a way to make this his life. He had to.

  When midnight rolled around, the rest of the chefs in the kitchen were still cleaning and prepping ingredients for the next day as Chef Karsak pulled Rhodes in for a manly hug and hard clap on the back.

  “You know, I think I might have learned a thing or two from you tonight,” he said through a grin.

  “This has been incredible.” Rhodes’ eyes found mine. “I don’t think I can thank you enough.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Chef Karsak kissed my cheeks and Rhodes and I made our way outside, but he stopped us one last time. “Listen, you go get your culinary arts degree, hone in on your skill and tighten up your methods, and you have a spot on my team.” Rhodes’ jaw dropped slightly, but Chef Karsak just smiled, handing him a business card. “Don’t waste any time. You need to be in the kitchen, Mr. Rhodes. It’s your home, and you’ve been away too long as it is.” He nodded to me once more. “Take care, Miss Poxton.”

  “Thank you again, Chef.”

  With one last wink, Chef Karsak disappeared behind the swinging doors, instructions flying from his mouth immediately. I led Rhodes out the back door of the restaurant and down to the beach, kicking off my sandals when we reached the sand. He still hadn’t said anything, so I slid my hand into his.

  “You’re quiet. Should I be scared?”

  Rhodes shook his head, a peaceful look on his face as he stared out at the moonlit waves. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t scowling, either. He just looked content. Pensive.

  “Did you at least have fun?”

  Rhodes stopped then, his hand still firmly grasping mine. My breath caught at the way the soft blue lighting of the night reflected in his eyes. “Are you kidding? Natalie, this is one of the best nights of my life, right behind the night you chose me outside of Willow’s house.” My heart jumped. “I still can’t wrap my head around what just happened.”r />
  “You were amazing to watch in there.”

  The left corner of his lips pulled into the faintest smile. “No one has ever called me Mr. Rhodes.” He shook his head, wetting his lips. “No one has ever shaken my hand like that. Like I mattered. Like I meant something.”

  I frowned. “You do matter, Rhodes.”

  His eyes gleamed. “I’m starting to believe you.”

  Tentatively, his hands found my hips. He pulled me closer, pressing his forehead to mine, and I threaded my arms around his neck, kissing him softly.

  “Can we stay for a while?”

  Pulling him down into the sand with me, I answered without words. We were close to the water’s edge, the waves gently rolling in just over the tops of my toes. Rhodes slipped off his shoes and joined me, and we sat in comfortable silence, our minds replaying the evening.

  I felt alive with Rhodes next to me in this state. He had changed so much since the beginning of the summer. I wanted to say it was like I was peeling back his layers, but the truth was, Rhodes didn’t work in that simple of a manner. I couldn’t just break down one wall and step easily through to the next. He was a constantly altering maze, a Rubik’s cube of complexity I wasn’t sure I would ever fully understand.

  But I knew with absolution that Rhodes was like the wet sand I tried so desperately to grasp that night. I could feel him, he was real, and he was slowly letting me mold him into how I’d seen him in my mind all along. But eventually, the moon would fade, the tide would recede, and the sand would dry beneath the heat of the sun, slipping effortlessly through my fingers.

  Still, I held on tight, anyway.

  That Friday at training, I felt like I was back with the Rhodes I met day one. He was quiet, broody, and he was on my ass like he had something to prove. I was already dripping in sweat and we were only forty-five minutes into our session.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked finally, starting on my third set of lunges.

  “Fine.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? We’re back to this?”

  “Back to what?” Rhodes sniffed, gently pushing down on my shoulders to force me lower. My legs shook and I gritted my teeth.

  “Rhodes.”

  He sighed, giving me the sign that I could stand and I exhaled with loud relief, shaking out my legs. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I just had a late night.”

  I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach dropped at his insinuation of a late night that I wasn’t a part of. “But we’re okay?”

  His brows bent over his intense emerald pools, but he nodded.

  I knew better than to push him, but still, his reflex moods bothered me. He wasn’t like a roller coaster, he was like a car crash — one that I felt like I’d have to live over and over again forever. I wanted him to stay the way he was at the beach on the Fourth of July, the way he was just two nights ago outside of LaRue’s. But those bright times were fleeting.

  I somehow managed to make it through the rest of the session without vomiting, but just barely. When I was mid-cooldown on the treadmill, my phone pinged in my gym bag.

  “Want me to get that for you?” Rhodes asked, wiping down his machine.

  “Yeah, it might be Dale.”

  Rhodes fished my phone out and the screen lit up again just as he handed it to me.

  With Mason’s name.

  His jaw ticked, his eyes taking on a dark forest green hue. Tossing his white towel over his shoulder, Rhodes made his way back to the office without another word. I groaned.

  “Wait, Rhodes,” I called out, ending my session and jogging after him.

  “Are you still fucking around with him?” Rhodes asked as soon as I shut the office door behind us. My mouth popped open.

  “Is that a serious question?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be? Your body is changing more every day, he’s clearly noticing, and the whole reason you ever walked into this gym was because of him. Makes perfect sense to me.”

  “Rhodes, I don’t want Mason. I chose you, remember?”

  “Yeah. Why is that exactly, Natalie?”

  Without warning, my fingers began to tremor, mirroring my unsteady heartbeat. Rhodes was looking at me like I’d betrayed him, and I had no idea why.

  I shook my head, confused. “What do you mean? I told you all this already, Rhodes. Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Well, I thought so, but I don’t know anymore.”

  “Don’t do this,” I pleaded, reaching out for him. He jerked his arm back. “Please. Talk to me.”

  “What are you hiding from me, Natalie?!” Rhodes pounded his fists on the desk and I jumped. His voice boomed with anger, but his eyes gleamed with fear. It was the strangest combination.

  I just stood there, dumbstruck, like his question was in a foreign language. What did he mean? I was nothing but open and honest with Rhodes.

  “Fuck!” he shouted, flipping a stack of papers. They fluttered to the ground and Rhodes ran his hands roughly over his head. He held them there for a moment before slowly reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small, folded piece of paper. He handed it to me without looking at it.

  Hesitantly, I took it from his grasp, unfolding it as if it were tied to an explosive. When I read the words written in neat script in the middle of the fold, my heart stopped.

  I read those five words slowly, then all at once, then one-by-one, until they didn’t make sense anymore. Not that they had to begin with. My brows knitted together and I lifted my eyes to Rhodes, dropped them back to the note, and lifted them again. His expression was unreadable.

  “What is this?”

  “I found it taped to my bike windshield when I left the gym last night.”

  “I,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I don’t understand.”

  Rhodes exhaled through his nose, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “If there’s something you’re not telling me—”

  “There’s not!” I cut him off, reaching for him again. He jerked away and my eyes blurred, lips trembling. “Rhodes, please, you have to believe me. I don’t know what this means.”

  He was quiet a moment, his jaw tense, his arms crossed. The sweat had dried on my skin and I was suddenly freezing. Rhodes wouldn’t look at me, but I could tell he was battling with what the note meant, too.

  Then it hit me.

  “God.” My hand found my forehead and I closed my eyes tight. “It’s Mason. It has to be.” When I opened my eyes to find Rhodes, he was already shaking his head. “No, listen to me. He told me you were bad for me when he pulled me to the side on the Fourth of July. He texted me a few days later asking if I’d thought about what he said. And he just texted me again asking me to call him.”

  “Natalie,” Rhodes argued, saying my name like a warning, but I didn’t give him the chance to finish the thought.

  “He’s jealous. And he’s an immature little boy. He’s playing a stupid game. Please, you have to believe me.”

  “I can’t.”

  I shook my head, my mouth still open, my hands extended toward him. I was so cold. Everything was so cold. “Why not?”

  Rhodes cracked his neck, bending over slightly and splaying his hands on the desk. The muscles in his arms tensed, and he stared at the wooden surface between his thumbs. When he glanced up at me from beneath his still furrowed brow, I waited for his answer. I never could have imagined the words that left his mouth next.

  “Because it’s my sister’s handwriting.”

  I convinced Rhodes to let me take the note home with me.

  There was something about it, something familiar, but I didn’t know what. He was hesitant at first, but given that I was its main subject, he agreed to let me study it for a while.

  The house felt emptier than usual that night. I was lying on the floor in the living room, staring up at the chandelier above our coffee table, replaying the scene at the gym. Rhodes let me take the note, and though I wanted him to believe me, I knew a part of him was still wary. How could he not be? The note h
ad a clear warning, one that I couldn’t begin to understand, and it was written in his sister’s handwriting.

  Rhodes held me after dropping the bomb about his sister, but I still felt a hesitance even with his arms around me. He was trying to figure it all out, and even though he might not have wanted to believe that I could hurt him, his basic instinct told him otherwise. I couldn’t blame him.

  My only suspect was Mason, but did he know about Rhodes’ sister? I guess everyone in the town did the year that it happened. Still, I couldn’t see him being that cruel to try to pull over an illusion that she wrote it. With him crossed off the list, I didn’t have any other ideas as to who could have written the note.

  Unless it was his sister.

  That possibility shook me to my core.

  If that were the case, that meant Lana was alive. Furthermore, it meant that she was alive and that she hated me, or at least wanted her brother to stay away from me.

  But why?

  Groaning, I grabbed a pillow from the couch and covered my face with it before tossing it to the side again. My head was spinning with no chance of finding steady ground anytime soon. Everything I thought I knew about Rhodes was back in limbo, in a place where I couldn’t be sure of anything.

  Yanking my phone off the charger, I thumbed through the contacts. I debated calling Willow, but it was Friday night and she was supposed to be at her first college party. Part of me ached to be there with her, part of me was selfish enough to wish she was home with me, instead. Mom and Dale were still up north and wouldn’t be back for a few more days. I could have called them, but they didn’t know about my relationship with Rhodes, so they couldn’t help, either.

  Sighing, I dropped my phone back to the floor and continued staring up at the ceiling. A loud knock at the front door woke me from my daydream a few minutes later and I reluctantly climbed to my feet. Padding over to the foyer, I peeked through the peephole, and I didn’t know how to feel when I saw him standing there.