On Broken Wings

by Chanel Cleeton

  What was the point of putting yourself out there, of taking a risk, of rolling the die if you faced such unbeatable odds, if the house always won? Better to play it safe, to hold everything inside, than let love in and end up with a broken heart and a wound that wouldn’t heal.

  It was hard being around other people, normal people, people who didn’t walk around with a gaping hole in their chest where their heart used to be. Easy got it. I didn’t have to pretend with him, didn’t have to be someone I wasn’t anymore. He’d seen the flash of pain when we were at Noah and Jordan’s, and I loved him because I didn’t have to explain, he’d just understood, and been there for me when I’d needed it. There were very few people who wanted to be around you when you were at your worst; that was Easy for me. I was never more myself than I was with him.

  He grabbed the remote, flipping channels, and told me to tell him to stop whenever I found something I wanted to watch.

  We finally settled on the same TV show we’d watched before, the routine of it making me smile, and I wrapped my arm around his waist, leaning my head against his chest. He felt good—solid—his heart beating steadily beneath me. He smelled good, too—like he’d just gotten out of the shower. The rest of the tension simply drained out of me, an overwhelming sense of contentment filling me.

  “This is nice,” I murmured, the sound muffled against his shirt-covered pec.

  “Mmm hmm.” His fingers stroked my hair, skimming along my scalp.

  God, that was amazing. I lay there while he held me tight, playing with my hair, each touch melting me. He was so sweet when he wasn’t the guy who walked around full of swagger, when he was the version of himself he was with me. I liked the other guy—he was fun to hang around with, guaranteed to make you smile and laugh, but this guy was something else entirely. I loved this guy. He was so sweet, I ached.

  We watched TV until the food came, and Easy got up to pay the deliveryman. He returned a minute later with paper plates and pizza.

  He grinned, his expression sheepish. “Sorry. Single guy. I forgot to run the dishwasher.”

  I laughed. “No worries.”

  We ate in silence, nursing our beers, the show playing in the background. When we’d finished, he took everything to the kitchen and sat back down next to me on the couch.

  We shifted positions, until I was lying across him again, our limbs tangled.

  And promptly fell asleep.

  * * *

  I woke sometime in the middle of the night, sprawled across something big and hard. For a moment I thought I was dreaming, my mind struggling to catch up, and then my eyes adjusted to the dark, a crack of moonlight filtering in through the blinds, and I realized I was lying on top of Easy.

  I sat up, gently untangling myself from his body, trying not to wake him, my heart pounding. We’d left the TV on and the glow from the set was enough that I paused, unable to resist staring at the sight that was Easy sleeping before me. He looked softer in sleep, younger . . . more human, less sex god . . . more like the sweet version he was with me.

  My breath hitched.

  I reached out, my hand hovering in midair, the fog of sleep still covering me, my fingers twitching. Later I told myself it was the hair—lustrous and thick—that practically screamed, “Pet me.” I closed the distance between us, not sure what I was doing, but unable to resist.

  My knuckles grazed his skin, and then the tips of my fingers threaded through his hair as my heart skipped and stuttered in my chest.

  A voice inside me screamed—

  What are you doing?

  Easy sighed in his sleep as I stroked his forehead, and something tumbled inside me—a boulder rolling off a cliff. My hand stilled, my entire body frozen as I waited to see if he’d wake up.

  He didn’t.

  I should go. This felt like a line I was crossing, somewhere outside the bounds of normal friend behavior.

  There was that voice again—

  What the hell is wrong with you?

  Moments passed, but I didn’t move, didn’t get off the couch. Didn’t stop touching him.

  I didn’t want to leave.

  I wanted to curl back around him and fall asleep again, enjoying the kind of deep sleep that didn’t bring bad dreams and didn’t have me tossing and turning. I wanted the weight of his body next to me, giving me something to hold on to.

  And that freaked me the fuck out.

  Because I didn’t feel that way about Jordan, or Noah, or Thor, or any of my other friends. They’d been there for me after Michael died, but I hadn’t leaned on them, hadn’t found a place where I wanted to settle.

  Easy was different and I wasn’t sure why.

  I pulled my hand back, balling my fingers into a fist, sliding off the couch, trying not to wake him, pretty sure I couldn’t handle facing him right now. I felt naked, open, raw, as though I’d let him in somewhere I shouldn’t have, like something had shifted in an already fucked-up world and now when I reached for something—someone—to hold on to, I came up empty. Because suddenly, I didn’t trust Easy—or more accurately, I didn’t trust the way Easy made me feel—the need and the unmistakable ache at the possibility of him being yanked away from me, if one day he took off and didn’t come home.

  I wanted to hold on to him, and if life had taught me anything, it was that the things you clutched to your chest were the first things to be ripped away from you.

  SEVEN

  EASY

  How’s your week going?

  I hit “Send” on the text, staring at the screen, waiting for Dani to respond, my gaze glued to the little message box on my phone.

  Dani had left at some point in the middle of the night, after we’d fallen asleep together, and I’d woken up the next morning, my body stiff and my heart sore. The truth was, us falling asleep together hadn’t exactly been accidental. I’d watched her eyelids flutter, had heard the heavy sound of her breathing as she slept on, and instead of waking her and moving her, I’d been all too happy to lay there with her in my arms, indulging in a fantasy I’d had for years, only to fall asleep myself and wake to an emptiness I couldn’t erase.

  That was four days ago. I hadn’t heard from her since.

  Did we take things too far? Had I freaked her out? It had felt so good to have her in my arms, and I’d thought she needed it, wanted it, but now I worried we’d crossed an invisible line she regretted.

  My phone pinged. I stared at the words across the screen, my heartbeat picking up as I offered a silent prayer of gratitude to the heavens.

  Good. You?

  It wasn’t much, but it was everything. My fingers shook a bit as I typed my reply.

  Busy with work. Getting ready for the deployment. Flying my ass off.

  I waited a beat, and then sent another text.

  Thor was talking about going boating this weekend. Becca will be there. Want to come?

  It was one of my last weekends before we left for the deployment, and I wanted to spend it with Dani.

  Sounds fun. I’m in.

  Thank God. My fingers flew over the keys as my heart raced, my lips curving into a broad smile.

  I can pick you up Saturday at eight in the morning.

  She texted back.

  Sounds good. See you then.

  * * *

  The week flew by in a blur of briefs as we geared up for the squadron to head to Afghanistan. The work kept me busy, and more importantly, kept me from obsessing about Dani. I drove to her house Saturday morning, two cups of coffee sitting in the console next to me, a carton of donuts on the passenger seat. I had a cooler full of beer in the trunk, gorgeous weather, and I was spending the day on the lake with some of my favorite people—and my favorite girl. I couldn’t have asked for a better deployment send-off.

  I pulled into her driveway, and before I could kill the engine, she bounded out of
the house, dressed in a pair of white denim cutoffs and a sheer white long-sleeved top that flowed around her in the breeze. Her hair was back in a long braid, a pair of gold aviators on her face.

  I didn’t bother fighting the smile that took over my face as I got out of the car and grabbed the canvas bags from her hands. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She smelled like suntan lotion and her usual perfume.

  “Morning.”

  “Morning,” she echoed with a smile.

  “Why do you always smell like apples?” I asked.

  She tilted her head. “Apples?”

  “Yeah. You always make me think of pie.”

  She grinned, her cheeks going a little pink, her lopsided smile tugging at my heart. “I use apple-scented body wash and shampoo. I’m surprised you noticed.”

  She had a freckle below her right knee, was allergic to pears, and she was right-handed, but held her fork in her left hand.

  I’d noticed.

  Whatever worries I’d had that things would be uncomfortable between us fell away. The day was too beautiful for things to be awkward, and she seemed to be looking forward to it as much as I was. I walked to the backseat and dropped off her bags while she slid into the passenger side, grabbing the donuts. I joined her, putting the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway.

  “Did you get—”

  “Iced with sprinkles,” I answered with a smile.

  She grinned. “You’re the best.”

  It was seriously adorable that her donut of choice was a favorite among the under-twelve set. I’d gone one step further and bought pink frosted donuts with little heart-shaped sprinkles. I’d probably abdicated my balls somewhere along the way, but I honestly didn’t give a fuck.

  Dani was happy; I was happy.

  She opened the box, a hum of pleasure escaping her lips. I might have abdicated my balls, but my dick still grew hard at the thought of hearing a sound like that while I thrust into her, her nails digging into my skin, legs hooked around my waist . . .

  Fuck.

  “I got coffee, too. Hazelnut,” I added, my voice strangled as I adjusted in my seat.

  “Seriously. How do you always know all my favorite things?”

  I shrugged, more than a little embarrassed and still more than a little aroused. “I pay attention.”

  She reached out and squeezed my hand, her palm cool against mine, her skin like silk.

  I shifted in my seat.

  “It’s really sweet. And I appreciate it. More than you’ll ever know.”

  I could actually feel my cheeks heating. The guys would totally give me shit if they saw this. And yet . . .

  I snuck a peek at her face.

  Yeah, still no fucks to give.

  I turned the radio up as we pulled out of her neighborhood, switching to a classic rock station. “Jack & Diane” came on over the speakers, the loud beat hitting us, the lyrics putting another smile on my face.

  Perfect.

  The sun shone bright in the sky, the air still breezy and cool. Perfect fucking day.

  “Windows down okay?” I asked her.

  She nodded.

  I opened the windows and sunroof, grinning when she turned her face to the open air, her braid blowing crazily in the wind. She looked a decade younger, the sadness that cloaked her cast off for the moment.

  As much as I’d wanted today, she’d needed it. She’d always had so much responsibility on her shoulders as Joker’s wife—the need to navigate the world of Air Force politics as his wife, to be there for everyone in the squadron when they required it, to weather the ups and downs and daily stresses of being a military spouse. The past year had been hell in an entirely different way. It was good to see her taking care of herself and enjoying life. She looked so happy, and it was the best feeling in the world to play some small role in that.

  It was a trek to the lake, but the time flew by as we drove with the radio blaring, singing along to the classic rock songs that came on. I was a terrible singer, Dani only marginally better, but neither one of us cared. We joked around, mixing up the lyrics and singing off-key with gusto. The more time I spent with her, the more the nerves disappeared, the more tension gave way to the comfort that had always existed between us, despite whatever feelings got in the way.

  We met up with Thor and Becca at a gas station a few miles away from the lake and caravanned over in a line of vehicles. The group had grown when people heard about our plan to go boating, and there were eight of us total in two boats. Thor brought his, pulling it behind his truck, and Merlin brought his—a flashy boat that looked wicked fast to ski off of.

  We made it to the lake a few minutes later, parking the cars and loading all the food and beer on the two boats in preparation to launch them. When I turned back to the parking spot—

  Holy fucking hell.

  Dani was deep in conversation with Becca, dressed in a bright blue bikini that showed more of Dani than I’d ever seen before . . . and there was a lot of good stuff to see. I told myself to look away, honestly I did, but my eyes didn’t get the memo. My gaze drifted from the curve of her tits—the perfect size to fit in the palm of my hand—to her tiny waist, down past her hips, to her long, slim legs and the freckle near her knee that I could barely make out from here.

  I was instantly hard, fantasizing about reaching out and tugging on those ties, letting the triangle top fall, cupping her tits in my hands, rubbing my thumbs across her pretty nipples, bending down, taking one into my mouth, running my tongue over her . . .

  Fuck.

  I prayed my swim trunks were baggy enough to hide my erection, that my tongue wasn’t hanging out of my mouth, that I didn’t look like a horny virgin, even if I felt like one.

  Becca had an amused smile on her face, and Thor was outright fucking smirking, so I doubted I’d fooled anyone.

  “Dude.”

  “Not a fucking word,” I muttered to Thor.

  He shook his head, that same stupid smirk playing at his lips.

  I left him there, heading toward Becca and Dani. I made a concerted effort to look at anything but Dani.

  “Do you have everything you need?” I asked her.

  “Yep.”

  “Sunscreen?”

  She grinned. “Yes, Mom. I’m all lathered up.”

  Jesus.

  There were so many places my mind could go with that one, but I fought the good fight. Mostly.

  “Do you have a hat?”

  “No hat. I meant to bring one, but I left it on the counter.”

  I took my baseball cap off and reached over, setting it on her head, tugging the bill down so it covered her brow.

  Fuck, she was cute.

  Dani tipped her head up at me, a smile playing on her pink, glossy lips. “What about you? Now you’ll burn.”

  I put my arm next to hers, my skin a golden tan against her pale coloring.

  She grinned. “Point taken, Malibu Barbie.”

  I laughed. “I think you mean Malibu Ken.”

  “Touché.”

  God, she was adorable when she gave me shit. I couldn’t resist. I pulled her into my arms, reaching out and tugging on the cap, enfolding her in a quick hug. She leaned into me, her breasts brushing against my side, her body warm from the sun, her skin smooth.

  Thor and Becca were watching us, but I didn’t have it in me to care.

  “Ready?” I asked, my throat tight.

  Dani smiled up at me. “Yep.”

  “Okay, I’m going to go help them launch the other boat. Are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

  “I’m good, but thanks.”

  I left her there to go chat with the guys in the other boat, and then I helped Thor get us launched.

  Dani and I ended up with Thor and Becca. The girls sat in
the back of the boat chatting while Thor drove. I relaxed in the seat next to him, a bottle of beer dangling between my fingers and the Eagles playing over the boat’s stereo speakers.

  Thor glanced back at Becca and Dani deep in conversation, and then turned to me, his voice low.

  “Okay, give. What’s going on between the two of you?”

  I took a long pull of the beer, wishing I could avoid this conversation. For all we were badasses in the sky, we gossiped like nobody’s business. Then again, when you lived in a world as small as ours, privacy and boundaries didn’t really exist. It was a tight, incestuous community and little was off-limits.

  “We’re friends.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Good friends,” I amended.

  The hum of the motor mixed with the song streaming from the stereo, filling the silence between us.

  I lifted the bottle of beer to my mouth—

  “She’s different with you now.”

  My hand froze in midair. My heart thumped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “She looks at you,” Thor answered.

  Suddenly, my throat felt really fucking dry.

  “She watches you,” he continued. “That shit with the hat? Be careful with her.”

  I barely heard his words over the hammering in my heart. I tried to formulate a response, but I couldn’t make my lips move, so instead I sat there like an idiot, trying to fight the hope his words inspired. I’d always been good with women, could read when a woman wanted me, but I might as well have been robbed of all my senses when it came to Dani. I had no clue what she thought, what she wanted. We were close, she enjoyed being around me, but she’d always felt that way, and she’d definitely never seen me as anything other than a friend when she was married.

  I couldn’t feel the shift Thor described, unless you counted that we were spending more time together now. And the thing was, there was absolutely no way I could make a move. She still wore her wedding rings, still grieved, and the last thing I wanted to do was take advantage of her when she was vulnerable. Besides, if she wasn’t interested in me, if she really did see me as a brother, as one of her husband’s closest friends—Jesus—then there was no way I was going to risk our friendship by hitting on her. I didn’t want to lose her, and I’d rather have this, even when it was fucking torture, than have nothing at all.