From Air (Wildfire)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

JAYMES

My person.

Calvin Fitzgerald is my dream—the kind that doesn’t come true and ends with a pounding heart and an aching reality.

Our time together ends too quickly. He watches me create a copper-and-leather bracelet and matching earrings. We take his grandma for a walk, and I have the privilege of meeting Terry, her older man.

The following morning, Fitz jogs next to me while I ride my skateboard, and I’m the one who struggles to keep up.

“You’re such a show-off!” I giggle, pumping around a turn into a headwind.

He runs faster.

After I’m exhausted and he’s barely broken a sweat, we eat lunch at a rooftop café.

“Why do you suppose Maren never told me she saw your tattoo?” I ask, sipping my pink lemonade while watching him eat the rest of my lunch. Calvin consumes an enormous number of calories.

He chews, giving my question some thought. “I think she feels sorry for you, but she knows there’s no changing the situation. So why bring it up?”

“Why does she feel sorry for me?”

He shrugs. “She thinks you have strong feelings for me and knows I will only disappoint you. I’m a disappointment to everyone who invests time in getting to know me.”

He’s not a disappointment. He breaks my heart, but not in a conventional way.

“I think the only person you should worry about disappointing is yourself.”

He doesn’t respond.

Not at lunch.

Not for the rest of the night.

We skip dinner and fall into bed early to earn more roses.

“Would Edith be okay with me visiting her?” I ask, dressing the following morning.

Fitz glances up from packing his bag. “She’d probably like that.” He returns his attention to the bag, zipping it.

“I won’t ask about her past.”

About your past.

He shrugs. “She doesn’t remember anyway.”

“Does she ask about it?”

“Sometimes.” He tosses his bag by the door.

I shove my feet into my ankle boots. “So she must know about some of it.”

“She knows enough.”

Tucking in the front of my white blouse, I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been given a chance to live the rest of her life in peace. So I tell her things that are a little less awful.”

“You lie?”

“I’ve softened the hard truth.”

Does he know how badly I want to beg him for that hard truth? How difficult it is for me to bite my tongue? How much I want to nudge him for more? Staying on my side of the line is slowly killing me because he’s unknowingly making me fall irrevocably in love with him.

“Fitz, you can tell me anything. Okay? I won’t judge. I won’t push for more. I can be an idle listener if you ever need to let go of anything.”

“I let it go.” He crosses his arms—the opposite of letting anything go.

“Here.” I wrap the bracelet I made around his wrist. “It’s not a tissue rose, but it’s the best I can do.” After threading the button through the loop, I glance at him.

Tension eases from his body, and he finds a smile for me. “I’m glad I came.”

“You came a lot.”

He shakes his head despite his grin. “Perv.”

I laugh. “I’m glad you visited me. It was unexpected. Possibly the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

“That’s just sad for you.”

Oh, Fitz ... it’s not sad at all.

I rest my hands on his chest. “Take care. Okay?”

He nods several times. And it would be easier to keep my shit together if he didn’t slide his hand along my neck, fingers brushing my tattoo. My hand drifts from his chest to the side a few inches, over his tattoo.

We share a grin. I’d say a knowing grin, but I’m not sure I know anything anymore. Fitz took time away from what he loves the most to see me. He elicited help from Evette. Then he introduced me to his grandma. We’ve spent the better part of the past three days naked in my bed. And he seems obsessed with touching my tattoo.

I can’t even begin to understand the look in his eyes. It’s pure torture. I didn’t put that look there, but I feel like I bring it to the surface.

Emotion works its way into my throat, making it hard to swallow and nearly impossible to speak, so I clear it and find something lighter to talk about than the reality that he’s leaving. I don’t know what this weekend has meant to him. “I bet Mrs. Wilke will be thrilled to see you.”

“Yeah. Her nipples get pretty hard when I come home after being gone for so long.”

I hum. “Are you going to tell her about us?”

“I’m not sure yet. She’s never been that receptive to the suggestion of a threesome, so I don’t know how she’d handle hearing about us.”

We mirror each other’s shit-eating grins, but mine fades first. “In a strictly friendly way, I will miss you.”

“That’s disappointing. I will miss you in a strictly sexual way.”

With a dismissive smile, I open the door. “If you don’t get going, the only thing you’ll miss is your flight.”

His hands slide around my waist, hugging my back to his chest. His forehead rests on the crown of my head. No words. Just slow breaths.

My skin prickles with a flood of emotions that I can’t articulate. They have nowhere to go.

I wait.

And wait.

With each passing breath shared in silence, my heart cracks a little more. Aches a little deeper.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“For what,” he murmurs just before pressing his lips to my head.

“For whatever happened to your family.”

He stiffens for a moment. I’m sure this seems out of the blue because he knows I don’t know what happened. And that’s okay. As much as I want to crawl into his heart and take away whatever keeps him from feeling worthy of love, I’m okay with offering blind compassion.

“Thank you,” Fitz whispers, releasing me. He picks up his bag and struts to the exit without making eye contact again—a vanishing figure tugging my heartstrings.

“Calvin Fitzgerald?” I yell, wiping my tears before they escape.

He stops, but he doesn’t turn.

“If you were normal and didn’t have an awful past, do you think you could love me?” My fierce heart always trumps my controlled thoughts.

I’m not sure he heard me.

But then he continues toward the exit. “Jaymes, if I were normal, I’d love you enough. The problem is, I’m not normal, so I’d love you too much .”

Not one look back.

The door closes behind him. Another apartment door opens, and a woman steps out, glancing in my direction. Then she does a double take.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

I nod despite the flood of tears trailing down my cheeks.