Page 5 of Fighting Gravity

She pulled out her phone to search for “how to change a tire” videos when a semitruck towing a trailer slowed and then stopped in front of her car. Oh, God. A trucker.No, no, no.A side-of-highway trucker situation was the stuff of horror movies. Or bad porn.

The man who hopped out of the cab looked exactly like she imagined he would. He was small and thin everywhere except his belly. She could see even from yards away that his gray T-shirt, advertising a U-fish business, was covered in stains. The hat matched. He really liked Jim’s Bait and U-Fish. She felt her pulse jump in her neck. She didn’t know this man. She barely trusted the men she knew.

Another semi roared by, billowing her skirt around her legs. She held the fabric down with a squeak. This day was getting worse by the second.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The man’s drawl was distinctly Southern. “You look like you need some assistance.”

Rosie pressed her lips together and prepared to tell him she was fine, no help needed, but he moved right into her bubble and started rummaging around her trunk. He smelled better than expected, like new car air freshener, and he was humming, which calmed her racing heart. Serial killers wouldn’t help and hum while doing it, would they?

She realized she recognized the song. “Is that…Selena Gomez?”

A bright smile lit his face. “No idea. My granddaughter was just singing it to me on the phone. She’s five.”

The tightness in her chest loosened.

He hoisted the spare tire and all accessories out of the trunk and crouched on the ground. Guilt filled her. Regret that she’d judged him so harshly.Not all men are out to get you, she reminded herself.

“Do you have time to help me? I’m sure I can figure out how to do this.”

He looked her up and down. She was still clutching her skirt to her legs. He chuckled, but he didn’t sound unkind. “I’ll be done by the time you finish watching one video.”

“How did you know I was going to look for a video?”

He shrugged, already pumping the jack. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Who ya gonna call?”

She winced, but he didn’t make any menacing moves, unless grabbing the tire iron while humming counted. Fifteen minutes later, he was done. She knew his granddaughter’s name and he knew about her interview.

“Get a new tire as soon as you can. There’s a tire shop in Victory called Tiny’s. They’ll take care of you.” He’d put all the tools away and placed the shredded tire on a towel he’d given her. He shut the hatch and patted the back of the car.

Rosie exhaled. She really needed to work on trusting people until they gave her a reason not to. Sometimes she forgot she’d only been betrayed by one—no, two—people. Her sister still counted, addiction or no.

She stuck her hand out. “David, thanks so much for helping me.”

His smile lit up his tan, sun-wrinkled face. He shook his head. “Don’t wanna get you dirty, sweetheart. Good luck at your interview. You’re gonna get it.”

An hour and many Selena Gomez songs later, she pulled up at OrbitAll. The hangar was impressively massive. The building had shape and form, not just four rectangular walls like she’d expected. Curving organically like a comma, or an arm of a spiral galaxy, she could see that intention had gone into the facility’s design.

Inside, a smiling receptionist named Luz rose to greet her warmly. “You must be Rosie. I’ll call and see where Mister Tate is. I know he’s not in his office.” She tipped her chin to the space behind reception. A wall of windows showed an office with another bank of windows that looked out onto the action inside the hangar.

“The hangar,” Luz said, echoing her thoughts as she set the phone back in its receiver. “I’ll take you. Do you want water? Coffee?”

“No, thanks.” Nerves had taken over again. Happy ones. Elle was here. So was possibility.

“How was the drive from San Diego?” Luz inquired as they moved through a short hallway adjacent to Tate’s office and into the cavernous hangar.

The flat tire story died on her lips.

There was a spaceship not a hundred yards away. A freakingspaceship. The mothership that carried it aloft wasn’t much farther. The breathwhooshedfrom her lungs.

Luz chuckled. “That’s the standard reaction.”

She followed the receptionist, unable to keep her head from moving in every direction. The hangar stretched upward three stories. Doors and windows along the periphery all faced the open center of the hangar. Offices, most likely, and conference rooms. A building oriented around the action. And there were so many people, more people than she’d seen on the streets of Victory as she drove in.

She brought her eyes back down when she heard a familiar squeal. She registered Elle’s joyous face milliseconds before her friend’s body crashed into hers in a hug. She gasped, but not from the unexpected contact. Time slowed as her senses took over. She didn’t just see the man standing behind Elle; she experienced him.

Goosebumps sprouted on her skin. Her heart slammed in her chest so forcefully that she was surprised she hadn’t been knocked backward. She swore she could taste him, smell him, though he was nowhere near her. She could feel his rough, gold-speckled stubble on the pads of her fingers. Unbidden, she felt the weight of his stocky, muscular frame on top of her, saw his sweat-glazed skin melded with her own. She heard his whispered words in the dark.

As Elle let her go, Rosie felt three emotions at once: fear, the pull of aqua eyes that saw into her soul, and want unlike any she’d known.

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