Page 10 of Falcon

“But…”

“That’s my answer, Nor.”

***

It’s nearing midnight, and of course, I can’t sleep.

Sleep has always been something I’ve struggled with since I was a little kid. Even before the fire, which honestly, just made it worse. That day changed my life. I went from big brother to big brother, mom, and dad to Nora at the drop of a hat. It was the hardest yet most rewarding thing I’ve done thus far. The trials and tribulations of “parenthood” were difficult, but watching her succeed and grow into a smart, badass woman made it all worth it.

I flip and flop, stomach to back to side, trying to sleep, staring at the ceiling, staring at the wall, scrolling through social media, contemplate watching a porn flick on my phone and jacking off, but ultimately, I toss back the covers and climb from bed. Having a little blonde-haired beauty right next door certainly doesn’t help the situation. She hasn’t left my mind since I walked off her front porch, and that’s not the norm for me. I pride myself on being able compartmentalize the shit swirling in my brain.

The house is silent, Nora and Case called it a night with the dog a couple of hours ago, so I walk down into the kitchen and grab one of the beers, left over from dinner, from the fridge and head out to the back porch.

I can hear the crickets chirping and frogs croaking all around me as I sit on the back steps. It’s a sound I’m not used to. I’m not even used to seeing the stars in the sky. It’s not something that happens in Los Angeles, or in any city I travel to really. Nights are normally filled with car alarms, fighting, and police sirens.

I tilt my head back as I drink down a gulp of beer, staring up at the sky when I see some kind of light beam shine across from my left. I follow it over until I see it’s coming from a newly switched on light shining through the window of the house next door.

Faith’s house.

Faith Morgan is a conundrum to me, even after only talking to her for five minutes. She seemed to be this perfect mix of guarded and curious. Two things that shouldn’t blend but were written all over her face…and I’m being a mega fucking creep right now by staring at her through her window.

She doesn’t know she can be seen. I should look away, I really should, but she’s doing yoga. In her window.

She’s stretching, bending, twisting, and contorting, wearing only tight black leggings and a pale purple sports bra, as if she is teasing me and only me on purpose, even though she has no idea I’m watching. Her blonde hair is twisted up into a bun so it’s out of her face, revealing the long line of her neck. She really is a beautiful woman. So beautiful I’m noticing things I never have before…like how perfect her shoulders are and how delicate the curves of her hips are.

I don’t even know her, but I want to. I want to know what her favorite movie is and if she prefers chocolate or vanilla. Does she like TV or is she a book person? I just want to talk to her. To see who she is for real. I want to figure out where the tattoo I caught a peek of on her thigh begins and ends. All of this after one, unplanned interaction. Christ, I’m fucked.

She changes her position to one in which she is standing with her arms stretched above her head. The houses are so close together I can see her chest rising and falling with each breath she takes. I unconsciously find myself matching in breaths. In and out. In and out. It’s like the air around me goes silent, and she’s the only thing in my orbit.

She’s not hot in the traditional sense of the word. Women on the West Coast are hot, and fine for an evening or two, but this girl, she’s stunningly beautiful. Gorgeous in a take her home, impregnate her, then introduce her to your family kind of way.

Whoa, whoa. Who am I right now?

I stand and move to the far end of the back porch to get a closer look, but when I do, she turns her face quickly toward the window, locking eyes with me.

Fuck!

I duck down, hoping like hell she didn’t see me leering at her like the lunatic I clearly am. I pause for a beat then slowly peek over the rail, risking a glance to see if she’s still there, but when I catch a clear view of the window, it’s completely empty.

She’s gone.

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