Page 30 of Stunts and Sparks

Heather tried to remind herself that Cole just didn’t understand what it was like to feel guilty that someone was worrying for you, and how powerful the urge was to ease their minds, especially if the person worrying was someone you loved. He hadn’t even given anyone’s phone number to the police.

“Why didn’t you have any numbers to give to the police when they asked?” The question was out of the blue, for sure, but Heather was feeling comfortable enough around Cole to allow herself to be a little pushy. “Don’t you have any friends or family?”

“None that would miss me too much,” he answered. “My family doesn’t do long-distance relationships, and I guess that wasn’t something they were willing to change when I moved out of the state. They never call me. I never call them. I could be dead for weeks and they wouldn’t notice, so there was really no need to trouble them with my current situation.”

Heather finished her last tater tot and crumpled up the paper bag they had come in. “Doesn’t that get kind of lonely, though?”

“It’s better than the alternative,” he said with a shrug. “When I was serving, there was this feeling that anyone could go at any time. Maybe they’d be moved somewhere else. Maybe we would go to war. I always knew if we saw combat that it would be better not to get too attached to anyone. I’m loyal to them, just like they are to me. Kevin is a friend from those days. But he’s not going to freak out if he doesn’t hear from me, and I can go years without hearing from him. It’s just a safer way to get attached, I guess. If you don’t miss someone, you can’t be heartbroken by losing them. Because you never had them in the first place.” He turnedto her, apparently aware how strange his philosophy sounded. “Does that make any sense at all?”

“I guess.” Heather stared up at the sky and thought a moment. “Is that how you’re going to feel about me, though? Because I don’t do well in relationships where I go a long time without talking to the people I love. I prefer to get used to someone being around. I like to miss people when they’re gone. It means they’re important to me. That’s how I feel about it anyway.”

Cole leaned over and kissed her, quickly at first and then more deeply before he answered. “You’re the exception,” he said. “You will always be the exception.”

CHAPTER 15

HEATHER

Heather sat back in the bed of the pickup truck, watching the stars above and sipping a lukewarm beer that Cole had bought for them. Something about the environment made the beer taste better than Heather thought it would have otherwise. Or maybe it was just the company. Cole sat close to her and put an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him.

“So,” Heather said when she was comfortable. “Your big struggle is hyper-independence, is it?”

“I guess you could say that.” He sipped his beer and leaned his head against the top of hers. “And yours is hyper-caution, right?”

She scoffed. “If you could call caution a flaw.”

He shrugged. “Risk aversion is often considered a hurdle to overcome. It’s tricky to get ahead when you’re always afraid of the consequences. Advancement requires courage.”

“Are you calling me cowardly?” She pulled back to glare at him.

“Not necessarily,” he said with a playful nudge. “But I do wonder if there’s something behind it. Like at the camp. You hurt your wrist, and it wasn’t as bad as you thought it was. You panicked for no good reason. I get it to some degree, but I also felt like your reaction was… a lot.” He cocked his head and smiled at her. “In life, you just can’t always prevent bad things from happening to you. Sometimes, you’re going to get hurt, especially in a risky profession like ours. What I don’t understand is why you even got into the job if you didn’t enjoy the thrill of danger just a little bit. Surely, you didn’t think it was going to be a physically safe career.”

“I got into the job because I knew I’d be good at it.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “But you’re probably right that I’m overcautious.” She sighed and leaned back against him in preparation. This story was difficult to tell, but he had opened up about himself, so she felt she should probably do the same. It was only fair.

“I was a precocious kid,” she began. “Even when I was five years old, I knew what I wanted to do when I grew up. I had seen these gymnasts in the Olympics on television, and I was just in love with the sport. I told my mom I was going to be a gymnast when I grew up, and she was always one to nurture my dreams. So, I started early, and I worked so hard. I gave up everything for that stupid dream.”

Cole cut in. “It wasn’t stupid. No dream is stupid.”

Heather sighed and half agreed with him. “Not at first it wasn’t. But there are some dreams that can be taken from you so easily. One stupid mistake, and it’s over. I had given up getting top marks, any after-school activities that weren’t training to be a gymnast, and any kind of social life, including dating, for the most part. And I was good. I knew I was good. I also knew I couldbe better, but I always understood that I was in the running, that I stood a chance. That’s not something everyone has, you know? But I had it.” It hurt to remember this specific loss, but she wanted to let Cole understand. She was ready to begin a real relationship with him, one in which they both communicated and were vulnerable together because they both felt safe.

Hesitantly, she continued her story. “Then one stupid day, on one stupid, intermediate-level move, I forgot to pivot. It was like my brain and my muscles didn’t quite match up for a split second. I twisted and fell, and the pain was unbearable. I can’t even express how much it hurt because I blocked it out somehow. All I remember was screaming. In the moment, everything was pain, and I didn’t really understand what had happened, the consequences of it. But after I had all my X-rays and pain management, and I was ready to hear my prognosis, the doctor explained that my injury would require surgical intervention.”

Heather gulped and wiped away a couple tears before they could fall. “After the surgery, they told me that my dreams were dead. I would never be able to compete as a gymnast professionally. It was even in question whether I could continue it as a hobby. If I worsened my injury, I could lose even more. Being a stunt double was the last job I thought I could get with all the training I had done in my gymnast career, if it can even be called that. If I couldn’t use the years I’d put in, then doesn’t that mean they were wasted?”

“I don’t think they would be wasted,” Cole interjected.

“I do,” she said. “Because I could have spent years getting good at something else, but I didn’t. I did gymnastics instead. So, this is my way to make my life make sense. And if I injure myself again, and for some reason, I can’t even be a stunt doubleanymore, I won’t even know what all those years of work were for.” She took a deep breath and admitted, “So it scares me.”

“It shouldn’t.” Cole turned to look her in the eye as he spoke to her. “Every single challenge you take on in your life builds character. Don’t roll your eyes about that now. It’s something I learned in the military. It’s all about strength building. Do you have any idea how many pushups we had to do every morning? And do you think there would ever be a war where the ability to do a huge amount of pushups would make any kind of difference? No. The point of doing them was to gain strength — not just physical strength, which obviously helps, but strength of character, too. It helps to know that when things get hard, if you just keep going, you’ll push through. What you learned to do was work hard to meet a goal and make your dreams come true. That’s a skill you can take into any profession.” He took a moment to look her up and down in a very obvious way. “And it did you a few favors as far as your body is concerned, anyway.”

Heather slapped his knee and leaned back again. “I guess that’s all I really needed then — a super sexy body to get me through.”

“Didn’t hurt,” Cole said. “You have to maintain a certain physicality to resemble the stars you’re doubling for, don’t you? Sometimes, great physical shape is the right quality for a job. And I mean, if you ever did lose this job, you could go into a… certain type of dancing and make a killing.”

This time she sat up to slap him.

“What?” he protested. “I’m just saying you’re nice to look at. Your training also probably gave you your winning personality.”

“Is that sarcastic?” She glared.

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