Page 42 of Touched

The fuck did she say?

Fly? We’re about to fly?

Holy shit… it’s just like Peter Pan!

I’m about to become a Darling kid.

This is really about to happen.

My throat tightens with nerves, but I nod. Reaching out, I wrap my arms around her waist and hold on tightly. Smiling, she flicks her hand. One more huge burst of air pummels the crew on the other side of the warehouse and she mutters, “Hold on.”

Before I can say a word, she shoots into the air. We burst out of the open warehouse doors and head straight into the starlit sky so quickly I get dizzy. Her arm is wrapped around my shoulders as I lock my arms around her waist. The air caresses my face as we rise, and the beating of her wings fills my ears.

We stop, hovering above the port, and she looks into my eyes. Hers are still molten golden but no longer blazing. She smiles at me and my heart gallops within my chest.

She softly says, “Hi.”

I reply, “Hi.”

She chuckles. The sound is musical, dancing on the wind. “So, um… what now? Where can we go?”

Without even thinking about it, I retort, “My place. We’re going to my place.”

Following Callum’s command to land in an alley, we touch down, avoiding the dumpsters and what is most likely liquid, human waste on the cracked concrete. As we make contact with the ground, I pray to the gods nobody saw him. Essentially, flying through the air… by himself.

All this human interaction is new to me, and I am really just winging it.

No pun intended.

There has to be some kind of cloaking Glamor I can use on him so we can be free to be together without people thinking he’s talking to himself. Or soaring through the air. No more flying. That’s probably best. Though, it was kind of an emergency. And thank the gods it’s nighttime. Hopefully, if any humans saw, they’re intoxicated and will forget.

I’ll need to research some more.

Once we’re on the ground, my eyes widen as Callum abruptly bends at the waist while placing his hands on his knees. His breathing is erratic. I wait patiently while he calms. Before I can open my mouth to ask how he’s doing, I hear, “Hey, are you all right, man?”

We both turn to see a police officer passing by the alley.

Callum stands up straight, forces a smile, and puts a hand up in a casual wave. Leveling his breathing out, he says, “Yeah, I’m good. Just got dizzy for a sec.”

The young officer furrows his brow and walks toward us. “LeBlanc?”

“Yeah, hey… Jameson,” he replies. I don’t miss the way Callum’s gaze moved to the policeman’s nametag during the slight pause. “I’m good. Really.”

“Too many hurricanes?” he teases good-naturedly. While I appreciate the officer’s concern, regardless of the confusing hurricane comment, I wish he’d leave.

I don’t recall a mighty storm coming through here recently.

“No, just, ah, the heat,” Callum replies.

“Okay, then,” Jameson says. “If you’re sure?” He’s still looking at him with concern. “I can call the medics.”

Callum’s eyes widen before he vehemently shakes his head. “Absolutely not. I’m good, man. I promise.”

Nodding, he tips his hat at my beautiful man and says, “Alright, man. See you around,” and whistles a tune as he turns to leave the alley.

“Fuck,” Callum breathes heavily again. “Never flown before. Not even on an airplane. That was fuckin’ weird.”

Biting my lip in nervousness, I rub my hand along his muscular arm. “I’m sorry. I’ve… ah… never flown anyone before. I didn’t even think. I just wanted to get you out of there.”

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