Page 32 of Fly Back to Me
I need to know.
And I know exactly what will confirm the truth.
My palm yanks the handle of the front door to the brewery, swinging it open before stepping inside. I swallow thickly, my skin heating with the acceleration of my heartbeat.
My eyes cautiously wander to my target, landing on Cade pouring beer from the tap handles. But before I continue the mission, a delicate palm wraps around my arm to twirl me around.
“What the hell is going on?” Lauren whispers harshly, the lines of her forehead boldened from utter bewilderment.
“Lauren,please,” I beg through my teeth. “I’ll explain later, just give me a minute.”
I snap back into action, my legs finally carrying me to the end of the bar. My body squeezes between two people, and Cade’s palms are glued to the bar top as he dives into conversation with his patrons. Like a knee-jerk reflex, my eyes dart down to his left hand splayed on the polished surface, studying each finger.
They’re all bare.
Each finger free of any jewelry.
My throat rolls, realizing his right hand is hidden behind his side-profile. It feels intentional. Like whatever brought me to this brewery tonight, whatever drew me to his motorcycle, and whatever made me walk through the doors of The Grind, was preparing me for this moment.
This moment that’s about to alter everything for me.
All noise suctions out as I slowly venture my way back. My eyes catch moving mouths and clinking glasses, but their sounds fall on deaf ears. Instead, there’s only a single thud that ricochets off the reclaimed brick.
My heart beats like a bass drum. Profound and booming, as if it’s in my throat. Restricting any air from entering my lungs or even the shallowest breath from escaping.
With every tentative step forward, my belly coils a knot tighter. Time gradually slows, my vision tunneling to Cade as I wander behind the string of people bordering the bar.
His wide shoulders bounce gently as a perfect, white grin decorates his rugged jaw. Those blue-gray depths glimmer under the warm lighting, and his mouth tosses back a humorous remark to the customer sitting in front of him. Then my gaze falls to the way his corded forearms lean on the bar top, that natural masculinity now magnified a trillion times over.
And the longer I stare, the more layers I peel off his exterior, uncovering the man behind the one I thought I knew.
The man I thought I had all figured out since this morning.
I discreetly jam myself between the bodies at the other end of the bar, inhaling through parted lips. But just as my vision finds his right palm on the counter, he turns to retrieve a beer glass from the shelf behind him.
My stare burns into him, branding every inch of movement. He spins back around, his tattooed hand grabbing the tap handle to pour the amber liquid into the cup. On cue, my eyes stitch to his hand covering the lever, trailing to the base of his middle finger.
Until they meet stainless-steel metal.
The image of the tarnished wings begs me to focus in, and I strip the last layer of his outer shell. A reserved breath extracts from my parted lips, the knot in my stomach wound so tightly that I feel I may double over any second. Because when the familiar ridges of the overlapping wings reveal themselves, his final layer falls to the floor.
And what I find isn’t visible to anyone else but me.
I’m the only one who trulyknows it.
His heart.
And I believe I’ve just staked my claim.
Chapter 14
Olivia
Lauren’s voice cuts through the rev of the tires. “What are you going to do?”
My elbow props on the windowsill of the passenger side, palm cradling the side of my head. I catch the dim glow of each streetlight we pass, my voice low when I answer, “I don’t know.”
“He kept your feather,” she assures. “Not only that, but he hangs it on his motorcycle. Maybe he didn’t want to meet you then, but it certainly seems like he’s thinking about you now.”
