Page 99 of Fly Back to Me
My belly relaxes, and I sift a hand through my locks as I stand. I pad along the carpeted floor, rounding the end of the bed until a Post-it note snags my vision.
There’s a neon note laying on top of a folded flannel.
Not sure if you’re a morning person, but the lake is a great view at this hour.
Maybe not as great as you in my bed, but we can’t win them all sometimes.
And just like that, the butterflies take flight again.
Goddamn.
I open the glass door to Cade’s backyard, wrapped in his flannel atop my shorts. Sure, it’s quite large around my frame,but necessary for the crisp morning chill.
Golden sun rays spill through the white clouds, a gentle pink hue glowing amongst the pale blue. I descend the stone steps in my sneakers, the fresh air tickling my face as I walk to the fieldstone fire pit.
Cade’s chin rests on his shoulder when he hears me from behind, his elbow propped on the armrest of the Adirondack chair. “I apologize if I woke you,” he says, his voice level.
I bite my lip as I graze my fingers along his raised knuckles. “You didn’t.” My heart skips when his fingers playfully snatch mine, but I let go and sit in the chair next to him. “I’m not a morning person, to answer your question.”
Getting comfortable, I slump into the Adirondack seat by hiking my knees to my chest. My arms link around my legs, and then I’m peering over at him.Damn.We’re starting strong with a backward snapback.
“I don’t like to waste the day,” he says, sinking back into his chair. He manspreads in his black joggers, planting his palms on his knees as his eyes catch the lake.
“Good point,” I sigh. “But I still like my sleep.”
Cade smirks. “You were more than welcome to stay in my bed.” He pivots his attention to me, securing me with a suggestive glare.
“Maybe your company’s just too good to pass up.”
His smirk weakens slightly when he faces forward. Then his elbow plants on the armrest again, his knuckles greeting his stubbled lips.
I join Cade’s perusal of the lake, cuddling my legs closer. The sparkled ripples of the water softly flow under the early sun, a simplicity just as serene as the peace he’s provided me in our time apart.
“I take it you could get used to visiting me here?”
My eyelids drop at the sound of his question. “Mmhmm.”
Wisps of wind skim my face and hair as I inhale the rich air. My head angles back, the weight of the abrupt silence beginning to pile on my chest. I might be completely off base, but the one thing about Cade and I? We can read each other extremely well.
It was in the way the corner of his mouth dipped and the way his eyes are glued to the lake instead of me. And if that wasn’t enough evidence, it’s in his steady tone. Like he’s treading thin ice, wondering how the hell he’s going to walk this new path we’ve paved.
My eyes peel open, the soft pink and orange hues of the sky waiting for me to admire them. But as beautiful as the scene is, the cable of tension we’re tugging on tarnishes my appreciation.
“I always intended to tell you the truth before we had sex,” I confess. “I would have never made us take that step if you didn’t know the truth.”
“And if it was a year? Or two years until we took that step?”
I swallow thickly, my throat obstructing with every defense I planned. “I wouldn’t have waited that long,” I say softly.
“Are you sure about that?” Cade asks, his tone calm.
As valid as his question is, dense walls rise around my heart. I allow my legs to drop, my sneakers planting on the grass as I sit up straight. “I chose to tell you because I wanted to.” My fingers tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ear, and I look over at him.
He meets my eyes. “Or because you were backed into a corner?” My jaw tenses as I stand up, only for Cade to rise beside me. “Where are you going?” he asks, a light scoff on the backend of his inquiry.
I gesture an arm out, peering up at him with the same steady demeanor. But my voice is curt. “If you’re so pissed about this, then maybe you shouldn’t have fucked me.”
I know he’s right.
