Fear of Falling

CHAPTER Eleven

“You’re nervous.”

I looked at Angel lounging on my bed like the princess she claimed to be and rolled my eyes. “You think?”

“Mmm hmm,” she remarked, her eyes glued to a gossip magazine. It was a good thing too; she couldn’t see me flipping her off.

“Maybe this is a mistake. I said I wouldn’t get involved with coworkers again. I need to call and cancel. I should cancel, right? Oh, holy f*ck, what am I doing?” I rambled, wringing my hands in front of me. The room shifted before my eyes, throwing off my equilibrium. A panic attack was on the horizon.

“Calm down and breathe, Kam,” she gently admonished, tossing her magazine to the side. “It’ll be fine. Blaine is a gentleman. You’ll be fine.”

“She still freaking out?” Dom asked as he entered my bedroom. He flopped down next to Angel.

“I am not freaking out,” I insisted, crossing my arms in front of me. “And don’t think I’m speaking to you again. First, you totally blow up my spot last week at my job, and now you’re having secret pow-wows with Blaine? Not cool, dude.”

Dom let out a heavy sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I explained and apologized for last week, Kam. I just…I don’t know. Got caught up in stupid guy talk. I’m not used to being around other people outside of you two. For once, I wasn’t caught in a huge estrogen fest and I lost my head. Shit, you know I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t explain your little talk with Blaine earlier,” Angel chimed in, earning a hard glare from Dom that screamed, “Mind your own damn business.”

“Just go into this with an open mind,” Dom said, successfully changing the subject. He knew he couldn’t win with us. “Don’t feel like you have to rush into anything.”

“Ok,” I nodded, smoothing my jean skirt over my hips. “How do I look?”

“He said dress comfortably,” Dom remarked, taking in my skirt, sheer, flouncy top and flats.

“This is comfortable! It’s hot as a witch’s tit outside!”

“Oh hell,” Dom shook his head. “Angel is rubbing off on you.”

“Damn right!” Angel exclaimed.

As we laughed off the tension, a buzz from the intercom caused the nerves to return with a vengeance. Angel flitted to the door, giving Blaine clearance to come up. I felt like I would break out into hives.

“Damn, girl,” Dom chuckled, climbing to his feet. “You act like he’s going to steal your virtue or something!” He crooked an elbow out for me to lace my arm through. “Come on, you’ll be fine, Kam. You deserve…this.”

“This?”

“The normal dating thing. You deserve to be swept off your feet. The flowers and candy. You deserve to be happy, Kam.”

I looked up at my best friend, the man who had been closer to me than family. The only man I had ever truly trusted. “You too, Dom,” I whispered, my eyes shining with unshed tears. “You deserve that, too.”

“Eh,” he shrugged with a grin. “One day. But no time soon. Too many chicks out there with low self-esteem and even lower morals.”

I gave him a light punch with my other hand and shook my head. “Oh Dirty Dom, what am I gonna do with you?”

“I can think of a few things, but right now, you’ve got a guy waiting to take you out on a date. And if you don’t get out there soon, I’m sure Angel will start spilling stories of drunken girl’s nights involving tequila and dildos.”

My eyes grew wide with shock and alarm at the sound of Blaine’s deep laugh from the foyer. Yeah, Angel would totally give him an earful.

On shaky legs, I let Dom lead me out to the living room where Blaine stood with Angel, his back facing us. As if sensing our approach, he turned and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of him. Even though he wore a simple short-sleeved button up and jeans, his good looks still managed to disarm me. He was a rare, captivating work of sculpted art.

“Hey,” Blaine breathed, as we were just inches from each other.

I unhooked my arm from Dom’s and folded my hands in front of me, unsure of what to do with them. Part of me wanted to stretch on my tiptoes and give him a peck on the cheek, which is what I would usually do while going through the motions of a “date.” But this was unlike any of those times because Blaine was different from any man I had ever known. And the way I felt about him was just as foreign to me.

“Why does this feel like prom?” Angel asked, breaking the ice.

Blaine barked out a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Should I have brought you a corsage?”

I looked up into his warm brown eyes, reflexively smiling at the sight. “I don’t know. Are you gonna try to spike my punch and feel me up in the back seat of your family’s station wagon?”

“Maybe,” he winked.

We escaped my roommates’ awkward questions and made our way down to Blaine’s truck. Turned out, truck was an understatement. He drove a beast.

“Huh,” I nearly snorted as we approached. “I hate to say it, but you surely live up to the stereotype.”

“What?” he asked sheepishly.

I waved my hand in the direction of the gleaming black F-150 before me. “Southern guy with a big ass monster truck? If you have a camouflage cap in there, I’m going back upstairs.”

Blaine laughed, shaking his head, as he opened the passenger side door. “No, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t. Looks like you’re stuck with me for the evening.”

Before I could respond, his hands had wrapped around my waist, and he was lifting me up into the truck effortlessly. I let out a little yip out of shock although I felt completely safe and secure with his hands on me. He even reached over and buckled me in, letting his incredible scent wash over me, as his mussed hair tickled my face. I should have known at that very moment that my fate was sealed.

“So where to?” I asked after he had climbed into his own seat and revved the car to life.

Blaine smiled that boyish grin that made even the most ornery woman forget her name. I imagined the countless pairs of panties that must have dropped instantaneously from that smile alone.

“I have to feed you before I put you to work.”

“Put me to work?” I asked with mock offense.

Blaine winked a chocolate-brown eye, and I swear my heart stuttered. “You’ll see.”

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up to a small diner in a rundown neighborhood. The parking lot was packed with cars, and I could hear at least five different types of music blasting from various stereo systems. The restaurant was old, nondescript, and reminded me of a hole-in-the-wall place with a chef that everyone called Cookie. I looked to Blaine with a raised brow. If this was the famous Blaine Jacobs persuasion, then he was extremely misguided and overly confident.

“Keep an open mind. I’ve got you; I promise,” he smiled, his brown eyes smoldering under the dimming sunlight.

He jumped out of the truck and came over to open my door, nearly picking me up out of my seat. Then he laced his fingers through mine as he led me into the diner. It was packed, and I could feel the panic rising in my gut. There were so many people…so many eyes suddenly on us. The only thing that kept me from falling apart was the fact that every table was filled. I knew we wouldn’t get a table and would hopefully leave. Thank baby Jesus for small miracles.

Heads turned instantly, and I heard quite a few people greet Blaine by name, including a tiny grey-haired lady behind the counter. She had a sweet face—one that reminded you of your grandma. Her eyes lit up when she saw Blaine and she flashed us a comforting smile.

“Hey sugar, you all go ahead on to your table. Mavis will be by with some sweet tea shortly, ok?” Her southern accent was thicker than Blaine’s, as if she had lived in the area her entire life. For some reason, it warmed my soul.

Blaine led me to a small table towards the back, greeting what I assumed were regulars the entire way. They all seemed to know him well, especially the female patrons.

“I take it you come here often,” I remarked once we took our seats.

“Yeah. I actually used to live a block away. My family and I came here all the time.”

I nodded, picking up the plastic menu. “So what’s good here?” I peered over the menu, noticing that Blaine hadn’t even picked his up yet. He must have known it by heart.

“Everything, really. But the waffles are the best you will ever taste in your life. And it just so happens that we’re here for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I asked, giving him a confused glare. “Um, you do realize that it’s nighttime, right?”

“True. But nobody does waffles like Ms. Patty. And you told me the first time I asked you out for breakfast that we’d have to do it some other time. And then I couldn’t stay for it this morning. So yes, breakfast is in order. We owe it to each other.”

I put my menu on the table and narrowed my eyes. “And what if I don’t want breakfast?”

Blaine grinned but didn’t get a chance to answer before a stocky-built young woman wearing an apron came by with glasses of iced tea.

“Hey baby, been a while since we seen you ‘round here,” she said to Blaine. He smiled at her politely then nodded towards me.

“Mavis, this is Kami. Kami, this is Mavis. Her family runs this old broken down joint.”

Mavis flashed me a smile before smacking Blaine on the shoulder. “Hey now! If Mama hears you bad-mouthing her establishment, she’s liable to send you back to wash dishes. Don’t think you are above some real hard work, Blaine Jacobs. I knew you when you didn’t have two nickels to rub together,” she jibed.

We all chuckled before Mavis turned her attention towards me. “Well, you two get back to your date. Mama will be by for your order. It was nice meeting you, Kami. And Blaine, try to stay outta trouble, ya hear? And you still owe me a bike.” Then she sashayed over to a table of rowdy teens.

“A bike?” I asked once we were alone.

Blaine shrugged. “She’s adamant that I stole her bike and rode it into a ditch when we were eight. It was actually CJ that did it, but I never ratted him out,” he winked.

“Hmph. Interesting.” I picked up the menu and began scanning it again.

“Seriously,” Blaine began, prompting me to lower the menu from my face. “Order whatever you want. You don’t have to get breakfast.”

I simply nodded and went back to perusing the selections in silence until a squeal rang out from beside us.

“You better stand up and give me a hug, you rascal!” the older grey-haired lady exclaimed.

“Yes, ma’am,” Blaine smiled, standing up to wrap her tiny frame in his arms. He looked like a giant compared to her.

“And who is this beauty?” she asked, smiling at me.

“Ms. Patty, this is the lovely Kami Duvall. Kami, Ms. Patty has been whoopin’ my ass since the day I was born.”

“Hush that mouth, boy,” she laughed, smacking him lightly with a rag. “Not in the presence of ladies. Now I know I taught you better’n that!”

“Forgive me. You certainly did, Ms. Patty.”

I couldn’t help but smile as she looked at Blaine with a loving pride that only a mother figure could possess. She loved Blaine, and I could tell that he loved her too. It made the walls around my heart crumble just a tiny bit more.

“It is so good to finally meet you, Kami,” she said, grasping my hands with hers.

I just barely stifled a yelp from the contact and tried my hardest to transform my grimace into a smile. “It’s really nice to meet you too, Ms. Patty.”

“Oh, Blaine, she is just too precious,” she remarked, patting him on the back. The look on his face was pure adoration, and I found it hard to tear my eyes away from his.

“Ok, what can I getcha? Blaine, you’ll have your usual, right?” Ms. Patty said, pulling out a pen and pad.

“Yes, ma’am. Kami?” he nodded.

I pushed the menu away and gave Blaine a wink. “And I’ll have whatever he’s having, please.”

The spontaneity was unlike me in every way, but the look on Blaine’s face was worth it. I don’t know what I would call it. Not quite joy, not quite admiration. It was something else…something warm and gratifying. Something that gave me the urge to do whatever I could to make him look at me like that again.

I must have gotten lost in those expressive eyes, because I totally forgot about Ms. Patty until she walked away, announcing that she would put our orders in right away. I shook my head, trying to regain my bearings.

“You’re doing it again,” I said, grasping a neon green flyer on the table advertising a car detailing shop.

“Doing what?”

“Giving me that look. Like you’re studying me. Like you see something in me that’s invisible to everyone else.”

“I’m sorry. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

I shook my head, my fingers mindlessly tearing the paper. “No. Not really. But remember you said I distract you? And that’s why I couldn’t wear skirts?”

I heard him chuckle, but I was too bashful to meet his gaze. I knew the Asian flush was in full effect.

“Yet you have one on right now. Which you look incredible in, by the way. And it’s distracting the hell outta me.”

I chewed my bottom lip, my face flaming like a 12-year old girl with Bieber Fever. “Well…when you look at me like that, you roll your tongue. Like you’re playing with your piercing. And it’s very, very distracting.”

His hands were suddenly cupping mine, causing me to look up into his face. He was giving me that look, yet it was laced with something else. Something more. Something that made my insides clench with desire and my belly do somersaults. The feeling was new and unknown, and it both thrilled and terrified me equally.

“What’s this?” he said just above a whisper, picking up the origami flower formerly known as a paper advertisement.

I shrugged. “It’s a habit. When I’m nervous or stressed, I tend to do it without even thinking about it.”

A frown marred his features, yet he never let go of my hands. “Are you nervous or stressed with me?”

I shook my head and gave him a slight smile. “No, you don’t stress me out. But you do make me nervous. In a good way,” I replied, repeating my words from last week.

“Hmmm, I wasn’t aware there was a good kinda nervous.”

We sat there for a few more seconds, his hands still housing mine, before Ms. Patty arrived with our food.

“Now here y’all go, just the way you like ‘em, Blaine,” she announced, placing giant platters of waffles covered with butter, fresh blueberries and whipped cream, with sides of bacon and sausage in front of us. My eyes grew twice their size.

“Now you take care of this young lady, ya hear?” she told Blaine, smiling at me sweetly. “Kami, you come by any time you like. And if this rascal gives you any trouble at all, you let me know, ok?”

I returned her smile with my own, and nodded. “I’ll be sure to do that, Ms. Patty. Thank you.”

Ms. Patty gave Blaine one last swat with her rag and turned to tend to the masses.

“She likes you,” Blaine remarked, unrolling the silverware in his napkin.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “She probably says that to all your dates.”

“Yeah right,” Blaine scoffed. “First off, Ms. Patty doesn’t do fake. If she doesn’t like you, you will know it. And secondly, I’ve never brought a date here. Ever.”

I tore my eyes away from the mountain of food in front of me and gave him a skeptical look. There was no trace of humor or deceit on his gorgeous face, and it quickly rendered me speechless. What could I possibly say to that?

“Eat up. You’ll need your energy for later,” he instructed, pointing his fork towards my plate.

“Energy?”

Blaine just chuckled and shook his head, taking a giant bite of blueberry-smothered waffles.

After nearly polishing off a plate of the best waffles I had ever had and earning an “I told you so” from Blaine, we said our goodbyes to Mavis and Ms. Patty and headed back out to Blaine’s truck. I was beyond stuffed, so I was grateful that Blaine took it upon himself to lift me back onto my seat. I felt bad for him; I must’ve packed on at least 10 pounds in the past hour. Ms. Patty’s food was more than worth it though.

Housing developments, strip malls, and restaurants became scarcer as Blaine drove east, the sight of thick, lush foliage whizzing by in the darkness. He turned onto a dirt-paved road surrounded by tall trees, and a niggling feeling in the back of my head set off alarm bells.

“Um, where are we going?” I asked with a trembling voice. Images of my body chopped up and stuffed into dozens of Ziploc baggies flashed in my mind. I shivered despite the warm temperature.

I felt his warm hand on my knee without even seeing him move. “You’ll see. Don’t worry; I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me.”

I eased back into the seat, his touch radiating comfort and tranquility. It didn’t feel like a sexual touch, being that he didn’t stray from his position on my bare knee. It felt soothing…calming. It was all Blaine.

When he finally stopped the truck, I noticed we were at a field of some sort. I didn’t really understand why he had brought me here. It was nearly pitch-black out. Suddenly, the earlier vision of my gruesome demise didn’t seem so far off.

Blaine reached behind his seat and recovered two Mason jars, handing me one.

“And what do you expect me to do with this?” I asked.

“Catch lightning bugs, of course,” he smiled, the lights of the dash illuminating his face.

“Lightning bugs? You mean fireflies? Why would you want to catch them?”

“Tomato, tomato. I can’t believe you never caught them before. I know y’all had lightning bugs down in ATL.”

“I didn’t grow up there,” I replied, shaking my head. Without even thinking, I was telling him the truth. I was letting him in. “I’m from California, where they’re called fireflies.”

“Ah, makes sense. Ok, city mouse, time to show you how it’s done.”

He slid out of the truck and came over to my side to help me out. Then he took my hand and led me out into the field. “Look,” he instructed, pointing out into the darkness. Dozens of tiny glowing insects swirled around us, creating a field of twinkle lights. I could hear the buzz from their wings, harmonizing with the sounds of crickets and distant night critters. The combination was oddly peaceful, and I let myself soak it all in.

“When I was a boy, my mother used to bring me out here at night so we could catch lightning bugs. We’d place bets to see who could catch the most. I think she always let me win.”

I could almost hear the smile in his voice, and his accent suddenly sounded thicker. Rich with emotion. He was that little boy again, catching fireflies with his mom.

“She told me that you would always find the most lightning bugs when a summer storm was approaching. They were like a warning, illuminating the sky before the real lightning struck. They were nature’s omen. The change in the atmosphere, the moisture in the air, some unseen current…they knew something big was coming. She swore she could predict the weather just by watching the lightning bugs. The more there were, the worse the storm.”

“Sounds like a pretty resourceful woman,” I remarked.

“She was. She knew a bit about everything. I never knew my dad, so she was all I had. And I believed every word she said.”

His use of past tense did not go unnoticed by me. I squeezed his hand a little tighter and stepped into his side. “I’m sorry.”

I could see Blaine shaking his head in the darkness. “Don’t be. She died a long time ago. I believe I got her best years. Any more than that would have been selfish of me.”

Strangled, silent moments passed between us as I digested Blaine’s words. I imagined a little boy with expressive brown eyes and messy russet hair, crying for his mommy. Reaching out for the one person who he loved more than anything in the world. His lifeline. Alone, frightened and utterly helpless. He had lost his everything.

I didn’t even realize how deeply his words had touched me until I felt a hot tear roll down my cheek. I don’t know why Blaine shared that with me, but I was thankful. It reminded me that pain was necessary. Pain was life’s curveball. Without it, we would never appreciate what it felt like to be loved.

“Come on, we’ve got some lightning bugs to catch,” he said, looking down at me with a mournful smile. I never wanted to kiss him more than in that moment.

After Blaine taught me how to capture the bugs in the Mason jar, we spent the better part of an hour running through the field to see who could catch the most with only the truck’s headlights to brighten our efforts. Despite jumping at every creak or rustle of the trees, I did pretty well for a first-timer. Blaine was a madman. I spent several minutes just watching him go crazy, nabbing the mystical little pests with a childlike fervor.

When we were both exhausted and sticky from the humidity, Blaine spread a quilt in the bed of his truck where we lay on our backs side by side. He turned on the truck’s radio to a popular station, the sounds of OneRepublic, and our laughter the only noise to be heard for miles.

“Ok, before we tally up the results, would you like to make a little wager?” he asked holding up his jar of flickering insects.

“Oh please! You know you won. Betting against you would be stupid!”

I felt him shrug beside me. “You never know. Come on; humor me.”

I sighed. “Fine. If I win…” I scrunched my forehead in concentration until a stroke of genius sent me into hysterics. “You have to perform at the next Open Mic Night!” Blaine’s horrified expression only fueled my laughter, causing tears to roll down the sides of my face.

“Ok, ok, so you want to play it like that, huh?” he said loudly, trying to drown out my giggles. “If I win, you have to spend the night with me again.”

His words quickly quieted my guffaws, and I rolled over onto my side to assess his expression. “You’re serious.”

“Absolutely. For some strange reason, I have a sudden appreciation for sleepovers.” Blaine rolled over onto his side as well, putting us face to face. “And I do mean sleep. No funny business, young lady,” he jibed.

“And here I thought you were going to wager a kiss,” I said just above a whisper.

“Nah. No need,” he replied, matching my hushed tone. “I was gonna do that anyway.”

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