“I like being where you are.” He drapes an arm over her legs and closes his eyes.
I bite my lip and look away to hide the tears that spring to my eyes. They’re so cute it’s ridiculous, and there’s nothing better than seeing my brother so happy. It makes me love Kylie even more.
“Well, it’s not even ten, and it looks like this is our Friday night,” Ky says, glancing down at Brax, already asleep in her lap. “Want to watch a movie?”
“With wine?”
“Obviously.”
“You guys sleeping here tonight?” I ask. Kylie and Braxton have their own place, and I still live in the house where Braxton and I grew up. Our parents died in a car accident when we were ten, and we stayed here with our aunt. After she died, we inherited the house, but Braxton insisted I be the one to keep it. He bought a condo that’s walking distance from here, and I live in this big old place by myself. The three of us all lived here when we were in college, so Brax and Ky still have their own rooms, and crash here pretty regularly. Of course, Kylie sleeps with Braxton now, instead of her old room downstairs. But it still works. I like it when they’re here. I get lonely living here all alone.
“Most likely,” she says. “You mind?”
“Never.”
“Thanks, babe.”
I get up from the couch. “I’ll change into comfies and get us wine so you don’t have to move him.”
“Thanks,” she says with a laugh, and leans down to kiss Braxton’s forehead.
I head upstairs to my room. I don’t use the master bedroom. To be honest, I haven’t been in that room in years. It must be horribly dusty. But the house is big, with six bedrooms and four bathrooms, so there’s more than enough space. I’ve updated and remodeled a lot of it, but my parents’ old room is the one area I won’t touch.
I change from my work clothes into yoga pants and a tank top, and grab a fluffy blanket from the foot of my bed. My pants don’t quite make it to my ankles, so I guess I’ll say they’re capris and pretend it’s not because I’m so fucking tall. Kylie always says she’s jealous of my legs, but she has no idea how hard it is to find clothes.
I head downstairs and pour two glasses of wine. I snuggle up next to Ky and we find something to watch. Drinking a bottle of wine and watching a movie with my best friend is certainly not the worst way to spend a Friday night. But I can’t help but wonder if I’m wasting my time with Aidan. If maybe there’s someone else out there.
Someone with a little heat.
2: Ronan
The plane takes off, and my adrenaline starts pumping. I went through my preflight safety check on the ground. My gear is perfect. I glance over at the jump coordinator and he gives me a nod.
The noise of the engine roars in my ears and I watch the ground fall away as we ascend. The sky over Lake Elsinore is completely clear. It’s the perfect day for a jump. Two other guys are suited up next to me. I don’t know them, but the calm looks on their faces tells me everything I need to know: They’re pros. We’ll have a solid jump today.
My blood pumps harder, and the weight that always sits on my shoulders lightens as we gain altitude. My head clears. I know the rush is coming, and my whole body lights up with anticipation. I start to feel alive again.
My brother Damon calls me an adrenaline junkie, and makes sure to relay our parents’ distaste for my hobbies whenever we talk. I suppose I can’t blame them for their concern. My folks are decent people, but they’ve never understood me—especially not the man I’ve become.
I’m a risk taker. I always have been. I was the kid who thought that if I tried hard enough, I could fly like Superman. And I definitely tried. I had fear in those days, but I fed off it. Fear drove me to go bigger, higher, faster. The crashes were learning experiences. I still felt afraid, but I pushed through it and did crazy shit anyway.
I lost the fear later.
Now the only times I really feel alive are moments like this.
Wind rushes past the plane; the engine roars. The pilot takes us to eighteen-thousand feet, high above the world. My heart races. Everything stands out—my vision is sharp, my thoughts completely focused. My lungs expand, taking in oxygen, clear and clean. Every muscle is coiled and ready.
It’s like the moment before orgasm. The tension mounts, pressure and heat building. You know it’s coming—the explosion that’s going to rock through your whole body and take you down.
I live for that shit.