Page 60 of Mark & Don't Tell

I glance at her. Her eyes are set on me, wide with surprise. I adjust myself and smirk as her gaze goes right where I want it.

The pilot raps his knuckles on the side of the cockpit as the blades slowly start to spin, creating a loud whir outside. The helicopter is still preparing for lift off, so it’ll only be another minute or so before we’re taking off. I grudgingly pull the door closed and grab our headsets while she buckles herself in.

Daria’s fingers brush over mine when I hand hers over, and as soon as I have my headset and seat belt on, my hand finds its way around her shoulders. She stiffens for a millisecond before breathing out and snuggling closer.

I try not to think about whatever asshole made her so timid and focus on the here and now as we lift into the sky. Her breasts bounce as we go over a rough bout of wind. Fuck me. I avert my gaze and study the skyline.

“We’ll tour for about thirty minutes before I escort you all to dinner.” The pilot’s voice comes through. “The headset allows me to transmit messages to you all, but I can’t hear your private discussions unless you hit that yellow button where the headsets were sitting.”

I don’t bother thanking him, since he can’t hear me. As he gives a little more information about the tour of the Virginia Beach coast, all I can focus on is the soft press of Daria’s body against mine. She shivers when I run my finger down her arm.

“Cold?” I ask her through the headset.

“A little,” she admits.

Leaning forward, I strip my jacket off and drape it over her lap.

“What about you?”

“I’m okay.” It’s a little cold, but I don’t want her to suffer because I didn’t think to bring a blanket. “How long have you lived in Norfolk?”

“My whole life,” she answers, gazing out of the window as we approach the ocean. “You?”

“I was born in Texas, but we moved around a lot because of my dad. After he passed, we never moved again.”

“Oh. How old was he when he died?”

I’m glad she didn’t say sorry or another basic platitude. “Thirty-three.” It’s still a mind fuck when I realize I’m older than he was when he died. “He was a good man. Strict, but he made it to every sporting event or dance recital. He played with us. Read books. Helped my mom around the house.”

There are probably rules against telling this level of truth on a first date. It’s probably not very romantic, but I want her to know about me. I want her to understand who I am and what makes me, me. Losing my dad was a big part of that.

“Sounds like he was a good dad.”

I nod, and the pilot coming through to tell us about the coast gives me a moment to gather my thoughts. “I don’t think he would’ve approved of the helicopter ride,” I tell Daria once the pilot is done. “But I decided a long time ago I wasn’t going to be afraid to live, because life can end before you’re ready for it.”

“Which is why you and the guys went skydiving?”

“Exactly.” Smoothing my palm over her arm, I turn the conversation to less depressing topics. “What made you want to do marketing?”

“I know it’s not the best career choice,” she begins, like she expects me to judge her for it. “Full truth? I watched Mad Men, and while I had a love-hate relationship with Don Draper, the whole process of creating a campaign fascinated me. I’ve always been good with art. I also have a knack for picking up vibes. Thanks for the trauma, Mom.” She sing-songs the last part.

I laugh. “At least it made you funny.”

She snorts. “Funny and anxious. So, tell me about you guys? When did you bond?”

“Well, that’s a story . . .”

Twenty-Two

DARIA

My mouth hangs open, and I pull back to stare at Kai. “Streaking? Seriously?”

“Yup. It was a dare. You already know that I’m determined to live life. Vic doesn’t like to let other people win, and Lincoln?” He pauses and shakes his head. “Lincoln was buzzed and thought it sounded like fun.”

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to picture the three of you running around naked.” Shaking my head, I giggle, the image in my head too obnoxious to be reality.

He chuckles. “Yeah. Since we grew up together, we always hung out, but after that, the three of us were inseparable.” Smirking at me, he arches an eyebrow. “Have you ever done it?”

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