Page 27 of Never Always
“All the components are checked and ready to go.” The pilot’s voice comes from behind me. “The weather is perfect and the winds will be fair. If you haven’t already, empty your bladder and bundle up. There’s a port-a-potty in the parking lot if trees aren’t up to standard.” He winks at me. Grange cackles like a teenaged boy.
“I’m going to hit a tree.” He saunters off toward a sparse tree line. I head to the germ-infested box, wishing it was mannerly to squat outside. Once our bladders are relieved and we’re informed, we help hold the cables while the balloon inflates and then get into the basket. This part isn’t nerve-wracking for me, but I see the trepidation as Grange checks the straps on his backpack… twice. I hide a grin and face the horizon, Grange places a hand around my waist, holding the edge of the basket on my opposite side. I lay my hand on his, and we lift off the ground.
My stomach flips, so when Corrick makes a noise next to me, I know he felt it too.
“What’s wrong with the sunrise from the ground?” The arm around me tenses.
I pat his hand and glance up to his face. His eyes are round, scanning everything. “It’s not the same. Come on. Don’t you want to be in the sunrise?”
His answer is brisk. “No.”
Taking him into my arms, I hug his midsection. It’s hard and warm against my body. The burners are noisy, but in the fading darkness, the bright gasses above us look unreal. We climb higher and higher, gliding forward. There isn’t unsteadiness as I expected and it doesn’t feel the same as flying in an airplane. The sensation is something entirely its own. The pilot points into the distance and instead of seeing the landmark, Grange sees a flock of birds. “If they fly into the balloon how quickly would it collapse?”
The pilot humors Grange, and I’m left wondering if he’s been paid to ruin my date. He adds, “But they won’t fly into the balloon. They’re swift. Smart. They’re also far away. It merely seems the flock is close. Don’t worry.” Finally, he does his job. I blow out a breath.
“Will we see the ocean?” I ask. We drove inland to get here, so I’m wondering how high we’ll have to go to see water.
“Maybe in the horizon.” The pilot stands behind us, and I realize how little privacy we’ll have up here. Nervous energy is vibrating off Grange. Even as he holds me, I can feel his muscles contracting under my hands. The burners flick off and dead silence coats us. The sun rising in the distance casts an orange and pink glow.
After soaking it into my memory, I whisper, “It’s beautiful. It looks the same as it does from the ground, yet completely different.”
He squeezes me, the first movement he’s made purposefully since we left the ground. It doesn’t take long for the sun to illuminate the balloon and our bodies. Grange looks down and over to meet my gaze. “It looks like fire. That’s what it looks like.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
While I have his full attention, I ask, “What are the rules about kissing when you’re dating a woman exclusively? Does that change anything?”
“Are you trying to bring politics into our balloon ride?” The first real smile this morning appears, and my insides melt. “I know you’re argumentative, but I didn’t think you’d go there. In mixed company, too. Where are your manners?”
There’s a moment when I falter, when the self-conscious nagging messes with my head, but he’s holding me tightly, and the look in his eyes silences the battle I wage within. “If there ever was a time to bring up politics in mixed company, I think floating a few thousand feet above the ground is a good place to do it.”
Corrick Granger looks like a Viking. Cold blue eyes that sear, cheekbones that could cut glass, a broad nose, and the lightest blond hair I think I’ve seen on any person. The rays from the sun reflect through his eyes completely. From one side to the other, making him look superhuman, something otherworldly beautiful. He watches me and it’s almost as if I can see his thoughts, and know that he’s weighing options, making a decision about me. Our future, whatever it is that’s between us. He blinks slowly, cutting off my view. His face turns toward the light and then back to me.
Bringing a hand up to my chin, his thumb strokes my jaw. Surprisingly, he lets go of the basket side and brings his other hand up to hold the opposite side of my face. “Where the hell did you come from?” he asks, eyes as deep as the ocean—questioning. “I’d love to bring politics into this wicker basket.” Running his thumb over my bottom lip, I watch him lick his full lips. “But I can’t.” He leans over and when I think despite his words, his lips will meet mine, he tilts his chin up and kisses my forehead, right between my eyes. Then the tip of my nose.
I lose my breath because his lips are so close to mine, and every cell in my body is calling to his. Sighing, I say, “Why can’t we kiss? When then?”
He pulls back and studies me again. “When I know you won’t give up on me.” The smile he flashes is sad, and my eyes sting with emotion—a pain so visceral that it brings tears to my eyes. His whole life is filled with people who do just that—give up on him.
The moment breaks when the burners fire and we both turn to face a sky that’s almost fully lit with a rainbow of colors. He releases me and I’m left empty, cold. A moment later Grange comes from behind and pulls my back against his steely front. My head leaned back on his chest, I breathe him in and obsess over this view. It’s a new day from an entirely new angle, and maybe that’s always been my problem. I never look at things the same way other people do. This sunrise hot air balloon ride is an alliteration for my life. Except someone is next to me finally seeing the same thing I do.
“How will you know, Grange? It seems so trivial. A kiss. How will you know when I won’t give up on you? How is that quantified?”
Corrick pulls me tighter and I feel every ripple of his abs and pecs pressed against me. “Things always have a way of working themselves out. Call it kismet. When I know, I’ll know.”
“It doesn’t seem fair that I have no say.” I clear my throat. “In fact, that’s not fair at all.”
Grange presses a kiss on the side of my head and drags his lips against my ear. “Don’t worry. I’m going to make things fair when we get back on land.”
There’s a heavy promise laced into that innocuous phrase and I shiver. In anticipation, and with need. Not just for his attention, but for more of him. In any way he’ll offer it because he’s holding pieces back. “That’s not the same thing,” I say, even though a fire ignites between my legs screaming that it could be the same thing. He hardens behind me, the bulge pressing against my lower back. Corrick grazes a breathy cackle against my neck as he flexes his hard-on against me. “Grange,” I hiss, sucking in an icy breath. It’s cold up here, but I haven’t noticed because my body feels hot. “We aren’t alone.”
“No, because if we were, I’d be fucking you right now.”
“I’m changing my favorite catchphrase from you’re awful to you’re inappropriate.”
He slides his hands from the lip of the basket over my jacket to the small of my waist. The pilot is directly behind us, so logically I know he can’t see what Corrick is doing with his hands, but I know and it makes me uncomfortable. Not enough to stop him, though. A fact that horrifies me. His fingers slip underneath my sweater and he runs his icy digits over my stomach, and across the waist of my jeans.
“It’s not inappropriate if you want it.” We’re so entwined that it’s as if we’re one person. “Tell me. Do you want it?”
