Sparrow (21 page)

“He’s
mad at me,” she says as I lower her arms to her sides.  “He doesn’t like my
dress.”

I
love her dress, which is probably why her husband hates it.  No doubt I’m not
the only guy in this place who’s noticed her.

I
wrap my arm around her waist.  “Come on,” I say.  “Let’s get out of here.”

She
lets her weight fall against my side, allowing me to support her.  “You smell
good,” she murmurs.

“What?”

“You
always smell good,” she says and leans closer, brushing her nose across my neck. 
“What cologne do you wear?”

“I
don’t,” I say as I walk and try to calm my pulse.  Her lips brushed my skin
when she asked that question, and my blood is on fire.

When
we reach Ashley, she hands Addison her purse and we head to the coat check. 
Addison leaves my side to slide into her jacket, and once we step outdoors into
the cool air, my temperature returns to normal.  I lead the girls in the
direction of my truck, stopping once to steady Addison when she stumbles into a
pothole.

“Those
shoes are a death trap,” I say as I hold on to Addison’s elbow.

“Not
when you’re sober,” Ashley teases.

Addison
sticks her tongue out at her.

When
I open the passenger side door, Ashley hops up into the cab, then reaches for
Addison’s hand to help pull her inside.  Shutting the door behind them, I round
the front of my truck and crawl into the driver’s seat.  I turn the ignition
and pull out of the parking lot, automatically headed for Kevin and Ashley’s
apartment.  I’m a little concerned about leaving Addison’s Hummer behind, but,
in truth, it’s none of my business.

No
more than ten minutes into the drive I glance over and see Addison’s head
resting on her best friend’s shoulder.  She’s passed out.  Ashley moves to support
her, which prompts me to ask, “So, what happened?”

Ashley
frowns.  “Derek got pissed after he found out where we were.  He showed up at
the club and took Addison’s keys because he said she was too drunk to drive.”

“Was
she?”

“Not
at that point.”  Addison’ head rolls forward and Ashley gently pushes it back. 
“She got there real quick after he left, though.”

“Didn’t
you try to stop him?”

“Of
course!  I told him she was fine and we didn’t have a ride.  He told me to call
a cab.”

I
grow angry and merge into another lane on the expressway.  “If he was that
concerned, he should have stayed and drove you home.”

“You
think?” Ashley asks sarcastically.  “I know the two of them are going through
some stuff right now, but you don’t leave your wife and her best friend
stranded at a bar.  You don’t criticize her outfit in front of strangers, and
you certainly don’t walk away when she’s near tears.  Those are dick moves.”

My
eyes narrow and I clutch the steering wheel.  “Agreed,” I mutter.

We
fall silent the rest of the way to the apartment.  I can’t stop thinking about
Derek.  Where does he get off treating Addison that way?  Or Ashley, for that
matter?  When Kevin finds out, he’s not going to be happy.  I need to talk to
Addison when she’s sober and find out what she sees in this man.  She needs to
help me understand why she loves him.

Because
she deserves better.

When
I pull in and park in front of Kevin’s building, I ask Ashley if Addison is
staying with her.

“No,”
Addison mumbles, surprising us.  She sits up slowly, her hair a mess across one
side of her face.  “I want to go home.”

“Are
you sure?” Ashley asks, concerned.  “You can stay with me.  Kevin’s up north. 
He won’t be back until Monday.”

Addison
nods.  “I want my own bed.”  She looks at me.  “And Sam.”

I
get it.

The
girls hug goodbye, and I follow Ashley to her door to make sure she gets inside
safely.

“I’m
sorry we had to bother you,” she says.  “If Kevin were home, I would have
called him.”

“Don’t
worry about it,” I say.  “I’m glad I could help.”

She
opens the door, then stands on her toes to wrap an arm around my neck.  “I
always wanted a big brother,” she says into my shoulder.  “Thank you.”

I
pat her back.  “You’re welcome.”

When
I return to my truck, I find Addison in probably one of the strangest positions
possible.  She’s got her leg pulled up beside her on the seat.  Her knee is
twisted awkwardly with her heel to her butt as she fumbles with the buckle on
her ankle.

“What
are you doing?” I ask.

“Taking
off these damn shoes.”  She lets out an irritated breath.

Sliding
over on the seat a few inches, I hold out my hand.  “Give me your foot.”

Her
eyes meet mine before she turns and unwinds herself.  She props her back
against the door and extends her leg toward me.  As I reach for her ankle, my
eyes fall on a scar that extends over her knee, the skin slightly raised and faded
from time.  I hesitate, looking at it, and she notices.

“That’s
where they put the rod in my leg,” she says.

I
want to kiss that scar.

Immediately,
I move my focus to her shoe, unfastening the small strap.  Her skin is red and
indented where the leather was.  “Does it hurt?” I ask.

“My
knee?”

“No,
your ankle,” I say as I remove her shoe and motion for her to give me her other
foot.

“A
little.”

Heels
off, I concentrate on her pink-painted toenails and try to rub the red spots
away.  The dome light in the truck times out, leaving us in the dark.  I continue
to massage her skin, and she sighs.  I look up.  “Feel good?”

Her
face is shadowed, but I can still see her features.  “Everything about you
feels good.”

My
hands stop moving.  “What?”

She
rests her head against the passenger window and stares at me.  “I can’t stop
thinking about you.”  She closes her eyes.  “The sound of your voice.  The
touch of your hands.  The way you look.”  She lets her head roll to the side along
the glass.  “I’m drowning in you.” 

My
throat goes dry.  “What does that mean?”

She
opens her eyes.  “It means I can’t breathe, but you make my heart beat.”

Holding
her gaze, I move closer.  “Why can’t you breathe?”

“The
guilt takes my air,” she confesses.  “It’s so heavy.  It sits on my chest and
crushes my lungs.  It whispers to me and says I shouldn’t care about you.”

She
cares about me.

I
reach for her hand, and she weaves her fingers through mine.  I can’t believe
she’s being so honest.  “Your guilt and mine have been hanging out together,” I
say.  “They tell us the same things.”

She
runs her thumb over my knuckles.  “Assholes,” she mutters.

I
laugh.

“I
wish I could give you more, Kyle.”

I
want that.  I so fucking do.

Suddenly,
she pulls her hand from mine.  “I’m sorry.  Ignore me.  I’m drunk.”  She moves,
sitting up straight and putting distance between us.  “I shouldn’t have said those
things.”

She’s
not that drunk.

“We
shouldn’t hang out,” she says, nervously straightening her dress.

Oh,
no you don’t,
I
think.  “Listen.”  I lean toward her.  “A very wise woman told me you would
come back into my life when the time was right.  Promise me we’ll stick
together long enough to find out if that’s true.”

Addison’s
eyes grow wide.  “Gram?”

I
nod, and her eyes turn glassy with unshed tears.

“You’re
not getting rid of me that easily.”  Now that I know she’s battling the same
feelings as me I feel lighter.  It’s almost as if we’re a team, fighting
against the same thing.

Our
hearts.

Silent
seconds pass before she takes a breath.  “Okay.  I can handle it.  We’re
friends.”

“Right,”
I say.  “Friends who in secret really, really like each other, but won’t act on
it because the girl is married.  Although, the guy wants it noted that he
thinks the husband is a royal jackass and doesn’t deserve the girl.”

Addison’s
mouth falls open and she starts to laugh.  She slaps her free hand over her
mouth in remorse.  “I’m so going to hell,” she says.

I
squeeze her knee.  “I’ll meet you there.”

I
stare at myself in the dressing room mirror.  The last time I wore a tux, I was
fourteen and forced.

I
remember the sleeves of the jacket were too long and the collar of my shirt too
tight.  I remember standing at the altar, between my dad and my brother, fidgeting. 
I remember my father elbowing me to stop when Lydia started to walk down the
aisle, and I remember spending most of that night with a scowl on my face.

It’s
funny how one image can bring back so many memories.

With
a little more than a month to go before the big day, Kevin, Austin, Noah, and I
are at the mall getting fitted for our monkey suits.  As I fasten the jacket at
my waist, I realize something I never wanted to: my dad and I share similar
choices.  No, Addison and I aren’t having a physical affair.  And no, I’m not
planning to break up her marriage.  But, we know how we feel about one another. 
We’re having an emotional affair, with plans to see how things play out.

And
damn it if it doesn’t feel right.

I
pull the bottom of the jacket down to straighten it and hear Kevin outside my
door.

“How
does it fit?”

“Good,”
I say.  At least I can breathe.  “How much is the deposit again?”

“Seventy-five,
but don’t worry about it.  It’s on the etiquette list that the groom covers the
best man’s tux.”

Since
when does my brother care about etiquette?  Opening the door, I come face-to-face
with Kevin.  “Dude.  Don’t do shit like that.”

“Like
what?”

“Pay
for my suit.”

He
rolls his eyes.  “I’m supposed to.”

“Don’t.”

My
brother places his hand against the doorframe.  “Think about it.  I work for
you.  You sign my paycheck.  Therefore, my money is your money.”  He raises his
eyebrows.  “You’re really paying for your own tux.”

I
frown.  When he puts it that way, I’m shelling out for more than a rental.  “I’m
footing the bill for half this wedding, aren’t I?”

Kevin
grins.  “Thanks, big brother.”

Shithead.

Once
the four of us have reserved our sizes, we make our way out of the mall.  Since
we’re all together, I decide to share the bachelor party details.  The other
guys already know the plan, but my brother has been kept in the dark.

“So,”
I set my hand on Kev’s shoulder, “plan on being indisposed the Saturday before
the wedding.”

“Why?”

“Because
we’re kidnapping you,” Austin says, wagging his eyebrows.  “It’s your final
celebration as a free man.”

My
brother smiles.  “Where are we headed?”

“It’s
a secret,” I say.  “Just plan on leaving Saturday and coming home on Sunday.”

“Ashley’s
not going to like that.”

“No
worries,” I reassure him.  “She’ll be indisposed too.”

Over
the last few days, Addison and I discussed our respective parties and decided
to plan them for the same weekend.  That way, both Ashley and Kevin would be
too busy to worry about what the other one was doing.  Unfortunately, I know
Addison’s plans for Ashley.

Yeah,
it bugs me.

My
phone rings as we exit the mall.  I simultaneously answer it and wave goodbye
to our friends as Kevin and I head toward his Wrangler.  “Hello?”

“Hey
there, Kyle.  How ya’ doin’?”

It’s
Brady, my former boss.  “Not too bad.  Yourself?”

“Can’t
complain,” he says, and I imagine him hitching up his pants.  He always did
that.

“Are
you and Estelle still tearing up the States in the motorhome?” I ask.

He
chuckles.  “Not since last summer.  ‘Stell fell and messed up her back, so
we’ve been taking it easy this winter.”

“I’m
sorry to hear that.”

“S’okay,”
he says.  “It gave me some time to get other things done.  Like clean out that
storage I’ve been meaning to get to.”

“Storage?”

“You
know, that place over on Elm.  The last of the property.”

Now
I remember.  “Ah.  You finally got your antiques moved.”

“I’m
sorry it took so long,” he apologizes.  “The wife couldn’t decide what she
wanted to keep.”

I
laugh.  “It’s no big deal.  We haven’t needed it.”

When
I bought Brady Landscape, I initially purchased the main garage.  Brady also had
a few off-site storage buildings where he kept things, like old equipment and
paperwork.  He used the Elm Street address to store personal items; he and his
wife are big antique collectors.  Over time, as part of our deal, I bought all the
storage space, too.  Even though I technically own it, I’ve let him take his
time clearing out the Elm Street place.

“Well,
it’s clean and it’s empty,” Brady says.  “You still have a key?”

Since
I never messed with the original key ring when he handed it to me, I say yes.

“It
looks like you’re all set then.”  He pauses for a second.  “Business been
good?”

“Better
than ever,” I tell him honestly.  “All that snow sure helped this winter.”

“I
bet it did, I bet it did,” he repeats himself.  He had a habit of doing that
too, along with the pants thing.

We
talk for a few more seconds and when I hang up, Kevin looks at me.  “About damn
time.”

My
expression twists.  “Brady’s an old man.  Cut him some slack.  It’s not like we
needed the space.”

As
we get into his car, my brother says, “You’re right, but we’re still paying on
it.  We should swing by and see what we’re working with.  If we’re not going to
use the building, we should think about selling it.”

That’s
not a bad idea.

A
half hour later, we’re standing outside an old storefront downtown about a ten
minute drive from the main garage.  It’s located on the back side of a historical
building, almost like it was the rear entrance at some point.  The windows are
covered in aged brown paper, which is secured with yellowed strips of masking
tape that have lost their tack and are starting to hang.  Finding the only key
on my key ring I don’t use regularly, I open the door and step inside.

“Huh,’’
Kevin says as he follows me.  “I didn’t expect it to be this nice.”

“Right,”
I agree as I walk further inside.  The last time I was here, the place was
packed to the rafters with musty collectibles.  There was so much stuff, only one
aisle existed down the center of the room.

Brady
wasn’t kidding when he said he cleaned, either.  He must have hired a service. 
Very little dust exists anywhere and the drywall looks freshly painted.  Kevin
takes off toward the back of the store as I circle the perimeter of the room. 
It’s basically one large area, with a few doors in the back.

“Did
you know there was a bathroom here?”  My brother pops out of one of the doorways. 
“Looks like it needs work, though.”

I
make it to the other doorway and stick my head through.  “This could be an
office,” I say.

Kevin
joins me and eyes the smaller space.  “Think we’ll ever use it?”

I
shrug.  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Crossing
my arms, I turn and stare into the large empty room.  Sunlight streams through
the paper-covered windows, and the weathered hardwood floor looks like an angry
mob danced across it.

It’s
then the idea hits me, hard and square in the chest.

I
know what I’m going to do with this building.

~~~~

“Keep
your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

“I’m
serious.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t
open them until I tell you to.”

“I
said okay!” Addison huffs.  “You’re starting to freak me out.”

It’s
been a couple of days since I came up with my idea.  Despite my ability to do
whatever the hell I want, I ran it by Kevin just to gauge his reaction.  He
didn’t fight me, but he asked me to sleep on it.  He’s not one hundred percent sure
about my plan, although he says he understands.  Especially after I reminded
him about what an asshole Derek is.

“Stand
right here.”  My voice echoes as I position Sparrow by her shoulders in the
center of the room.

“Where
are we?” she asks.

“That’s
the surprise.”  I let go of her and take a few steps back.  “All right.  Open your
eyes.”

She
complies and blinks a few times to adjust her vision to the light.  She glances
around the vacant room that used to hold antiques, then turns her body to see
what’s behind her.  When all she’s greeted with is empty space, she pins me
with a confused look.  “You brought me to an abandoned building?”

“Does
it look abandoned?” I ask.  “I thought it was in pretty decent shape.”

She
starts to walk backward, away from me.  “I guess.”  Before she makes it too far,
she shoots me a sly smile.  “Bringing a girl to a strange place.  Are you planning
to kidnap me?”

Now
there’s an interesting thought.  My eyes light up.  “No.  But I think you’ll be
spending a lot of time here.” 

She
stops walking.  “Why?”

I
head over to the wall nearest to me and set my palm against it.  “How would
this wall look covered in mirrors?”

Her
face registers confusion.

I
set my hands on my hips and look down.  “The floor will need to be refinished,”
I say as I run my foot across it.  Then, I take a few steps and point to the
opposite side of the room.  “I thought that spot would make a good place for
the barre, but it’s up to you.  You’re the expert.”

Yeah.
 I’ve been doing some research.

Addison’s
eyes grow wide as I continue.  “I talked to Kevin, and his buddy Austin is into
sound systems.  He can wire the place, and I know a good plumber.”  I gesture
over my shoulder with my thumb.  “The bathroom back there is in pretty sad
shape.”

Her
mouth falls open.  “What are you saying?”

I
smile.  “Welcome to your studio.” 

It
takes a moment for my statement to register.  Her eyes bounce around the room
before landing on me.  “Are you serious?” she breathes.

I
nod.

Suddenly,
she launches herself across the room and jumps into my arms.  She wraps her hands
around my neck and her legs around my waist.  Thankfully, I catch her with only
a small stumble.  I turn us around once to catch my balance.

“How?”
she asks with her cheek pressed to my neck.

“I
own this place.”

She
leans back so we’re face-to-face and gives me a questioning look.  Quickly, I
explain Brady, his hobby, and what happened a few days ago.

“Are
you sure?” she asks.  “What about rent?  How much do I owe you?”

“You
don’t owe me anything.  I was paying on this building when it was stuffed with Brady’s
antiques.  What’s the difference if it’s your studio?”

“Kyle.” 
Her expression turns serious.  “I’m not using this building for free.”

“It
won’t be free,” I protest.  “There’s work to be done and utilities to pay. 
But, we won’t worry about it until things are up and running.”

She
removes her hand from the back of my neck and sets it against my jaw.  “Are you
sure?” she asks again, quietly this time.

Turning
my head, I kiss the inside of her wrist.  “I’ve never been more positive.  This
is your dream.”

Her
eyes soften and lock on mine.  She stares at me in disbelief, as if she couldn’t
possibly have heard me right.  After a second or two, her eyes dart to my mouth,
and I realize she’s barely breathing.  “What will happen if I kiss you?” she
whispers.

Only
a million amazing things.

She
leans forward and brushes her nose against mine, causing my heart to pound
wildly in my chest.  My lips are a centimeter from hers; they tingle with
anticipation.  Conscious of her legs wrapped around my body, of my hands
holding on to the backs of her thighs, I grip them tighter.  We stay like this,
hovering, breathing each other’s air, until I answer her question.

“I
won’t want to stop.”

She
closes her eyes and lets her forehead fall against mine.

“Not
the answer you wanted to hear?” I murmur.

She
shakes her head.  “No.  It’s perfect.”

“Then
why aren’t we kissing?”  Like I don’t know the reason.

Guilt,
thy name is Derek.

She
lifts her head and looks at me.  “Because I don’t think I’ll want to stop,
either.”

The
last thing we need is to regret this moment.  My decision to bring her here was
innocent; this is supposed to be the realization of her dream.  I know, without
a doubt, if something happens between us now, her guilt will crush her.