Today's Promises (11 page)

Despite making progress, there are still days, for both of us, when no amount of food is enough. But today I’m okay, and I assure Jaynie, “I’m just regular hungry. It was a bad joke on my part.”

She breathes a sigh of relief. And then there’s this moment of stilted silence, where I meticulously wrap up Swiss cheese and she fidgets with a stack of plates, straightening them all in until they’re in an even pile.

Reminders of the past, and the fact we’ve not yet erased our demons, always tend to dampen our moods.

But Jaynie seems determined to keep us forward-focused, when, in a cheery tone, she says, “Speaking of dinner, I can easily throw some ham and cheese sandwiches together. We can even press them into paninis if you want.”

I smile at her. “Yeah, that sounds like fun.”

She continues. “There’s also some leftover potato salad. We can finish that off too. I doubt it’ll stay good for much longer.”

“Works for me,” I reply.

Part of our rental agreement with Bill is that we’re allowed to eat anything we want from the sandwich shop. It works out nicely too, since we have no kitchen up in our room. Yet another reason why we need a larger apartment.

All in due time.
A car comes first.

After pressing paninis and polishing off two sandwiches each, along with that soon-to-expire potato salad—which actually tastes perfectly fresh to me—Jaynie and I move to the front of the store so we can watch the snow fall outside the big picture window facing the street.

We settle into one of the plushiest sofas, and nestling back against me, her auburn hair fanning out across my chest, Jaynie says, “It really is beautiful, Flynn.”

She means the snow, but I only have eyes for her.

Reaching down to lift a strand of her shiny hair, I hold it up to the light. As I admire all the shimmery hues of copper, I murmur, “Yes, definitely beautiful.”

She twists around to face me, her hair falling from my grasp like a liquefied precious metal. “I meant the snow, silly,” she says with a chuckle.

Urging her to lay face-down against me, I wrap my arms around her back. “I knew what you meant,” I say lightly. “But as pretty as the snow is I’d much rather look at you. You’re far more gorgeous.”

To me, that’s the God’s-honest truth. A lot of guys would serve up lines like that, well, as lines. But corny as it sounds I genuinely feel that way about Jaynie. I see the purest of beauty when I look at her.

“Flynn, Flynn, Flynn…” She rests her cheek against my chest, her fingers sliding beneath the hem of my shirt. A move made simply to give us more of the skin-to-skin contact we never stop craving. “Did I tell you I love you yet today?”

“Maybe this morning,” I reply. “But tell me again. I never get tired of hearing it.”

“I love you,” she says.

Three simple words composed of three syllables. How amazing it never ceases to be when I hear them pass Jaynie’s lips. Those words hold the power to lift me up, to soothe my soul, and to make me a better man.

And that’s what Jaynie deserves—the best me that I can be.

Jaynie

I
t takes some fancy talking, but I finally succeed in convincing Flynn that we should ditch the sandwich shop for a couple hours and go out and play in the snow.

“Are you crazy?” he says initially. “I walked from the bus stop, remember? It’s not only a pain to get around in all that snow, but it’s freaking cold as hell out there.”

“Oh, come on.” I tug at him, urging him up from the sofa. “Live a little. We can wear lots of layers. And besides, it’s April. This is probably the last big snow till next year.”

“How can I argue with reasoning like that,” he then says.

Fifteen minutes later, bundled up and ready for the Arctic, we find ourselves outside in a wintry wonderland. The snow still falls, fast and furious, but we’re making the most of it. No traffic in the streets means we’re able to start an impromptu snowball fight, right outside the front of the shop.

I get in a few nice hits right away, then I zigzag my way across the road to the other side. When Flynn proceeds to lob a succession of icy white balls my way, I run around the side of the building and make a getaway.

My plan is to flee to the nearby park.

“Hey, no fair,” I hear him calling out to me as I run off, his voice fading as I break into a sprint. “You’re way out of firing range.”

“You’re damn right I am,” I holler back.

I don’t know if he hears me, but I pick up speed, just in case he’s gaining on me. It’s hard to see with all the falling snow.

Sure enough, Flynn, who is far faster than I am, catches up to me in no time, just as I’m about to enter the park.

Giving up hope that I can escape him—at least for the moment—I spin around and fall into his arms. “Okay, you win,” I say, breathless, as I peer up at him.

Chuckling, he nods to the woodsy entrance. “You still want to play in the park?”

“Yeah,”—I nod—“sure.”

Leaning down like he’s about to whisper some sweet nothing in my ear, he murmurs, “I call for a rematch in the park. And maybe, if I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you win this time.”

“Oh, really?” I twist out of his grasp and bump his hip with mine. “I see how you are. You think I can’t win against you fairly. You think that you’re way faster.”

He cocks his head to the side, like he’s finding this whole exchange amusing. “I
am
way faster, Jaynie,” he says smugly. “You simply can’t win on your own.”

“Pfft, we’ll see about that,” I scoff. And then I take off, leaving him in the dust. Or in the snow, as it is.

“Jaynie, Jaynie,” I hear him call out.

I run faster, but it’s not easy to gain traction in all the snow. It’s far heavier in the park than out in the streets. My boots carry me as fast as they can, however, and I make a few elusive moves, ducking under branches heavy with snow, and to areas where the pines are thick and Flynn won’t easily see me.

Still, I can hear him laughing not all that far way. I don’t even know if he’s searching for me at the moment. I think he’s just feeling free, like me, seeing as we’ve never had carefree fun like this. Even when we snuck off at the Lowry place, there was always the fear of getting caught and facing retribution.

But not anymore.

I stop for a minute and just peer up at the night sky. Snowflakes land on my face, melting as they do. A few even hit my eyes, making me blink. I put out my tongue and find out what snow tastes like. “Nothing,” I decide. “It tastes like nothing.”

“Oh, Jaynie,” Flynn sings out, with a tone that indicates he clearly believes he’s won. “Looks like I’ve got you now.”

“Hey, think fast,” I yell as I lob a handful of snow at him.

I take off, and the race is on.

The snow is so deep where I’ve turned that soon I’m slipping and sliding down a pristine-white slope that looks like it leads down to the river. Ironically, it’s the same river that brought me to Lawrence nearly six months ago.

Wow, this night is so different than that one
.

Back then I was running for my life, whereas this night, I’m running for fun.

With a feeling of freedom that leaves me dizzy, I clamber down to the river. I sense Flynn is not far behind, but he’s letting me enjoy this moment.

Soon enough, however, I hear him laughing.

He’s definitely really closing in, so I juke left, then right.

And then I hear nothing.

“Hey, where’d you go?” I say as I spin around.

I see then that Flynn has fallen not too far away from where I’ve stopped. It looks like he may have slipped and crashed into a giant snow drift.

“Ha, serves you right,” I call over to him as I place my hands on my hips.

I’m totally teasing, but when he starts to groan, his falling isn’t so funny anymore.

I run over to him. “Crap, Flynn, are you really hurt?”

“Ow, ow, fuck yes,” I am told.

Flynn bends his leg, bringing his knee to his chest. He grabs at it and says, “I think I hurt myself really bad here. I twisted something, for sure. And fuck…it hurts like a mother.”

I drop to my knees and cover his hand with mine. “God, I am so sorry, Flynn. Do you think if I try to support your weight you can stand up?”

“I don’t know,” he says, grimacing. “Maybe.”

“Just tell me what to do,” I cry out, feeling helpless.

He smacks at the snow on the far side of his prone body and says, “Why don’t you try putting one foot over here.”

This is puzzling already, but a say, “All right.”

Unsure how it is even remotely helpful, I place my booted foot where he indicated, leaving me hovering over his body. At that weird angle, I have no choice but to hold myself up so I don’t fall on top of him.

“Now what should I do?” I ask.

“Keep that foot there, and lower yourself to your knee that’s on this side of me.”

I do as he asks.

And then I’m saying, “Um, this is really awkward.” I frown down at him. “Tell me again how this is helping you get up?”

He ignores me and continues with more of his convoluted directions. “Okay, now place your hands up on either side of my head.”

Once I comply with that directive, I’m straddling him.

And that’s when he begins to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I say. “I thought you were hurt.”

“Gotcha,” he murmurs as he reaches up to caress my cold cheek.

“Flynn”—I smack his chest—“you’re such an ass.”

I’m not mad, not in the least. This is the kind of silly fun we never had in the past. And soon I am laughing right along with him. When I’m near hysterics, I fall to my side into the mushy snow.

Once I’ve recovered from my laughing attack, I roll to my side in time to catch Flynn making a snow angel.

As his legs and arms plow through the heavy snow, I prop myself up on an elbow and ask him what I already know, “What the hell are you doing, you foolish guy?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” he volleys back.

Before I can answer, he says, “Just get over here and join me. We can make a snow angel couple.”

I join him without hesitation, as I’m already reminded of one of our best memories from the past.

“This is like the day you made the pine-needle angel,” I say, a reference to one of the first times we were ever alone together.

There was a place up in the woods on the Lowry property that we designated early on as all ours. A beautiful copse of tall pines encircled our secret spot, with soaring cliffs nearby. We dreamt of escape up there. And then I
did
escape when I jumped from one of the cliffs. But before that time came, that was where Flynn and I would go to shut out the world.

Someday I want to go back there with him, to our secret spot. Someday I know we’ll need to go back, in order to move on.

But until that day, we have the here and now. And Flynn is saying, “This is better than the day I made the pine-needle angel.”

I slow my movements to a stop. “Why do you think that?” I ask, curious.

He sits up. “This time we’re not hiding. There’s no need to run. We have nothing to escape. This is just you and me doing what we want.”

He’s right. He’s so damn right.

“It feels good, Flynn,” I say as I stretch my arms way above me. “It feels really, really good. God, I want to stay out here and play with you all night.”

Leaning toward me, and then slowly rolling on top of me, he whispers seductively, “So, let’s stay and play.”

Flynn

U
nfortunately, it’s too damn cold to stay in the park and play. Well, let’s just say it’s too chilly for what I have in mind.

Once I have Jaynie back in our room, however, all bets are off.

Wet, snow-covered clothes are peeled from our bodies and scattered across the hardwood floor. There’s giggling and fumbling as we fall onto our bed.

Damn, Jaynie’s damp skin pressed to my own cool flesh feels so fucking erotic. There’s just something about being cold in some places…and really warm in others.

“Are you warm enough, baby?” I whisper as I press my cheek to hers.

“Mmm, I am, Flynn. I am.” She writhes beneath me.

“Are you wet?” My voice is raw and husky when I ask her that. She groans, and I add, “You are, aren’t you?”