The Other Side of Someday (25 page)

“What? My laugh?” I giggled nervously.
 

“No.” He leaned down, his six-foot-plus frame towering over me. A rush spread through me when his lips grazed my neck. The hair on my nape stood on end, my skin hypersensitive to every touch of his fingers, every caress of his breath. “Your essence,” he murmured. “Your heart. Your vitality. I want to get to experience that again.”

My eyes fluttered and I was completely weak in the knees. You know those movies where the heroine swoons in a dramatic fashion and the hero has to catch her? Well, if Owen wasn’t already supporting me, I was pretty sure that would have been me. However, based on my propensity for injuring people, I probably would have fallen to the ground, and not in an endearing manner. It would have been ass over tea kettle.

Hmmm… My tea kettle is yellow.

“Bananas are yellow,” I mumbled as I craned my neck, giving him permission to explore my skin further.
 

“What?” Where his lips were a second before was now cold and vacant.

“Nothing.” I opened my eyes. “Sorry. I was somewhere else for a minute.”

“A good somewhere else, or somewhere else because you didn’t enjoy yourself tonight?”

Softening my expression, I allowed a small, coy smile to cross my lips. “A good somewhere else,” I breathed against his mouth.

“Good. You had me worried there.”

Our eyes remained locked, horns honking as cars sped down Ocean Avenue.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, his lips just out of reach of mine.

“Which was?”

“Can I see you again? I’d really like—”

“Yes,” I exhaled before he could finish his sentence. “I’d like that.”

“I was hoping you’d say that, love.” He leaned down, his lips brushing mine momentarily. “I had a wonderful time getting to know you, Baylee. Can’t wait to find out even more.” He pulled back, leaving me somewhat frustrated. It was an amazing kiss for what it was, but after all the buildup, I was expecting more. I didn’t want to make-out with him on the city street, but a little respectful tongue would have been nice. Hell, the way his sinful tone caressed my name, his strong arms pulled me to him, and his forceful and dominant demeanor, I anticipated an intense, passionate exchange.

“Baylee?” he said as I remained deep in thought, dissecting our first lackluster kiss. “Is this your car?”

I looked to see my little red BMW idling in front of us. I nodded.

Owen held the door open and tipped the valet attendant for me. “I’ll call you this week. Good night.”

“Night,” I mumbled as he closed my door. All this dating was putting my libido into overdrive. I considered Googling the address for the closest sex shop on my way home.

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

O
N
S
ATURDAY
,
A
LIGHT
knock sounded on my door mid-morning as I was sitting on my couch, staring at the whitecaps of the ocean. So far, I was having the best birthday I could remember in a long time. I had met Sebby that morning and, in addition to my coffee, he brought me a blueberry muffin with a candle in it. To most, it wouldn’t seem like much, but to a girl who was used to practically everyone forgetting about her birthday, it meant everything.

I spent the rest of my morning writing, but nothing seemed to stick. I had written and deleted more pages than I could remember. I felt like I was losing the inspiration I had when I first started this project. It had been a few days since I had crossed an item off my mother’s bucket list and I wondered if that was why I was feeling blocked.

Getting up from my couch, I made my way to the front door and pulled it open, only to be greeted by Sebby’s cocky smirk.

“Sebby.” I leaned against the doorjamb, imitating his confident demeanor. “To what do I owe this visit? I thought you had to work today.”

“I lied.” He shrugged. “Go put on something comfortable. We have plans.”

“Plans?” I raised my eyebrows.

“That’s what I said. It’s your birthday, and it’s my goal to make it one you’ll never forget.”

I hesitated. “I already have plans with Owen later.”

His expression fell momentarily before he recovered. “I’ll have you home in time for your date. Don’t worry.”

My curiosity getting the better of me, I stepped back, allowing him to enter my condo. Sport dashed to him, showering him with all the love he typically reserved for me. I was used to it at this point. Over the weeks, Sebby had become like a second father to my little man.

I clambered up the stairs, almost tripping as I neared the top, and headed into my bedroom. As I rummaged through my closet, not knowing what to wear, other than something comfortable, I considered what Sebby had planned. I was happy to spend my birthday on my couch, toiling over my half-written manuscript. I never anticipated Sebby would knock on my door and drag me out to do God knows what. All I knew was it would be a day I wouldn’t soon forget.

The truth was, even if we did nothing, a day with Sebby was always one I wouldn’t soon forget.

“Get a move on, Baylee!” Sebby shouted up the stairs. “We don’t have all day!”

“Right.” I snapped out of my unhealthy preoccupation with my neighbor and refocused on my closet. I grabbed some jeans and a light sweater, finishing the look with a pair of Converse. I hoped this was appropriate for whatever Sebby had planned.

“Ready for this?” he asked when I bounced back down the stairs and into the living room.

“I’m not sure. If you tell me what we’re doing, I’ll let you know.”

“It’s a surprise.” Winking, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my condo. As we walked toward the elevator, he didn’t drop my hand and I didn’t make any motions to pull it out of his grasp.

We didn’t speak a word as we rode down to the lobby, our hands still glued together, Sebby running his thumb across my knuckles. It was so light, barely noticeable, like it was second-nature. His scent filled the small space and I sidestepped closer to him, wanting to eliminate all distance between us. I didn’t know what it was about elevators, but it was taking all my resolve not to throw caution to the wind and find out how his lips tasted.

Finally, the doors opened and Sebby dropped my hand, my sanity returning due to the absence of his touch. Steeling myself, I followed him through the lobby. When he held the door open for me, I expected to see his Camaro waiting for us with a valet attendant standing by. Instead, the porte-cochere was void of any car.

“Let’s go, Baylee,” Sebby called out. I turned to see him hopping onto a vintage BMW motorcycle, holding a helmet and a leather jacket toward me.

I took a few cautious steps, eyeing the motorcycle with hesitation. I had never been on one before and I was certainly on edge about ending up splattered on the pavement. I trusted Sebby. I just didn’t trust the rest of the drivers in LA.

“Come on,” he urged. “Don’t worry. We’re only going to be on the freeway for a second, then on PCH.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’re not going to find out until we get there. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Masking my excitement with an annoyed sigh and an eye roll, I approached the motorcycle and grabbed the helmet and jacket from Sebby. “More like you don’t want me to head back to my condo,” I muttered, zipping up the jacket, then securing the helmet on my head.

“Pretty much.” The engine roared to life as I climbed on. “Now, hold on tight.”

I wrapped my arms around his mid-section, certain I was cutting off his circulation, and before I could change my mind, he pulled onto Ocean Avenue. At first, it wasn’t so bad. There was a stoplight practically every block, so the bike never broke thirty miles an hour. Then he veered off the main drag, merging onto the freeway momentarily before it ended, dumping onto PCH.

There was a fair bit of traffic on the four-lane road abutting the coast of California, which I was more than happy about. As Sebby weaved between the lanes at a cautious speed, I absorbed my surroundings. To my right, majestic mountains rose into the sky. To my left, sun-glistened ocean waves stretched for miles. Too soon, traffic began to dissipate and stoplights grew more infrequent. Shoreline skyscraper hotels and condos gave way to smaller houses, which probably still cost several million dollars.

Increasing his speed, Sebby zoomed up the road, making me tighten my hold around his waist.

“How ya doing back there?” he shouted in response to my death grip.

“Fine,” I answered quickly, shutting my eyes. I figured if I couldn’t see how fast the cars on the opposite side of the road were racing by, it wouldn’t be as bad.

“Relax, Baylee.” The motorcycle slowed to a stop at a light. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Riding on a motorcycle is all about feeling free, having the world at your fingertips. Stop worrying and just enjoy yourself.”

Taking a deep breath, I loosened my grip and lifted my head away from Sebby’s back, where I had buried it. When the light turned green, I fought my instinct to close my eyes and wait until we arrived at our destination to reopen them. Instead, I took in the sights, the smells, the feel of the California shoreline. The coastal area of Malibu soon gave way to a more mountainous terrain, and I marveled at my surroundings.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sebby asked, noticing I had relaxed my grip.

“Yes,” I answered just as he turned off PCH and navigated his motorcycle up one of the mountain passes.

The road slowly climbed and curved through the dips and valleys of the terrain. Gorgeous, sprawling estates appeared every so often, and I gazed in awe at the view of the Pacific Ocean from this altitude. The water rippled and rolled as it always did, but up this high, it went on and on, disappearing into the horizon. I tried to come up with a way to adequately explain how I felt on the back of Sebby’s bike, the wind in my face, the sun on my skin, the world wrapped around me, but words escaped me. I felt free, adventurous.

I know it sounded crazy and maybe a little melodramatic, but on the back of that bike, up in those mountains, I felt my mother’s spirit surrounding me. I grew up in a semi-religious household. Church was an every Sunday thing. I never bought into any of it, though. I never understood why you had to go to a building to be saved. That moment reinforced my beliefs. I felt something out on that road, something stronger and more awe-inspiring than I ever did within the four walls of the church.

Drawing in a long, relaxing breath, I leaned my head back and stared at the sky above me. A few white clouds added a pleasing texture to the otherwise endless blue canvas. Regardless of what Sebby had planned for the afternoon, this was already the perfect day.

The road continued to climb, and just when I thought we couldn’t go any higher without requiring oxygen, the path dipped and we began our descent. After about ten minutes of navigating down the mountain, we were back among civilization once more, gas stations and fast food restaurants popping up. The euphoric feeling I had experienced back on the mountain was gone. I now understood why people disappeared to the middle of nowhere to get away from it all. Maybe that was what I needed to do to finish my book.

Soon, Sebby veered the motorcycle onto a somewhat hidden street and, after about a mile, we pulled past an open chain-link gate and drove toward what looked like a small airplane hangar.

“Where are we?” I asked as Sebby parked the motorcycle by the entrance to the building.
 

“We’re here,” he answered, killing the engine and hopping off his bike, helping me find my footing. My legs and arms vibrated from sitting on the back of his bike for so long. Surprisingly, I loved it.

“I understand that,” I began, taking my helmet off, “but where exactly is here?”

“You’ll see. This way.” He gestured to a door toward the rear of the hangar, a sign that said
Main Office
hanging over it. It was a gray metal building that looked like it would collapse if you sneezed too hard. The large bay doors at the front of the hangar were wide open, revealing a small plane. A sinking feeling formed in my stomach and I wanted to turn around and hop back on the motorcycle.

Then again, I had overcome that fear rather quickly. No matter what awaited us inside that beat up airplane hangar, I knew I would be okay.

Approaching Sebby as he held the door open for me, I stepped over the threshold into a small waiting room with a desk and several chairs, practically jumping out of my skin when five of my closest friends screamed “surprise”.

My hand flew to my chest and I let out a small gasp. “What are you all doing here?” I was met by the excited faces of Sophia, Marcel, Lacey, Darren, and Cora. “What am
I
doing here?”

“We’re here to celebrate your birthday!” Marcel announced.

 
I glanced at Sebby, giving him an incredulous look, waiting for an explanation. He smiled at me, revealing those boyish dimples I had been attracted to since our first meeting.

“And
you’re
here to do something to make this a birthday you’ll never forget,” he said. “I know you’ve been avoiding crossing this one off your mother’s list, so we all decided to do it with you.”

“Do what?” I scanned the small office, wishing I could ignore all the clues. I was surrounded by posters of people plunging to their deaths from an airplane, happy little clouds in the background.
 

There was no avoiding it anymore…

Today, I would skydive.

~~~~~~~~~~

A
FTER
SITTING
THROUGH
SEVERAL
hours of videos and instruction detailing exactly what fate awaited us, we all suited up in our jumpsuits and were paired with a certified skydiver, whom we would each be strapped to for the jump. I had contemplated backing out at least a dozen times over the course of the afternoon, but I knew I couldn’t. All of my friends were going through this with me. If they were scared, they did a good job of hiding it…laughing, joking around with each other. Hell, Lacey was talking about getting a new tattoo to memorialize her first skydiving experience.