Courtney Cole - Until We Fly

He shrugs. “I don’t think it serves any purpose to talk about it. Some memories are best left alone. I’ve dealt with it and moved on, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy thinking about it.”

There’s a look on his face, a don’t fuck with me look, that I decide to heed. “Your turn,” I tell him softly instead. He nods.

He moves a checker, only to open himself up to a double-jump. I crow and jump him. Twice. He glares at me mockingly.

“I don’t like this game.”

I giggle. “I get two questions.”

He doesn’t argue, he just crosses his arms and waits.

“There’s something bothering you, I see it on your face. I have a feeling that it’s not your dad’s death, and you say you’ve dealt with Afghanistan, so what is it?”

Brand looks away. “I really don’t like this game.”

I smile, but I don’t back off. “What’s your answer?”

He stares out the window for a minute, at the lake, before he sighs. “Sometimes bad things happen in life. Sometimes they happen when you’re really young. Those are the memories that won’t fade with time.”

I’m stunned. It’s a vague answer, but it’s still oh-so revealing. Something happened to him when he was a kid, something bad.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask gently.

Brand looks at me. “That was your second question, you know.”

I nod. “That’s fine. What’s your answer?”

He shakes his head immediately. “No. I don’t want to talk about it. I’m a grown fucking man, not a pussy. I don’t need to talk about it.”

“Yet it still bothers you,’ I state simply.

“There’s no fix for it,” he tells me firmly. “My father’s dead. I guess that’s all the closure I need.”

I’m doubtful as I stare at Brand’s gorgeous face. His gorgeous, tortured face. He doesn’t have closure. I can see that right now. I don’t know what to think about his family situation. He doesn’t seem to be grieving, but he’s still troubled about something. Deeply troubled. But I can also see that he’s done talking about it.

“Your turn,” I say instead. He goes. I go.

After he goes again, I manage to jump him.

“What do you do for a living?”

He grins, pretending to be relieved, only maybe it’s not an act. I can tell he doesn’t like to talk about himself. At all.

“Gabe and I started a company together a couple of years ago. We developed military grade body armor. We started the company to keep soldiers safer, but it’s also being used by police departments and private security details.”

“That sounds amazing,” I tell him softly. And it sounds like exactly something he would do… keeping people safe. He shrugs.

“It’s a living.”

He pushes away from the little table. “I’m about done in for the day,” he tells me. “Thank you for going to get dinner, Nora. And I’m sorry you’re not happy. Hopefully you can figure that out soon.”

He hobbles away and I have to agree with the sentiment.

Hopefully I can figure that out soon.

Nora

I put away the checkers, and boot up my laptop, checking a few emails. My mother has written four.

You’re only five minutes away. Can’t you come home for tea soon?

Your father isn’t happy about your current situation.

Yeah, what’s new?

But it’s her last email that sends ice water through my veins, chilling every part of me.

William called yesterday, wanted to know where you were. He said you weren’t returning his phone calls and that he had some business related questions for you. I told him where you are, but told him that you were taking the summer off. I hope that was okay.

I take a ragged breath.

Then another.

I told him where you are.

He knows where I am.

With shaking fingers, I answer her email.

I’m sorry. Like I told you the other day, I feel responsible for Brand. He got injured because of me. I’ll definitely come home soon for tea. It’s okay that you told William where I am. I’m sure he just has a simple question or something.

It’s not okay. Not at all.

But she doesn’t know what he did.

I hit ‘send’ and close my laptop.

As I walk through the house, I find Brand sitting in front of the windows again. Instead of staring out at the lake, his gaze is firmly fixed on the box his mother had brought. It stands out starkly against the white wood that it’s sitting on.

He’s staring at it so intently that he doesn’t even realize I’m watching him.

The look on his face is painful. Intent, hurt, vulnerable.

I can only imagine what might’ve happened to him in the past. But from the way he’s staring at that freaking box, it must have something to do with his father.

With a sigh, I continue on to the kitchen to make some hot tea.

I guess we both have secrets.

I keep mine closed away in the furthest, darkest place in my heart. I’m sure Brand does the same. I’m also sure that I’ll never know about them until he’s good and ready to share.

Sipping at my tea, I slouch in a kitchen chair. Looking around, I try and imagine the days when this cozy little cabin was bustling with life. Apparently, Jacey and Gabe spent every summer here with their grandparents, and Brand was here a lot.

Because I’d done a little bit of digging, I know that Brand’s parents’ house is just down the road. When we drove here, he didn’t even point it out.

There’s bad blood there, obviously. I just can’t imagine what a guy like him could possibly have done to make his own parents turn on him.

The sound of the shower running jars me from my thoughts and I look up in alarm. Brand isn’t supposed to get the dressings on his thigh wet. God, he’s stubborn.

I leap out of the chair and sprint down the hall, throwing open the bathroom door.

Brand is completely naked, balanced against the bathroom sink as he prepares to maneuver himself into the shower.

He’s surprised to see me, and I’m frozen as I stare at him.

He’s absolutely beautiful naked.

It’s like he’s been sculpted from marble by a skilled master. Michelangelo, perhaps. I suck in a breath, unable to take my eyes away from him.

Rippled abs.

Chiseled pecs.

Thighs like steel.

And then, then…

My eyes travel south.

Dear Lord.

Brand clears his throat. “My eyes are up here, Miss Greene.”

I flush a thousand shades of red as I yank my gaze up to meet his. His eyes are filled with amusement…at my expense.

He lifts an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

“You’re not supposed to shower,” I stammer. “You’re supposed to sponge off this week. Remember?”

Brand rolls his eyes with a sigh.

“I don’t need to remember. Apparently you remember for me.”

I toss him a towel and regrettably, he wraps it around his hips, hiding his glorious body before he grabs his crutches.

“I don’t have the first clue how to take a sponge bath,” he grumbles as he limps past me.

“Me either,” I tell him. “But we can figure it out.”

We.

The butterflies start flying again, hard and fast, in my stomach. Brand turns to look at me.

“We?”

I nod. “Yeah. What kind of nurse would I be if I didn’t help? Go lie down on your bed. I’ll be there in a minute with the stuff.”

Brand rolls his eyes and mutters beneath his breath, but he hobbles away. I rush to the kitchen and get a huge bowl of warm water before I stop at the hall closet for washcloths, towels and soap. My hands shake the entire time.

What the hell am I doing?

Why is he letting me do it?