Eyes Turned Skyward - Page 49/107

Paisley threw her arms around me again, laughing. “That’s southern for ‘take the girl home.’”

“Gladly.” I looped my arm around her waist and walked out, collecting Masters in our wake. He unlocked the doors, and I boosted Paisley up.

“Sit with me?” she asked, and because I was stupid, or masochistic, whatever, I agreed. Truthfully, I was starved for her, and would take just about anything I could get. I buckled her in as Morgan and Masters took the front seats.

The lights along the highway illuminated her face as we left Panama City Beach. Leaving her lap belt on, she leaned over, put her head in my lap, and looked up at me. The music from the front seat made us feel isolated.

“Why do you want to fly so badly?”

Of all the questions she could have asked, at least this one I knew the answer to. “My father took me to an air show when I was ten, and there was an Apache there. The pilot put me in the cockpit and it just felt like…home. Like that was where I was meant to be. I remember looking up through the glass and seeing the rotors against the blue sky and thinking that was how I wanted to spend my life. Then the next year, on my birthday, my mom had a private ride set up for me. Not in an Apache, of course, but from that moment, that was all I ever wanted to do—fly.”

“‘For once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been and there you will long to return.’” She smiled softly. “Da Vinci.”

My thumbs slipped across her cheeks. “Yes, exactly like that.”

“Your mom, is she proud?”

My smile faltered. “Quid pro quo.”

“Of course.”

“Why are you so hell-bent on friends only? Is it because of Will?” If she was going for my deepest secrets, I was going for hers.

She let loose a huge sigh. “Ah, Will. It’s not so much about him. I mean, in a way. It would call my morals into question if I jumped from him to you, right? But more than that, I don’t want to distract you…or hurt you. Not knowing how badly you want to fly. It’s not that I don’t want you, Jagger. I’m just scared I’d destroy you.” She nuzzled the side of her face into my hand while I tried to recover. “Your mom?”

Of course. My instinct was to deflect, to kiss her into forgetting she’d asked, or to deny outright. But I wanted her. Every part of her. Which meant I was going to have to show her every part of me, even the ugly sides, and just pray she didn’t run. “She died when I was sixteen. Fell off her bedroom balcony and broke her neck on impact. It was the stupidest way for a woman like her to die. She was beautiful, and smart, and so…alive, always seeking out the next thrill, never content with, well, contentment. Oh, and she made the best brownies.” I left out the part where her white nightgown had been soaked in her blood when I looked over the banister.

“Oh my God, Jagger. I’m so sorry.”

I forged ahead, not letting the emotion in, but I wanted—needed her to know. “My father…he wasn’t around much, even when I was little. He showed up when he needed us, and left us to our own devices a lot of the time. Nothing changed after she died.”

“Is that why you left?”

My jaw flexed, and I ignored that one. We weren’t going near that…near Anna. “For my sixteenth birthday, my mom got me flying lessons. I took my final check ride the day I turned seventeen and legally became a commercial pilot.”

“You left the next day.”

“That’s why this is easy for me now. It’s never been just about flying, and always about Apaches.” I pressed my lips together to keep from telling her anything else.

“Thank you for tonight, for telling me.”

I stroked my fingers down her cheek, and let my thumb brush across her lips. “Happy birthday, Paisley.”

“One more question?”

“You’re killing me.” Damn those eyes and her ability to draw shit out of me.

“I know, but if you had your choice, with me…what would you choose?”

The alcohol made her bold.

“What do you mean?” I dodged.

“Friends? A relationship? A steamy fling? What?”

I swallowed, wishing she was sober for this kind of conversation. “You said just friends, and I’m trying to respect that. I know you just got out of a relationship.”

“What do you want?” she asked again, a little plea in her tone.

I stared down at her and saw the two possibilities clearly. I could leave my defenses intact, play the friends card and continue on. Or I could take a chance at being wrecked, burning myself to the ground. Who the hell was I kidding? I was already on fire for her. My heart had screamed out mine the moment I carried her from the water, and hadn’t quit since.

“Jagger?” her voice was softer.

Fuck it.

“I want everything, Paisley. I want your smiles, your laughs, your kisses. Yes, I want to be your friend, and more. I want to feel your arms around me at night, taste your kiss for breakfast, and I want to hear my name on your lips when I make you come apart. I want to study on the couch while you do your homework. I want to fight with you and make up with you. I want to shoulder the burdens you’re carrying, even the ones you still won’t tell me about, and I want…I want everything.”

She stared at me, tiny breaths exhaling from her parted lips. “And if I can’t give you that? If the most I can be is friends?”