Lost in Us (7 page)

"I'm glad you called," he says in a low voice that tells me he shares my yearning.

"Glad enough to go somewhere else?" I murmur half-joking, half-serious.

He stares at me intently for a few seconds, then lets go of my waist with a dead-serious expression. "Was that a booty call?"

"What? No. I just—I mean, I'd rather not fly." When he still looks unconvinced I add, "When you said it will be fun I thought that—" I stop mid-sentence because he bursts out laughing and pulls me toward him again. My cheeks burn.

"I meant sex? You're adorable." Something flutters joyfully in my stomach. He places a soft kiss on my cheek and then slides away, biting my earlobe. "Don't worry, there'll be plenty of it later," he whispers in my ear.

"I would never have taken you for the booty call type," he jokes.

"Remind me to introduce you to Jess sometime," I mumble as he lets go of me.

"Let's go," he urges and we start walking toward the only door along the fence. "The others have been waiting for a while already."

"
O
h," I exclaim, hurrying after him. The thought that we wouldn't be alone never crossed my mind.  As we slide between aircrafts, I wonder who exactly the others are.

My answer comes in an English accent. "You took your time, all right."

Parker appears in the doorway of the only plane with a ladder attached to it. Without his mask, the similarities between Parker and James are not so apparent anymore. Parker's cheekbones are more pronounced and his hair and eyebrows lighter; right now they're so arched they almost get lost in his hairline. I assume my unexpected presence is at fault for that. He recovers quickly, and smiles. "Lovely to see you again, Serena. Now, both of you get inside." He disappears from the doorway.

"James, I really don't think this is a good idea," I say, eying the small aircraft. It looks fancy and stylish, but I get grossly sick even on a Boeing 737. A tight knot forms in my throat. It can only get worse in this one.

"It's not as small as it looks," James says, looking at me amused.

"I—"

He puts his hand around my shoulders. "I'll find a solution if you get sick."

"I will get sick," I say but the reassurance in his tone made the knot in my throat loosen. I take one deep breath and start climbing the ladder.

He is right, the plane isn't that small. There are twice as many seats as I thought—six sleek leather chairs, arranged in three rows of two. All of their occupants wear an expression of stunned surprise, except Parker and the guy next to him, who's asleep, leaning on the window with his mouth hanging open. His shaved head reminds me of an egg.

"Everyone," James says, putting an arm over my shoulders, "I want you to meet Serena."

"Serena, you already know Parker. This is Thomas, Ralph—the one who's asleep—, Angela, Christie, and Natalie." My gaze freezes on the last face. Natalie is the lark. And she seems as happy to see me as I am to see her.

As I wave at everyone, I find myself inadvertently wondering if James was ever involved with Christie and Angela. They're both tall and attractive. Christie's got beautiful green eyes and blonde hair, and Angela resembles an angel more than anyone I've encountered in my life. I remind myself that it shouldn't matter if he did.

James gestures to the two seats on the row next to Christie and Natalie. I choose the window one and buckle my seatbelt the instant I sit down. James watches me chuckling. "Someone wake up Ralph," he says.

"God no, he's so much more fun when he's asleep," Christie says and everyone laughs, releasing some of the tension caused by my presence. 

"Where are we going?" I ask, realizing I still have no idea.

"Nowhere, unless you count the clouds as a destination," someone says from the back. Thomas I think. "And that wouldn't be acceptable unless you're high already." Another round of laughter.

I stare at James confused. He wears an ear-to-ear grin that for the first time doesn't look conceited. "We're skydiving," he says just as the plane starts moving.

"What?" I ask blankly. "Who's we?"

The plane is now at the speed at which my stomach usually starts performing those somersaults that precede violent rounds of vomiting. The front wheels unhitch from the runway and I sink deep in my seat, closing my eyes. And my mouth, just in case.

"It will be fun," James calls to me.

"You're mental if you think I'll jump," I say and quickly shut my mouth again. I dig my nails in the leather, waiting for the somersaults and cramps to start.

They don't. Who knew that being scared out of your wits is the remedy to airsickness?

When the seat belt sign rings I finally open my eyes, and find James watching me amused. 

"You need hours of training and practice and special equipment," I say, citing every possible reason that could convince him this is the worst idea ever. My desperation seems to have the opposite effect, because he's grinning even wider than before. "And you need guts," I add in a low voice.

James leans in, lifting my chin with his palm. "You have them," he says in an equally low tone, "you just need to let loose."

"Why aren't we ascending anymore?" the lark laments.

"We're only jumping from 7,000 feet today," James clarifies.

Natalie groans. "I wouldn't have bothered coming if I knew."

"I'll let you know next time," James says in a glacial tone, not looking away from me.

"So what do you say?" he inquires, his tone warm and soft again.

"I have a choice?"

He stares at me intently, without one hint of a smile. "You always do."

And maybe because I can’t bear disappointing him, or because I don't want to give the lark the satisfaction of witnessing my cowardly side firsthand, or because I truly lost my mind, I answer, "I'll do it."

His face breaks into a smile. "You'll love it." He unbuckles his seatbelt and gets up. "Let's get the equipment, Parker."

The equipment, as I find out five minutes later, consists of a heavy Supplex jumpsuit that covers my entire body, a helmet, and goggles. And a parachute, of course, but I don't get one because you truly need a lot of training to be able to steer it properly. I will jump with James. 

"How do you feel?" Parker asks, setting up my helmet. James is in the cockpit, talking to the pilot.

"Like an Eskimo," I answer. "Are you sure this isn't a skiing suit?"

He grins. "It gets quite warm, doesn't it?"

"Hot, actually."

"Don't worry about anything, okay? James's been doing this for years. We all have."

"I'm not worrying," I say.

I should be terrified, but I'm not even scared. Of course it could just be that I'm so paralyzed by fear I can't tell anymore. But it can't be. I wouldn't be feeling this lightness in my chest if I were paralyzed. I don't know what it is.

But it's not fear.

A piercing yelp at the back of the plane makes Parker and me jump.

"Damn it, Christie," Ralph bellows. He wipes his eyes, after Christie throws a glass of water in his face. "If you ever do that again—" 

"If you'd actually wake up like any normal human being I wouldn't have to do it. Put on your suit, we're jumping in five minutes."

Ralph gets up grunting, and snatches his equipment from Christie's arms before she turns to join Angela and Natalie at the back of the plane, as they help each other. Predictably, Ralph's eyes enlarge to the size of oranges when he sees me and I open my mouth to introduce myself, but he turns away and starts putting on his jumpsuit without a word.

"I got this, Parker," I say, adjusting the straps on my shoulders. "Go and put your helmet on."

"All right." He strides over to his seat and I unclasp my necklace because both Thomas and Angela warned me at least twice to take off all jewelry.

Crap. The moon-shaped pendant slides off the necklace and lands on the floor with a thump, rolling under the seats. I crawl on all fours, peeking under the chairs and locate it a few seconds later, not far from Parker's foot.

I freeze in the act of making a grab for it when I hear Ralph saying in a low voice, "Who's the new chick?"

"James's girl," Parker replies.

"Christ, he's gonna start bringing them to our group activities?"

"Shut it," Parker hisses.

Ralph says something I don't understand. But I do catch Parker's angry retort. "It's his plane. He can bring whoever he wants."

I smuggle back the pendant without either of them seeing me and return to my seat, smiling. I should be mad, but I'm flattered instead.

I'm the first woman he brought to the group.

"You look dashing," James says, reappearing from the cockpit.

"You're not so bad yourself," I say, but unlike him, I really mean it. Somehow, he manages to look hot even in the ridiculous suit.

"Come here." He stands behind me and sets up the belts and straps that connect us with sure hands as everyone comes to the front. "Serena and I will jump first," he announces and the lightness in my chest spreads to my stomach.

There's a metal bar just above the door that goes all the way to the front seats. James and I position ourselves next to the door and grab the bar, the rest lining up behind us.

"Ready?" he calls.

I barely nod when the door opens and James shoves me forward. In the blissful second between the first rush of cold air and my feet leaving the floor of the plane, I recognize what the lightness in my chest means.

Adrenaline. And freedom, in its purest form.

There is nothing except the cold air filling my lungs… my mind… everything… in the free fall. My body is as light as a feather, as quick as a bullet. I hurtle down fast, fast, fast, the clouds appearing in a swirl around me, then disappearing again. A violent pull ends the incredible velocity and starts a smooth descent—James opened the parachute. I gasp involuntarily, as I take my first deep breath.

"You okay?" he screams in my ear.

"Never better," I scream back, my heart still racing so frantically I'm afraid it might jump out of my chest. A twinge of regret weasels itself in—I liked the speed. A lot. But its absence has perks, like being able to finally take in the beauty around me. And it's breathtaking, all of it: the white, porous, unevenly shaped clouds floating around, the unending ocean and the red sun, preparing to sink in the blue waters in the distance, and even the mundane world below us—the highways and the golf club—looks almost perfect from here.

Parker, Thomas, and Ralph float around us, the girls higher. As we descend lower and lower, I find myself wishing we could go even slower.

But we don't, and we land faster than I'd hoped we would, in a rather large patch of sunburned grass right next to the airport. James undoes the connecting belts and straps almost immediately. The first few steps on the solid ground still feel like I’m floating.

"How was it?" James calls. He frees himself from the parachute and unzips his suit a little. We both throw down our helmets at the same time. The conceited smile on his face has an ecstatic air that I know must be apparent on my face as well.

"I loved it," I cry, unable to refrain myself from jumping up and down. "Can we go again?"

"Not today," he says, grinning widely. "It's really dangerous for you to try out new things. You always want more, don't you?"

I blush violently because I know he's not referring only to skydiving.

"Only if it's good," I answer and he bursts out laughing.

He grabs both my hands and pulls me into an embrace. "I was under the impression you found last Saturday more than good."

He entangles his fingers in my hair and pushes me against him for the first real kiss today. Passionate, fierce, almost desperate. It leaves me breathless and wanting more, cursing the suits and where we are.

"You're a wild little beast," he whispers, biting my lip.

Wild. Maybe.

Reckless. Yes.

That's how I behaved last Saturday and how I am behaving now. It's not the behavior itself that scares me. The fact that I chose to act this way scares me. I wanted to be reckless. And as I look into his eyes, and feel his hot breath on my lips, every inch of my body tells me that I don't want to stop being reckless.

I shiver at the dark thought creeping into my mind: Kate was reckless. How did it all start for her? A one-night stand, a jump from a plane? I can't remember right now. I don't want to remember. I press my lips to his again, losing myself in his passion—the raging fire that wipes away every thought.

And every wisp of breath.

"Damn. If all people would skydive, Pfizer would make no money on Viagra," Christie calls, and we break off.

We turn toward her, and all the others grouped around her, in various stages of removing their equipment—as if nothing happened.

"We voted earlier and
unanimously
decided we want to go to the Chinese restaurant downtown," Christie announces pompously.

"I'm with you if you want steak though, mate," Thomas says and Christie throws him a look that screams
traitor
.

"We won't be joining you." James puts an arm around my waist and kisses my temple. "I promised Serena there would be just the two of us the rest of the evening."