never been the type of guy for chit chat anyway,” giving in.
“What do you mean?”
“I go deep.”
A smile flickers at the sexual joke she wants to make. It makes me grin for a second, but we lose the smiles.
I hold her patient gaze. “We forgot the beers, Cherry.”
“Oh!” She digs them out of the bag, hands me one bottle to twist open, and takes care of the other for herself. “To going deep.”
I repeat the toast, “To going deep.”
The clink pings off walls and returns to us. Staring at each other, we take a drag. She holds her bottle and I set mine on the old metal desk we chose as our table. Licking my lips, I exhale, inhale, and say what I haven’t said aloud to myself or anyone all week. “This is the one year anniversary of my sister’s suicide.”
Shocked tears jump to Lexi’s green eyes. “Oh my God, Gage, no!”
“Afraid so,” I rasp, setting the bottle down, glass on metal echoing, too.
Lexi turns off her speaker, staring at it as tears fall down her cheeks. Wiping them, she explains, “I’m so close to Sammy, just the thought of losing a sister…”
My ribcage tightens.
Lungs burning.
Her emotion pulls mine.
I don’t want it to.
Can’t go there.
It’s too easy to stay.
Rising slowly, Lexi gazes at me as she walks up and bends to move my legs away from the desk, straddling my lap and embracing me.
I bury my grief in her neck, breathe in her sweet-smelling hair and kindness.
“I’m so sorry, Gage.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She tightens the hug, and I do the same, sitting together like this for who knows how long.
When we pull back to look at each other, Lexi stays here with me, hands on my triceps, mine on her hips as she asks, “What was her name?”
I grimace, “Heather,” adding, “I haven’t said her name in months. Makes it fucking real.”
“I’ve always loved that name,” Lexi offers, voice soft.
“Mom and Dad wanted a boy and a girl. They had our names picked out before either of us were even a glint. They liked how Heather and Gage sounded together. Two syllables and one. Nice balance.”
Lexi smiles, “They do have a nice ring.”
I release her left hip to rub my eye. “Yeah…”
“Why did she do it? Do you mind my asking? We don’t have to talk about it more if you don’t want. I mean that.”
Dropping my hand I stare at Lexi’s necklace, a tiny rose-gold outline of a heart. “She struggled with depression. Didn’t believe she was all the things I told her she was. Heather kept comparing herself to other people — even fucking strangers. She couldn’t…couldn’t… I don’t know. I’m not a fucking psychologist.”
“Strangers?”
“Social media.”
Lexi whispers, “Oh.”
I lift her off of me, “Let’s eat before it gets even colder.”
“You want to listen to music?”
I nod, hook my index finger around the top of my beer and take a sip, staring at the desk as Lexi swipes through playlists. “That’s what you meant by a rough week.”
“You took my mind off it.”
She winks at me, smile tender, “I’m good for that.”
I lean back in my chair, metal surface sturdy despite its years. “You sure are.”
With her head down she whispers, “Sorry I made you talk about it, Gage.”
“No, all good.”
She meets my eyes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I inhale and watch her push the button on her speaker again. “Just don’t wanna wallow in it.”
“That’s right,” Lexi smiles, green eyes warm. “How about some Bee Gees?”
“Bee Gees?! No!”
Chuckling to herself, she turns on the better speaker, taps on her phone, and watches me recognize Led Zeppelin’s Over The Hills and Far Away.
On a grin I admit, “You got me.”
She walks over and plants a kiss that grows, coaxed by the opening guitar riff and eventual lyric — Hey lady. You got the love I need. You got more than enough…
Lexi releases me, backs away, holding my gaze with a look that tells me to keep watching. She begins to dance, making use of the cavernous space in this erotic, sensual way, Zepplin’s classic harmonies guiding every trained movement of her body.
It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen. She abandons herself, becoming the song like there’s no separation. It’s breathtaking, and I shift in my seat to follow her. When she runs the length of the warehouse, and does near-splits in the air, my own legs flex with tension. But she gracefully lands, spins twice without effort.
Swaying her torso, eyes closed, she turns, and breaks into this graceful run in the other