Lincoln, son, you probably won’t ever skydive again. The landing itself could re-break your legs, and who knows if they’ll even properly heal. I sneered, annoyed. He didn’t even know the difference between BASE jumping and skydiving.
And then it was time for one of the worst parts of my day. I braced myself against the nightstand as I slowly put weight onto my legs, pushing up and off the bed. Pain threatened to overwhelm me, but I grunted and ignored it as I slowly stabilized, the excruciating lightning slowly fading to the dull ache that wouldn’t go away no matter how much rehab I did. I moved my hand from the nightstand and grabbed the cane that I had left propped up against the wall and moved it forward, taking a step.
It hurt like hell. But at least I was up and out of the wheelchair and hobbling around on my own power. I didn’t need anything to help me out of bed, let alone to help me shower or brush my teeth. I couldn’t have imagined Aubrie seeing me like that, shattered legs, unable to do anything on my own. That was pathetic, and I wasn’t the type of guy to let people take care of me.
I moved across the room and into the bathroom. Every time I stopped in front of a mirror and saw my tattooed body, and the cane I had to use to help me walk, I couldn’t help but reflect on how stupid it had been to go through with that jump.
True, it had been fucking amazing, one of the best jumps of my life, but it had cost so damn much. Crashing into that car, the agony, and then waking up the next day in the hospital surrounded by lawyers and cops all wanting to know how I got up to the top of that building and did I know I broke a hundred different laws and blah blah, all a bunch of bullshit.
I did have one lucky thing happen, though. During the trial, Aubrie’s dad showed up and asked the judge to let me off lightly. In the end, I got probation for breaking and entering, and part of that probation was living under Cliff’s supervision. But at least I wasn’t going back to prison.
I brushed my teeth, took a quick shower, and got dressed. It took me way longer than it should have, since walking was a chore, but I had no regrets. I would rather break my legs a hundred more times than live like everyone else, floating through the days, practically still asleep.
I was alive up there, in the air.
Finally, after what felt like forever, I was dressed and clean and ready for the day. I checked the clock as I headed downstairs and inwardly groaned when I realized that I only had an hour before PT and the camera crew. I gimped my way downstairs, wincing at every slow step, and made my way into the kitchen.
Sitting at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal and looking like she just woke up, was Aubrie. She glanced up as I entered, and I gave her a big grin, a strange feeling welling its way up through my chest.
I hadn’t seen her in years. Not since our parents got married, not since that aborted attempt at whatever it was that went on between us that night. We hadn’t so much as kept in touch, which was probably because she was too busy being a huge dork at Notre Dame, and I was too busy being a badass that jumped off buildings. Or at least, so I told myself.
The truth was, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her over the years. I hadn’t stopped imagining her perfect, pale-smooth skin, her beautiful body, and that pouty look she gave me whenever I teased her too much. We had danced for hours that night at the wedding, our bodies close and sweating, despite the fact that we were suddenly related.
And then there was the balcony back at her dad’s big house, after the reception, after everyone had gone home.
Her skin in the moonlight. Her lips, the way they parted when I got close.
I had jumped off some of the most intense and terrifying places in the world. I had spent months in jail. But none of that compared to the feeling I had for those brief moments. And there she was, suddenly back in my life, looking exactly as gorgeous as she used to