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Nothing about being with Lucky was simple. But at the same time, there had been this strange sense of rightness when I'd held him in my arms. He'd fit me so perfectly, like his body had been made for mine and mine for his. His trust… that had been what had done me in. He’d trusted me to take care of him without even asking. And in those minutes after I'd come and I'd lain in his embrace, I’d trusted him too.
For the first time in a long time, I'd felt taken care of.
Tag cleared his throat at the back of the room, reminding me of where I was. I opened my mouth to speak but at that exact moment, the door to the classroom swung in and the object of my thoughts stood there in the doorway.
Pain exploded in my chest at the sight of Lucky. On the one hand, I was relieved that he hadn't left. Tag had admitted that he’d made that part up, but somewhere in the back of my mind I'd accepted that it was a real possibility. On the other hand, the sight of Lucky threatened to do me in. The scrapes on his cheek were scabbing over, but there was a new patch of raw skin under his jawline that looked suspiciously like beard burn. I scratched some fingers through my overgrown whiskers and continued assessing him. He was pale, and dark circles marred the soft skin under his eyes. I suspected he’d had as little sleep as I had. Even with the space between us, his eyes looked red, and I could only assume it was from the tears he'd shed after I'd walked out on him.
"Sorry," Lucky mumbled. His eyes met mine for the briefest of moments before he dropped them and entered the room. Many of the students got up so they could go to Lucky and give him a hug. I couldn't really hear anything Lucky was saying in response to all the praise and support he was receiving from his classmates, but it was clear that the small smiles he gave people were forced. There was an irrational part of me that wanted to ask the other students if they couldn't see for themselves that he was far from okay. I wanted him to tell them the truth about what an asshole I was.
White noise took over my brain as I watched Tag go to Lucky and give him a brief hug. I couldn't hear the conversation they were having, but I knew Tag had a lot more to say to Lucky than his classmates did.
I used every minute of the distraction Lucky's entrance had provided to try and pull myself together. The only way I was able to even conduct the class was to not look at Lucky even once. By the time I was done with the session, I had no clue what I'd said, but since Tag hadn't been forced to intervene, I figured I'd managed to pull it off.
I waited for that inevitable moment when Lucky would come up and confront me, but it didn't happen. Not in the classroom and not later in the day during the hands-on training portion. When it came time for me to check Lucky's harness and the lines that would secure him, I'd imagined all the different ways he'd go off on me. But he didn't say a thing other than to acknowledge my instructions with a simple nod of his head. I wasn't sure he was really even seeing me because his eyes just looked… dead.
He also failed to interact with his classmates on any kind of meaningful level and when the session ended, instead of hanging out at the hangar to get some hands-on practice, Lucky murmured an excuse about being tired, and then he was gone. After calling it a night myself, I returned to my cabin and started in on the alcohol. By the third shot, I'd found enough courage to text Lucky the half-assed question, You okay?
Not surprisingly, I didn't get a response. The fifth shot gave me enough confidence to dial Lucky's number but my call went straight to voicemail. As the hours passed and my attempts to contact Lucky continued to fail, I lost myself in more and more alcohol. The bottle was close to empty by the time sleep claimed me. By morning, I was left with the headache from hell but fortunately it was Sunday, and there was no training scheduled.
One glance at my phone showed not even a single response from Lucky. I hated that my mind went to the image of his phone sitting on the nightstand of some guy he’d met the night before while blowing off some steam. The idea of some random jackass putting his hands all over Lucky’s gorgeous skin had me wanting to reach for the bottle all over again. I settled for taking a long shower and unpacking my bag. The sight of the frayed rope that had nearly cost Lucky his life had me stilling. It took several long beats to catch my breath as I considered how few strands of rope there’d been keeping Lucky from falling to his death. Once I felt a little more levelheaded, I reached for my phone and dialed Jake’s number.
