Fall Back Skyward (Fall Back #1)(49)

Whatever.

Me: Hurry. I’ve missed you.

Nor: Should I come over?

Me: Yes.

We’ve been spending more time in my house lately. It’s safer that way.

I press send and grin at my phone. Shit. I’m completely obsessed with this girl. No wonder Josh can’t seem to stop teasing me.

I toss my phone on the bed and spend the next few minutes peeling Simon and Megs from my couch and tossing them out of my room.





It’s fifteen minutes to midday by the time I park my car in my usual spot outside my house. I grab my purse, hop out of the car and run up the path leading to my house. I’m meeting Cole soon, and knowing him, he’ll be striding out his front door and leaping over the fence to get to me. I’ve gotten used to his intensity so I’m always ready for him.

With one last glance at Cole’s house, I enter mine. More than a feeling by Boston blares from upstairs, shaking the floor boards beneath my feet. The sound of the cello joins Boston, it’s sorrowful, yet alluring melody filling the space. I follow the throbbing beats to Elise’s room before I stop, and duck my head through the door. Elise is sitting on top of her bed, holding a pencil in each hand, playing a pretend drum while rocking her head vigorously back and forth, while Elon’s eyes are closed, a soft smile on her face.

“Turn down the music, guys.” When they don’t seem like they heard me, I cross the room and turn down the volume. As much as I love to see them like this, we still have to think of our mother.

“Hey!” Elise yells, her hands frozen mid-play.

“Too loud. I love you, girls. But if you don’t stop I’ll be forced to take you over my knee.”

Elise snorts loudly and Elon rolls her eyes, shaking her head.

“Have you eaten lunch yet? And mom?”

They nod.

“Mom said she wanted to get some rest.” Elon says, biting her lip and staring at Elise. “Maybe we should do this tomorrow.”

Elise shrugs and hops down from the bed. I leave the room, and after taking my cell phone from my purse, I toss it on my bed and go back downstairs. After grabbing a quick bite of the pizza one of my sisters must have ordered, I settle on the bench in front of the Bosendorfer in living room and quick shoot a text to Cole to let him know I’ll be at his house in ten minutes.

My mom started teaching me how to play the piano at the age of three. We would play frequently, especially when Dad wasn’t home because he hated it and said the sound got on his nerves. Now, I play whenever I get a chance. Music is one of those things that helped me through the tough times.

I search my mind for a song I know will soothe her, one of her favorites, Yiruma’s River Flows in You.

Placing my hands over the black and white keys, I close my eyes and let the chords play from my mind to my fingers. I continue playing, completely lost in its high and low soft tones. I hardly notice I’m not alone in the room. That is, until I feel air brush my arm. I open my eyes and blink. Cole is standing across from me, his hands splayed on the black gleaming surface of the piano. My fingers falter, stumbling on the keys and end up sounding like someone banged on them. I let my fingers trail off.

I glance around wondering how he got inside the house and for just a second, I panic. Cole has never been in here before. His visits are restricted to my bedroom only. What if Dad finds him in here? I jerk back to look at the clock and breath out, relieved. We still have a few hours until he comes home. If he comes home.

“Elise let me in while she was on her way out. I checked to see if your dad’s car was outside before I snuck in.”

Wow. I didn’t even hear my sister leave.

“Are you okay?” he signs and speaks the words. He’s been teaching me a few words when we aren’t making out like crazy. Some of them I learned on YouTube.

Swallowing my nerves, I nod and go to him. I push on my tiptoes and press my lips against his in a kiss. He sucks in a breath, moaning softly before he pulls back and narrows his eyes at me.

“What?” I ask, as I drop to the soles of my feet.

“I’ve spent most of my life learning how to read people. I’ve spent the last few weeks learning to read you. What’s wrong?”

I remember the way my father yelled at him, glaring at him with so much hate. Then grandma’s story about Thomas and my father’s hate for his own brother.

“My father doesn’t like you,” I say, carefully watching his face for a reaction.

“I know,” he says. He doesn’t look bothered at all. “I’m messing around with his daughter. Of course he doesn’t like me. It won’t stop me from liking you or wanting to kiss the shit out of you whenever I think of you. Which is every single f*cking second of the day.”

I shake my head, wondering if I should speak out loud my suspicions that my father not liking him is not caused by a mere irritation over a boy making a pass at his daughter. It’s more than that. I can’t really put a finger on what it is. My dad never liked my boyfriend in Ohio, but at least he was decent about it. Well, as decent as my father can be, which is glaring at a person until they scurry away in fear.

The scars on my arms prickle and I put my hands on them, running my nails along my skin to lessen the itch. “We have to be careful, okay?”

Cole’s eyebrows dip, his eyes holding mine, studying me. He lays his hands on mine, halting my progress and then lefts them, replacing them with his. He rubs his palms up and down my arms, in slow, deliberate motions and my mind explodes into a thousand different sensations. “We will be careful.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and then tucks a thumb under my chin. “Chin up, beautiful.