The Scheme

I held my breath and didn’t move a muscle. It seemed as though the silence stretched on forever.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Please, Brian. I need you. Give me a sign that you need me, too.

This time, I didn’t want a psychic to tell me anything. I just wanted Brian’s reaction, just him. He was all that mattered now. I didn’t need anyone else telling me how my life was going to go. I wasn’t going to put my faith in someone else’s prediction in my future. I already knew how I wanted it to be. And I wanted him.

Just when my heart was about to plummet to the dirty ground, he turned. So slowly, it was almost too painful to take in. But when I saw his face, his blue eyes meeting mine, I released a thankful sigh.

“I’m tired of getting hurt,” he said, his jaw tight and his eyes cautious.

“I’m tired of not moving on,” I said softly. He was speaking of his past, and I was speaking of mine, too, because that’s just what it was, our pasts, not our future.

The tension in his stance lessened as our eyes locked. And as silence built between us, the congestion of the Manhattan noise surrounded us in the empty alley.

I broke the silence. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore, not if I can help it.”

We didn’t make a move toward each other. I was afraid if I approached him, he’d reject me. My heart was on my sleeve. One more move and it would fall to the ground and shatter.

He stood there for a moment, assessing me. “I want all in,” he said. “It’s all or nothing with me. I don’t share.”

I nodded. “All in,” I said it with conviction as a glimmer of hope bloomed in my chest. I was still worried that he might change his mind, though, and I contemplated what to say next.

But then I had a brilliant idea. Instead of speaking, I took action. I retreated backward toward the fire escape by the dumpster, and Brian lifted an eyebrow as I pulled the worn steel ladder to the ground. With shaky hands, I took a step up the rungs, and then another. I was a few feet up when I looked back down at him.

I suddenly felt woozy.

Don’t look, don’t look. Okay. Deep breath.

“What’re you doing?” A flash of humor crossed his face. It was the most positive reaction I’d received from him since I’d kicked him out of my apartment, so I welcomed it, feeling lighter already.

“I’m scared,” I admitted, taking another step up the ladder and gripping the iron tightly. My white knuckles were a stark contrast against the black flaking iron, rusted from age. “Before you, it was only Cole.” I took another shaky step as Brian made his way toward me. I sensed he was afraid my crazy ass might fall and break a leg. If I was being honest, I was more than a little frightened, but I needed to prove a point. “It was a reckless kind of love, twisted. I didn’t have control, and I hate feeling out of control. But . . . that’s how I feel when I’m with you.”

Another step. I was more than three feet from the ground now, and when I registered how far up I was, I hugged the stairs toward me and closed my eyes.

Don’t look!

“Are you okay up there?” he asked, worry heavy in his tone.

“Y-yeah. It’s just that . . .” I opened my eyes and peered down at him and only him. If I looked past him or below him, I might pass out completely. “After that night, I vowed to always be in control of every relationship I was ever in. With you, I feel like I’m on some crazy roller coaster ride that takes me higher and higher. I’m afraid of that final dip that brings us to the end. You scare me, Brian,” I said, the honesty seeping out of my mouth.

A sheen of sweat formed at my brow as anxiety built in me as I noted my distance from the ground. “But I’ve come to realize I’d rather be on some crazy ride with you than some lazy river with Stiff.”

At his tiny smile, I continued, “I wanted to believe that psychic because she told me I would heal. It was the easier route to believe in those predictions than to take control of my own life. But I don’t care anymore because I can’t stand another day without you.” I proceeded up the stairs again, trying my hardest to ignore the ladder shaking around me. When I started to lose my footing, though, I let out a small scream.

Brian’s eyes widened. “Kendy, get down,” he commanded. He gripped the bottom of the ladder, keeping it steady.

“I’m just letting you know. I’m ready to fall.” I shook my head because I made no sense. This was such a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid! I took another deep breath. “I’ve already fallen in love with you, but this is my crazy way of saying . . . I’m ready to enjoy the rush of falling. Letting go of control because that’s what love is.” My eyes locked with his as I gripped the back of the ladder, facing him. My heart stammered against the cage of my chest. “The question is . . . am I too late? Or are you ready to catch me?”

I held my breath, not looking at the ground, and once again only focusing on his beautiful face.

His smile was blinding, seriously the most magnificent thing I’d ever seen.

And I knew—he was saying yes.

“I was ready to catch you on that very first day,” he said, his eyes shining up at me.

I let go of the ladder and balanced on my feet. “I trust you. You’re going to catch me. I know.” I met his eyes, unwavering and knowing that I could trust this man with my life. But when my gaze flickered to the concrete below me and I realized how high I was, I gripped the ladder again with my clammy hands. “Remember . . . catch me. Because if I bust my eye open and need stitches, James is going to have to mend me up. Do you really want that?”

He let out a boyish, carefree laugh, the one that made my insides tingle. “That’ll never, ever happen.”

And then I fell.

And he caught me.

And I would’ve thought it would be like in the movies where I fall and land smoothly in his arms.

But no, not in my story.

I fell in the most unbelievable, awkward position, my elbow jabbing him in the shoulder. He almost dropped me, catching me by one leg as my other leg hit the ground.

Once I could catch my breath, we both laughed, and then he set me on the ground and lifted me again. But this time, it was just like we were on our honeymoon, his arms firmly under my knees.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and gri

His face turned serious, sweet, and tender, along with his voice. “Was there ever any doubt?”

I peered up at the sky, pretending to think deeply. “Well, I was a little witch to you the other day.”

He leaned into me, our foreheads almost touching. “Baby, there’s no way in hell I was going to let Stiff work on you . . . not when you’re mine.”

His. That I was. Forever and ever, if he let me.

I touched his forehead with mine and closed the gap between us.

He kissed my nose and whispered, “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

“Shakespeare.” I recognized the quote on the coaster he had on his table, the night we’d played ‘I never’.

He nodded as a flash of humor crossed his face. “Now, let me see that poem you wrote me.”

A blush crept up my cheeks. “Uh . . .”

The teasing amusement was back in his eyes as he let out a carefree laugh.

Busted.

When he pulled back, he asked, “Are you hurt?”

“What?”

“Because I’m about to make you feel a whole lot better.” The glint in his eye sent shivers down my spine.

I was smiling so big my cheeks hurt. “Oh, I’m hurt all right.” I was picturing the ‘better,’ and my insides leapt with anticipation. Then our lips co

EPILOGUE

SIX MONTHS LATER

KENDY

The smell of grease filtered through the air as I bounced on my stool at the Chinese restaurant and waited for Brian to bring us our meals.