Page 10

Chapter

Ten

OWEN

W hat was I thinking, suggesting a road trip with Clay?

Sure, he’s paying for the hotel, and we’ll be in two separate queen beds.

And yes, I’m invested in helping him learn to fly in a more natural environment.

There will be plenty of ledges and scenic vistas for both him and BN to try to take flight.

We can even take some time to work on our various projects for anatomy class.

Two college dudes platonically getting away and studying in a bedroom. Yeah, that’s totally a thing that happens, right?

“Can I ask you a question?”

I turn to the driver’s seat to take a good look at Clay.

He’s driving on the highway while I hold the terrarium in my lap, covered in a towel.

The morning sunlight means our pet should be asleep, but sunshine gives Clay an almost ethereal glow.

He’s less pale, more warm in color, and the light makes his dark hair glisten.

Between the high cheekbones and strong neck, in a profile view, he still looks like a statue sculpted by the monster god.

I’m glad I have to hold this box, otherwise my lap and any motion in my pants might be exposed to the world. Or, at least, to Clay.

He looks at me expectantly then back out at the highway. “Owen?”

I shake my head. “Um, yeah?”

“I need you sharp if I’m gonna learn how to fly.” He chuckles and grips the steering wheel with one hand. “Like I said, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.” I swallow. “We have time to kill. At least for another hour.”

“Yeah. And I think getting to know you will help plant the seeds of trust for our partnership.” He glances at me in alarm. “ Lab partnership. And flying.”

“Well, apparently we share a familiar.” I grin and lift the towel just a smidge—our bat is still sleeping. “So I’m not opposed to some small talk.”

Clay relaxes and stares out the windshield. “So, why do you hate jocks?”

Oh, it’s that question . I clear my throat. “I don’t…hate jocks.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” he replies.

The box in my lap is suddenly so interesting that I fixate on it. “I have a…sordid history with athletic boys.”

“What, did they shove you into lockers as a kid?” He glances at me, and his look changes from humorous to concerned in a split second.

Trees zoom past us out the window. I sigh and say, “No. I mean, I dealt with the typical racial slurs in elementary school. Then homophobic jeers in middle school.”

“Shit, really?”

“I’m an Indian kid going to school in America. Plus, the glasses, occasional panic attacks, being skinny, and later gay.” I shrug and rub the toweled box. “I was never going to be high on the list of popularity. ”

“Shit, racial slurs, too? Kids are still doing that?”

“Unfortunately, colorism is a timeless phenom,” I mutter. “But that cooled down a lot in high school.”

“And jocks…bullied you?” His voice is laced with sympathy, and it makes me smile.

“Not even. The reason I don’t date athletic boys is because I did date athletic boys.”

“Huh?”

We lock eyes for a brief moment. “A dude in high school. Then two dudes at my previous university. Short-term relationships with guys who made being on teams their whole personality.”

“Owen…”

I stare out the windshield. “It’s not like they hid me or bullied me or anything. I got to lose my virginity, too, which, ya know, score!” I give a facetious laugh, but Clay gazes at me with a neutral face. “What they did was…well, not so good for my self-esteem.”

“What did they do?” he asks quietly.

“Eventually they called me boring. Just because I liked reading, museums, and learning about monsters.”

“Aw man,” he replies.

My throat feels dry as I swallow. “I think maybe I talked a bit too much about my fascination with monsters. And maybe that alienated them because they were human. Even though I liked them, I wasn’t enough for them.”

“Hey—”

“It’s for the best. They never exactly comforted me when I had anxiety.”

“Owen—”

“I shouldn’t have been blinded by the tight abs and nice biceps.” I give another feeble laugh. “We didn’t have a lot in common. But like, I was a horny seventeen-year-old. What’s a guy to do? You remember what that was like, right?”

Clay raises an eyebrow. “Not really, since I used to go to drive-in movie dates on the back of dinosaurs. Because according to you, I’m old AF.”

A beat later, we’re both cracking up, and I try not to jostle the terrarium. “I did not say that,” I say through a chuckle.

“I mean, I am though.” After we calm down, he gives me a serious look. “Owen, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Ancient history. Coming to Creelin was my fresh start.” I shrug. “Now I have monster friends. Like Kovi.”

“And me!” He shoots me an over-the-top grin, and I snicker.

“Yes, I suppose teaching you how to fly makes us friends, Cannon.”

“It does. And for the record, I don’t think you need to change for anyone. You’re a catch, and don’t you forget it.”

His simple words have a stranglehold on my heart. “Thanks,” I murmur. With that, we stay friendly and quiet as the miles fly by on our road trip.

Stokerbram Park is gorgeous—gorges?—on this lovely March evening.

Clay parks us in a lot near a trail specifically marked to lead us to the waterfalls.

Like the gentleman he is, he takes our terrarium as we stroll a mile into the wooded park.

His vampire strength is impressive, and even in his dark thermal shirt under a vest, his arms bulge fantastically.

Several minutes later, we stop by the running water.

I make a small, blanketed area on a flat rock to place the terrarium.

Then, I roll out Clay’s extra-large sleeping bag to soften his landing.

Lastly, I place my bag down and take out my notebook.

It’s so quiet, with nary a bird in the sky, save for the sound of the flowing water in the gorge.

No one is around, so it’s like we have all of nature to ourselves.

With our pet settled, I take a good look at the scene before me.

“Woah,” I say, breathlessly. I spend so much time in cities, being in nature is almost overwhelming.

The evergreen trees are massive and tower over us.

Before me, the waterfall is several meters high, and I can picture Clay leaping off and flying above the watery gorge toward our picnic area.

“All right, I’m ready!”

I look up to see Clay several feet in the air, standing on a branch. Oh, we’re just getting into it? He waves at me with his black winter gloves. In his green beanie cap, he’s adorable; it’s so unfair this buff monster jock also has a cute face. I shift up my glasses and give him a thumbs-up.

“Feel the breeze?” I ask, hopefully loud enough for him to hear. Wait, of course he can hear me; he has superior senses.

He looks up, then back down at me and nods.

“So, remember, the air currents are your friend,” I declare. “All of my research has led me to believe that vampires can adjust their density based on their willingness to fly.”

He rubs his hands and nods, looking around.

“Just listen to the breeze and let it lift you!”

Clay takes a deep breath, and…

PLOP!

My eyes track him as he falls onto the sleeping bag.

I wince in disappointment. His accelerated healing will assist him with any bruises, but his spiritual motivation might take a beating.

I rush over and help him up even though he’s strong enough to stand on his own.

I only allow my hands to linger on his—very buff—arms through the black thermal for a moment before stepping back .

“Still no dice,” he says while dusting off the shoulders of his puffer vest.

I frown. “Maybe your vest is weighing you down. Less weight means more lift, right?”

He unzips his vest. “Trying to get me naked, Bhat?”

I sputter and look away, feeling my cheeks heat. “I’m just…brainstorming here.”

“Hm. All right.” He puts away his vest and hat. Then, with superhuman agility, climbs up the tree. His vampire powers continue to fascinate me. And yes, seeing his strength in action with one less layer is all sorts of hot.

He can’t possibly be into me after I continuously reject him. This getaway in a romantic forest is strictly for science.

Clay tries twice more and each time immediately falls flat. I tilt my head and sigh; I swore things would be different out here in nature.

“This is the worst,” he grumbles. I feel for him, this sexy vampire who’s quickly become my friend. The shame on his pretty face is undeniable, and I want to touch his face and take the pain away.

Pain . Hm. That gives me an idea.

“Clay…you…suck.”

He stares at me like I just sprouted another head. “ Pardon ?”

“You’re a vampire who can’t glide.” I raise my voice in an attempt to berate him further. “How will Bat Nathanson learn anything with you as his guide?”

“I’m…I’m trying .” His brow furrows. He seems genuinely offended, shaking out his hands and frowning at me.

“I bet you’re not even a real jock. You clearly don’t have the athleticism to float along the winds of the woods, a feat so simple a pigeon could do it.”

He glares at me in shock. “I…I am. What…what are you…?”

“Then prove it,” I say with a firmer tone. I get in his space, point at his muscly chest, and add, “Prove to me this all wasn’t a waste of time. That I’m not better off spending my time with another vampire.”

“Owen—”

“You claim to be this playboy athlete, then make like the wicked witch and take to the skies.”

“But—”

“Do it.” I put my finger on his chest and push him backward. “Show me you’re not worthless, Cannon. Show me…show me you can fucking fly.”

He growls and steps back, his face filled with rage and determination. “Fine,” he grumbles, ripping off his gloves. In a blur, he climbs up the tree and stands on the biggest branch. He closes his eyes, presumably breathing in the forest air. All I can hear is the nearby waterfall.

Hopefully, my little one-man show worked.

After a beat, he rips off his shirt—holy monster god, the man is ripped. I don’t even get to enjoy it because he shakes out his shoulders, steps back, and…

He leaps. For a long, glorious moment, he floats in the air. The sun streaks across his beautiful half-naked body.

Then, like a paper airplane, he glides down and crashes into the mud. Notably, however, he’s not on the sleeping bag two feet in front of the tree.

He’s a few yards away from me, so I scramble to help him up. “Agh,” he groans, wiping his chest. I try not to stare at that pristine torso—pale bluish skin, tight abs, and a flat chest—as he wipes off dirt.

“Clay!”

“I know, I know,” he grumbles, prying a twig from out of the waistband of his sweatpants. “I failed again. Your little act didn’t work.”

“Act? ”

“You were trying tough love, or whatever, to get me to fly out of spite.”

I cringe. “I…read that different techniques can help a tricky situation.”

He huffs and looks away at the waterfall. “Yeah, well, clearly not even the power of frustration can get me to fly.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong!” He turns to me, and I beam. “Clay, you flew!”

“Huh?”

“Well, you floated. Just for the briefest moment. I saw it.”

“Seriously?” He looks down at his hands then up at the tree where he jumped.

“I wouldn’t lie to you!” We share a laugh and I tap his bare, muscled arms.

“So then, progress?”

“I think we’re so close to you actually gliding! Motivation is the key!”

“Of course. It was so different from your usual book-based encouragement!” He looks away and smiles, and we’re both revitalized with energy.

“I raised the stakes!” I whip out my notebook from my coat pocket and flip a page. “Heightened emotions…that could be the trick.”

“Now how can we raise the stakes further?" He stretches his arms and looks away. “The waterfall?”

We take a few steps toward the gorge. No one is around, and the babbling brook below is all ours.

I read online that in the summertime, some folks jump off the waterfall, so I know he won’t die.

“That might work,” I remark. I visualize Clay pulling that paper airplane maneuver and leaping off the waterfall.

With enough control, he could aim to land himself right on the rock where we started.

Or he could tumble into the water .

“Only if you want to, though.”

“Hey, no fear. Trepidation didn’t get me to hover just now, anger did.” He grins and points at me, and I laugh.

“So what, you want me to make you upset?”

“No. Motivate me by raising the stakes further. Let’s make this interesting.” He bounces an eyebrow at me, and it’s so sexy I don’t register what he’s saying.

“Um…”

“Owen, if I fall into the water, you get to kick me in the nuts.”

“What?”

He sits down on a stump and he takes off his shoes and socks. Next—monster god help me—he stands up to take off his sweats.

My eyes go wide at the sight of him in the world’s tightest pair of boxer briefs. I’m aware I’ve seen him naked and in swimming briefs, but each time I gaze at his body it’s a miracle to behold.

“Wha…wha…what?” I stammer.

He smirks like he can read my mind. He walks up to me and forces the sweatpants into my hands. “If I fly, I get to steal a kiss from you.” He winks and dashes off to the top of the waterfall.

I’m in shock by everything going on that his words go in one ear and out the other. He’s far gone by the time I say, “Wait, what ?”

I move closer to the ledge, and in seconds, he’s at the top of the waterfall. He’s majestic, standing there in almost no clothes, arms outstretched, and eyes closed. He’s attuning himself to the various breezes over the waterfall.

I want him to succeed so badly. I want to see this vampire take flight for the first time. I want my friend, Clay, to finally fulfill his destiny.

He looks up at the sky, and I smile at the sight. The memory of his most recent words finally hits me. If he accomplishes this, he…gets to kiss me?

Before I can properly panic, I watch him jump. His arms are outstretched, and he floats in place like last time. Then, his body is diving down—shit, he’s falling into the water. Disappointment forms in my gut, but a moment later, my emotions are thrown for a loop.

Clay Cannon flies right back up. With the momentum of his little dive, and his arms now at his sides like some sort of airborne torpedo, he’s shooting upward.

There is no denying that he’s defying all gravity.

When he reaches the apex, a few feet higher than the origin of the waterfall, he opens his arms again and freezes in place.

Then, he gently glides forward, like a human kite.

My heart nearly bursts at the realization: this sexy vampire jock is at long last flying.