I jogged over to Jessica’s house—with no strategy, no confidence that this would work—only knowing I needed to see her. I needed to make this right before she’d slept another night on the angry words between us and decided I’d pushed her away too many times to forgive.
I tossed three pebbles at her second-story window, waited, then threw two more. She didn’t appear, so I tossed another two. I was warring with doubt and eyeballing the tree next to the house, considering the likelihood of climbing it without killing myself, when I saw her light flip on. I didn’t know whether I was relieved or distraught when she opened the window.
She poked her head outside, her long blonde hair dangling over one shoulder, and scanned the rooftop.
Not allowing myself to think about it, I cupped my hands to my mouth and loud-whispered, “Jess! Down here.”
I saw her frown in my general direction, but no focus in her features. She couldn’t see me.
“Duane…? Is that you?”
“Yes. It’s me.”
Her eyes were still searching for me as I again studied the hemlock tree next to the house. I decided to climb it.
“Where are you?”
“I’m coming up.”
“You’re…what?”
I didn’t answer because I was already climbing the tree. Now, this tree was really two trees, split down the middle. I was able to leverage myself between them using my upper body strength exclusively. Luckily, there was a branch just out of reach, so I jumped for it and grabbed on.
“Oh my God!” I heard her whisper, and she sounded frantic. “Please do not tell me you are climbing that tree.”
“Hush, I’m almost there.” I pulled myself up until I was finally kneeling on the branch.
“Duane Winston, you are the craziest person I’ve ever met.” I don’t think she meant for me to hear those last words, but her voice carried, and they made me smile and gave me hope because along with exasperated they sounded affectionate.
I climbed one more branch, though I wasn’t sure it would hold my weight. It made a cracking sound just as I straightened and I heard Jess squeak, which made me laugh.
“Are you laughing?” she accused with a harsh whisper. “I can’t believe you’re laughing. After what happened tonight. You are the only person on the face of the earth who would laugh while risking a broken neck. Everyone knows hemlock trees aren’t climbing trees…”
Her tirade continued as I stepped on the steepled roof and carefully made my way across. She was still fussing at me as I climbed into her window, keeping my footfalls as soundless as possible.
“…all this risky behavior, you’re going to kill yourself. Or I’m going to kill you for making me a witness to it. You are completely thoughtless about your own safety…”
I closed the window behind me and surveyed her room. I crossed to the light switch and flipped it off. Then I moved back to where she stood. Her hands were on her hips; the slant of her mouth was even more pronounced now that she was frowning.
She was still talking, something about medical insurance and hoping I had a good policy, so I kissed her to hush her. And also because I needed to. I needed to know she was safe, whole, unharmed. I needed to feel her body, her heartbeat against my chest.
I missed her. Oh, how I’d missed her.
After a stunned second, she kissed me back. My fingers slipped under her nightshirt—another silk button-up that fell to her thighs—and hers fisted in my sweater.
I loved her petal soft skin, her curves, how hot she felt beneath my hands. She burned up everyplace I touched. I needed to touch her everywhere.
I loved her taste, and how responsive she was, like she couldn’t think past what we were doing.
But then she stiffened and pushed me away, maybe just realizing what was happening. She turned and darted to the other side of the room, placing the bed between us. The back of her hand came to her mouth and Jess stared at me with big eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, shifting from foot to foot like she was ready to bolt.
My mind wasn’t prepared for talking, so I said stupidly, “We didn’t finish our conversation earlier.”
“When?”
“Before now.”
“When before now? You mean when you walked out on me at the cabin?” Her chin lifted, like my walking out was a sore spot for her. “Or when we were trapped at the biker compound?”
Being reminded of the cabin made my chest hurt, but being reminded of the danger I’d put her in at the compound made my blood pump cold and furious.
“Both,” I managed through my self-loathing, hating she’d been in danger because of me.