Their Freefall At Last by Julie Olivia

15

Ruby

Six Years Before

Ruby & Bennett are Twenty-Four Years Old

Something about crossing the county line into Cedar Cliff always feels welcoming. I think it’s how the pine trees part like theater curtains or how the four-lane highway narrows to two lanes while you climb the mountainside. Or maybe it’s that the world slows down a bit. Fewer honking cars. Fewer city lights. More telephone poles with loose hanging lines and perched birds.

For the first time in years, I feel a calm quiet.

I pull into The Honeycomb’s lot, put my car in park, and sit there. Just sit, winding my hands over the steering wheel. My passenger seat is occupied by a buckled-in laundry bag. My backseat has four boxes and a suitcase. My trunk is an even messier affair.

I have a text waiting for me from my dad, but I don’t answer it. Instead, I thumb through the slew of texts from a new group chat I’ve been added to—one with Lorelei, Quinn, and Bennett. Each text is more excited about my homecoming than the last.

My whole body is shaking. My hands. My knees. My feet have been vibrating, causing the gas pedal to be very confused during the last leg of the drive.

I haven’t seen my best friend in nearly a year. Sure, we still text every day, but it’s different to see jokes on a screen than watch those words leave his mouth with his beaming grin—the playful one that reaches his eyes.

What does Bennett look like after one year? Does he still smile like that?

I close my eyes, lowering my head to the steering wheel. I should be driving directly to my dad’s house, dropping off my stuff, and playing with my brother. But Bennett texted me, saying that Trivia Night was on Wednesdays, and I will be joining in as a permanent member, considering I’m a Cedar Cliff resident once more.

I’m here. I’m back in my hometown for good.

I cut off my engine and climb out, walking up the two rickety steps out front and then opening the creaking door. There’s a low hum of voices, the familiar sound of classic rock flowing through the speakers. It smells like hoppy beer and fried food. Long picnic tables adorn the wood plank floor, and frames on the wall feature vintage Honeywood promotional posters or visiting celebrities.

Then, with one look toward the bar, I see that familiar face I know all too well.

Bennett spots me instantly. He blinks once, twice, and then, slowly, a smile grows on his face. That beautiful smile that reaches his eyes.

His inky-black hair is still long and still wild—more rugged than any man I’ve seen in the city in the past six years. The veins along his tattooed forearms—so many new pieces of art—roll down to his wrist. Peeking just below is a small, frayed pink string.

He leans his head to the side and gives a small wave of his fingers. I raise my hand in response, and even from here, I hear his chuckle, just by watching his chest move.

I walk toward him at first, but then my steps get faster, and suddenly, I’m jogging across the bar. I barrel into Bennett’s arms, landing against his hard chest—dang, he really works out now—which hurts on impact. I don’t care.

Bennett stands from his stool with his large arms wrapped around my waist, and he picks me up off the ground, swinging me side to side. I bury my nose into the soft strands of his hair. He still smells like strawberries.

“Hey, Parrot,” he murmurs against my skin. His voice is rumbly and gruff.

“Hi, Pirate.”

We hug for a few seconds, then maybe a minute—I don’t know how long. All I know is, we must be playing some game of hug chicken because neither of us pulls away.

Not until I hear, “Hey, who’s that foxy lady?”

I’d recognize that sarcastic tone anywhere. I twist my head to see Quinn at a long table, hand wrapped around a beer. Lorelei is next to her, giving an eager wave. I haven’t seen either of them in probably two years, and they look remarkably the same. Though Quinn is wearing far less black than in high school. And Lorelei, well … she’s still wearing some variety of a Honeywood-themed T-shirt, and I love her for it.

“Stop hogging her!” Lorelei says to Bennett with cupped hands over her mouth.

Laughing, always low and gravelly, Bennett lowers me down, my front skimming over his body the entire way. I feel every new hard edge to his body, all the bulky hills of his chest, down to the thick ridges of his abs. My feet hit the ground, but his hand stays on my lower back, his palm spread over me to hold me close.

Just like he always has.

The more I stare at him, the more I realize what’s changed. The sides of his eyes have a fan of lines now, like check marks confirming adulthood. A new wash of dark stubble dips into his cheeks and around his hard jaw, a harsh angle that looks carved with a professional’s knife. He has a new scar above his lip.

But his eyes are still the same—those gorgeous dark brown pools that say everything without having to. I’ve missed you.

So, I think back, I’ve missed you too, and he smiles wider.

I jump onto my toes, then back down to loosen the energy inside me—the tiny glimmers of light floating back now that Bennett is around. The world has been a little less beautiful without him while I was in college.

He orders me a beer and grabs both his and mine off the counter, and I follow him to their table. Lorelei pulls me to her the moment I sit down.

“This is where all the Honeywood staff hangs out,” Bennett says, sliding in next to me. “Well, and everyone else too, I guess.”

I look around and see the old football coach, Bill, with Mrs. Stanley chatting to him and the mechanic, Frank, chewing on peanuts at the bar … all three still in work clothes of varying degrees. There’s a slew of other people I recognize from high school or maybe the grocery store, and every single person is smiling behind sips of beer and laughter. It’s easygoing—a nice change from the hustle of city life.

“You’re here to stay, right?” Lorelei pleads. “Tell me you’re here to stay.”

“Yeah,” I say through an exhale. “I got a job in the city, so I’ll still be commuting, but yeah.”

Lorelei pulls me into another hug. “Ahh, yes! I heard about the job! And at Dominion too! You’re living the dream! Everything you worked for!”

Everything I worked for.

I went to college for engineering and landed a job at one of the best roller coaster construction companies in the South. On paper, it’s wonderful. In reality, my boss has an email response rate of five business days, but expects less than one hour for his own requests.

But there’s no need to mention that and ruin the good mood.

“Yeah, it’s fantastic,” is all I say. Because I can’t complain when I got exactly what I wanted, right?

I change the subject and offer to be the notetaker for our trivia team. It’s easier to have an assigned task when I’m the quieter one in our group. I listen to their conversations—their gossip about Honeywood, or Lorelei’s boyfriend in the Rides department, or Quinn’s mom showing up and then disappearing all over again. Conversations that feel familiar and yet different, all at once.

Eventually, the bartender comes and sits down with us, which I assume is normal, considering how casually he slides in. They introduce him as Orson, and when I ask how long he’s been working here, he laughs and says he owns the place. He’s got a backward cap and a playful smile, and I decide I’ll probably like him over time. Before he leaves, he claps Bennett on the back and asks if he’s coming over to watch football.

I blink at that because I didn’t even know Bennett liked football. It feels like everyone has moved on, that there are events I’ve missed out on for years.

How long will it take to be fully comfortable again?

I pull in a deep inhale to steady my growing nerves, but then I feel a large hand on my lower back. It’s Bennett, and he’s smiling at me.

“You okay?” he whispers because he just knows.

I might be a stranger in this town, but not to Bennett. Never to Bennett. And that thought alone has my nerves dissipating on the spot.

“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Good.”

“You’re very smiley,” I observe.

He chuckles. “Well, I’m very happy.”

Quinn snorts. “He would not stop talking about you coming home.”

Bennett’s smile fades to a comical frown. “That’s not true.”

“Is it?” I ask.

“No,” he grunts, giving a pointed look toward Quinn.

Then, Quinn’s voice rises to a high pitch as she says, “ ‘Let’s wait to name the trivia team until Ruby comes home.’ ”

“Quinn. I never said that.”

“ ‘Do you think Ruby will like The Honeycomb?’ ” Lorelei chimes in with a giggle.

“ ‘I bet Ruby will really like Orson,’ ” Quinn jokes.

From the bar, Orson barks out a laugh, twisting his baseball cap forward.

“ ‘Let’s all watch The Bachelor together when she gets back. She’ll love that,’ ” Lorelei mimics.

I clear my throat and raise the pitch of my voice to mock, “ ‘Do you think Ruby will like beer?’ ”

Quinn raises her drink. “There we go! Rubes is back!”

The three of us girls laugh, and finally, so does Bennett—a laugh that starts slow and reluctant and then it’s full-bellied and loud. All four of us leaning forward on the long table, giggling and drinking and settling into the night.

We don’t win trivia, but Quinn says our team never does, so not to worry about it. I wasn’t worrying though. I’m just thrilled to be spending time with people I love. And as I’m paying my tab at the bar, I spot Bennett leaning against the wall near the exit.

Bennett is so much bigger than he used to be. Bulky. No longer a boy, but a man in every sense of the word. Even his thighs stretch his jeans, and I wonder if they’re as hard as his arms are. Well, maybe I shouldn’t be thinking the word hard when I’m around him …

I shake the thought away as Bennett raises an eyebrow, gives a devastating smile, and curls his finger toward himself.

Come here,it says.

My stomach twists.

Well, okay, sir.

“Do you want to come over?” Bennett asks once I approach. “Mom would love to see you. Plus, I think she’s making late-night wings.”

“I love late-night wings.”

A slow, knowing smile grows as he says, “I know you do.”

Christ, my face heats under his gaze. When did my best friend get so charming? He’s always been able to flirt, but this feels … different. Like he’s trying.

But then it hits me.

Is Bennett trying to flirt with me?

I blink through the thought as Bennett walks me to my car.

But we can’t do that.

“You know what? I should go to my dad’s instead,” I say. “Drop my stuff off. I’m sure he’s waiting up for me.”

Probably not because he hasn’t in years, but I don’t say that.

Bennett slowly nods, putting his hands in his pockets. His demeanor adjusts, pressing the brakes on some of the charm, like my change of plans cemented my thoughts into his.

Please don’t flirt with me because I can’t lose you.

“Hey, Rubes?” he asks.

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you stay?”

“What do you mean?”

“In the city,” he says. “Why are you living here and commuting?”

“It’s expensive in the city.”

“Sure, but why move all the way back here?”

“You don’t want me here?”

He barks out a laugh. “You know that’s not true. Did you not hear Quinn and Lorelei?”

“Aha! So, they were telling the truth,” I say, poking his chest. His very hard chest.

Bennett’s eyes dart down at my finger, then back up. “I like life better when you’re around.”

If I didn’t think he’d clock it, I might have gulped hearing those words because I like the way he said them far too much.

“Same here, bucko,” I respond. Because that’ll totally lighten this weird, new tension between us, right?

A laughing breath of air breezes through his nose. “Bucko?”

I shrug. “I’m trying it out. Thoughts?”

“I’m good.”

“Fine. How about buddy?”

“Thin ice, Rubes.”

We exchange grins before my shoulders drop. “If I’m being honest, I moved back because Dad and Miranda wanted help with the baby.”

Bennett clicks his tongue. “Ah.”

He narrows his eyes and gets that tick in his jaw that drifts back and forth, just like my dad used to.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re gonna be their live-in babysitter?”

I let out a breathy exhale of disbelief even though yeah, I guess I am.

Defensively, I add, “It’s not exactly like that.”

He bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head, looking away toward the tree line to murmur, “God, he’s such a piece of work.”

“Bennett,” I warn.

“You deserve better.”

“Better? What does that mean?”

“It means you moved out and moved on from him and his bullshit. And now that he wants help raising his child, he’s taking all that away.”

I let out a teasing yet disbelieving scoff. “He’s not taking anything away. This is letting me save money too. I’m not entirely getting the raw end of this. Now hush your mouth and hug me.”

His eyebrows raised, Bennett shakes his head with a grin and wraps his arms around me. All of it is consuming—the scent of strawberry hair and his large biceps and hard chest. And then he kisses the top of my head, and I close my eyes to savor it. To enjoy the affection from him that I’ve longed for so much.

“I’m glad you’re home,” he says. “I am.”

We stand for a second more before he opens my door for me. I climb in and he places a hand above the window.

“Hey, bring Lucas to the park anytime,” he says. “I’ll make sure he gets in free.”

“Ooh, I love free stuff.”

“Anything for you, Rubes.”

“Anything? I’ll have to think about that.”

Then Bennett smiles, slow and sure. “I’m really happy you’re back.”

“Me too.”

“So, what are we doing tomorrow?”

“Whatever you want.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“With great pressure comes great responsibility, Bennett.”

“Darn. I gotta be responsible? Let me guess, we can’t vandalize things in town?” he jokingly suggests.

“Oh, I never said that.”

Bennett sighs wistfully, so beautiful and pure. His eyes flick from my freckled cheeks, down to my chin, and then back up. But there isn’t flirting behind it now. I wonder if we can keep it that way.

He closes my car door, and I roll down the window.

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” he echoes, then slaps the top of my car.

It’s good to be home.