"You having any second thoughts?" he questions as we slide into the car, still in his mom's driveway.
"Are you giving me an option to run, Officer Sallow?" I question, the corner of my lips tilting up slightly.
"Do you want an option to run?" he plays back, skillfully avoiding the question.
I slowly lean across the center console, sliding my hand across his thigh. His eyes follow the slow movement of my hand before coming up to meet mine.
"I'm not running anywhere, Tommy. Not unless you're running with me." I bring my face closer to his, lingering a mere inch away from his lips, his warm breath dancing along mine.
He takes the bait, pulling my face to his, giving me those full lips I've been craving for the last few hours.
You know that little concept of a honeymoon phase? The one where everything is full of bliss and the inability to keep your hands to yourself? Yeah, this might be it because I can't seem to stop thinking about all the spots I want his hands to play, all the ways I want his tongue to move in pleasurable places. It's like I'm this teenage bundle of hormones that I can't seem to keep in check.
Before I leap into his lap, letting him do very inappropriate things in the driveway that leads to his entire family, I pull my lips from his.
"I think we need a plan," I pant.
"A plan?" his eyebrows raise.
I nod. "A plan for today. Otherwise we might not do anything but stay in bed all day, everyday."
His hand slides to my cheek, that devilish smile playing across his face. "I don't see the problem."
Heat. Burning desire. He's the fucking sun itself, igniting my skin.
"The problem," my words escape as the rest of me screams to stop talking. "Is that we're in New York for only a few more days and I have yet to see this side of you."
"This side?" he questions.
"Yes, New York Tommy. I want to be wowed, courted, by the one and only Tommy fucking Sallow. I want to know what you would have done right here in your hometown to win me over."
"What makes you think my actions here would have been any different?"
"Because," I reach for his face now. "This is your home. This is the place that built you. I want to get to know pre-California Tommy. I want to know all of you, every piece that made you who you are."
"You're incredible, you know that?" he smiles.
I shrug my shoulders playfully, causing a laugh to fall from him.
"So, what do you say?" I question. "Care to win me over? Again?"
~~~
The first stop on my Tommy-filled adventure is a very adorable Mom-and-Pop candy shop called Sugar Oaks. Get it? Oakwood...sugar? Adorable. Okay, maybe it's not that impressive but when you're on a Tommy-high, everything is extra cute, including the look on his face as he spins through the unicorn lollipops. Why is this so freaking cute? Because there's only one little girl who is currently obsessed with unicorns and the fact that he already has a bag in hand ready to fill it with sugary sweets for Mia, makes all the fuzzies take flight inside me.
"Should we get Mia just the pink and purple rock candy or should we get a rainbow of colors to go with the unicorn?"
I mean, come on. Am I the only one swooning here?
I take a step closer now, placing my arm in his as I take a better look at the options in front of me. "I love the idea of a rainbow," I smile, watching him ask the woman behind the counter for the array of colors.
She smiles sweetly, looking between the two of us. "How old is your daughter?"
I pull back slightly, glancing up to see Tommy's reaction. His eyes are already on mine as a small smile forms on his face. And there it is again...the fuzzies. He's not scared of that question, he's not tense or nervous, he's...happy.
I smile back, unable to keep it from taking a newfound residence on my face as I turn to look at the woman. "She just turned five."
"Oh, what a fun age!" she beams. "I'm going to throw in a few of our one of a kind lollipops. I use a secret ingredient that my grandkids absolutely love!"
She continues to tell us all about each and every grandchild as well as every candy she named after all of them. All the while, I can't seem to stop thinking about the way my arm feels linked with Tommy's. Or the way he laughs at the woman's jokes and adds a few of his own. How he continues to add to Mia's bag and pick out a few special treats for his nieces. He even gets a small box of chocolate for his mom. I know, right?
Once we have our bags, and I'm just about drooling from the sweet smells of sugar mixed with the hormones firing on all cylinders, we head down the sidewalk, stopping in front of a theater. It's one of the older theaters in town, full of more historical importance than actual curb appeal. The neon sign above spells out the word Oaks, and just below that are those letters that someone had to actually climb up and slide in, the words Top Gun displayed.
My eyes light up as I turn to Tommy. "Please tell me we're going there!" I shout like a schoolgirl.
He smiles, laughing at the giddy child falling out of me. "Yes, we're going there."
I do some ridiculous jump, because well, I'm embracing the high school giddiness, okay? It's called letting loose, having a good time. Oh, who am I kidding? It's called falling for a very handsome man who just so happens to be extremely talented with his hands, even more of an expert with his tongue, and we won't get into details on the other specialties he possesses. But more than that, he makes me laugh, makes me feel desired, like I'm the only girl he sees. And that means more to me than any searing passion burning inside me right now.
I watch as he buys the tickets, never once letting me go. It appears he's as glued to me as I am to him. Something I most definitely do not have an issue with.
Once in the empty theater, completely empty I might add, I pop open my bag full of candy, sorting through the best first option.
"So," I begin, taking a bite of licorice. "What is it about Top Gun that drew you in?"
His eyes flicker to mine, the thoughts and memories flashing across his eyes. Movies that hold your heart, that capture you in ways that you connect with on levels deeper than the top layer usually carry a more profound meaning. It's not just the humor or drama of a film, but something below the surface that you can relate to. I know what my reason is, and now I want to know his.
"Every Thursday," he starts out, his fingers now playing with mine. "They played Top Gun. Right here at this very theater. Thursday was the day my dad hit the bar early. I knew he wouldn't be home until nine, like clockwork. It gave me a few hours to decompress, to prepare for whatever version of him would come through those doors. Those few hours between school and his return were all mine. And I just wanted to get away. To find a different world for a bit. So, one day, I saw Top Gun displayed in large letters on the sign. It sounded interesting enough so I went in. And I don't know, I was a kid and the guys seemed cool, and the jets were loud and awesome. I guess I just kept coming back."
"Until?"
"Until what?" he asks.
I lift his arm, placing it on my shoulder as I nestle in closer to him. "Until something else clicked with you, didn't it? Something in this movie resonated with you on a deeper level."
I feel his eyes look down at me so I lift my head to look back at him. "How did you..."
"Because," I begin to answer him. "You wouldn't have come back if there wasn't something more."
He slowly nods, looking up at the blank screen. "Look, the story is different. He lost his dad because he was someone who wouldn't leave a man behind. I lost my dad because we weren't as appealing as the drugs. But either way, like Maverick, I felt like I had something to prove. Something to live up to. While he lost his wingman, I lost my father. And after both scenarios, you're faced with something. You can run, cower away from it, or you can face it. Choose to prove something not to everyone else, but to yourself. You know, there's something Viper says near the end," he pauses, his thoughts recalling the exact words though I know he already knows them. He takes a small breath, "A good pilot is compelled to always evaluate what's happened so he can apply what he's learned." He lets that sit for a moment. I know that quote. I know it well actually. And I'm beginning to piece together exactly what it means to him.
"I guess I just took that and kind of ran with it. Realized that I couldn't make up for my dad's mistakes, but I could learn from them. And so, since I couldn't enter the Navy or any other military branch and leave my family, I chose the next best thing."
"You became a cop," I smile, resting my head on his shoulder. "A local hero."
"I did. Although, the jets would have been pretty cool to fly," he smiles against me before placing a soft kiss on the top of my head. "How about you? What drew you in?"
I can't help but take advantage of the opening he's given me. So instead of giving him an honest answer, I put on my best fangirl voice and sit up a bit to face him. "What's there not to like? The guys are like totally gorgeous to look at and there's such a swoon worthy love story," I fan my face with my hands just to add to the whole act.
His eyes narrow as he tries to fight a smile.
"Too much?" I question.
He raises his fingers, pinching them together slightly. "Maybe just a bit."
A small laugh falls from my lips before I sit back, his arm still resting on my shoulder as I turn to face him a bit more. "The truth? My brother Joe and I used to watch it together. We used to race our bikes down the street calling out like we were in the cockpit together. Of course he always had to be Maverick. I don't know, when we were kids I think we just liked the thrill of the fighter jets. Made us feel like legit badasses on our bikes."
He laughs, shaking his head slightly. "Don't tell me you two did the whole 'I feel the need...'"
"...the need for speed," I finish his statement with a shit smile as he drops his head, shaking it from side to side with a laugh. "We were twelve. Of course we said that, and we sounded pretty freaking awesome doing it."
"I don't doubt that," he smiles again, looking back at me.
I take a breath, settling into the next part of my story. "When I got older, there was a deeper meaning that stuck with me. The whole wingman mentality, the idea that someone always has your back? I guess it just meant a lot more when things weren't so great anymore. I don't know, I guess no matter how distant my brother and I got, I just kept hanging onto those moments. The ones where he promised to always have my back. No matter how deep into the trenches he went, I knew I'd always be there for him, and I hoped that he would hold onto that too."
I've told him about my twin's struggles with substance abuse. How it consumed him, turned him into someone different. He wasn't my twin anymore, not like he used to be. He morphed into someone I didn't recognize. And it hurt knowing that I wasn't able to help him, to stop him from choosing that path. But I wanted to. I wanted to help him out of it. The problem was that I began to spiral down my own path of endless struggle. One that was burying me, silencing me.
"That makes sense," he whispers, rubbing his hand along my shoulder.
I love this about him. He doesn't have to say much, but when he does, I feel lighter. Like a veil is lifted. He just has to be near me and suddenly the weight of everything dark just fades away. "Plus," I shrug my shoulders now, ready to toy with him, to bring out that joy he exudes. "Tom Cruise really isn't horrible to look at," I smile.
"Tom Cruise, huh?" the corner of his mouth just barely curving up.
"Yeah, why?" I try to innocently play off.
"I don't know. I guess I didn't really peg you as a Tom Cruise kind of girl."
He knows me well. "Actually, I'm not. But let's just say...you add that just right amount of confidence with the uniform, and well...things happen."
"Things?" he pulls me in closer, his lips dropping to my ear. I can feel the warmth of his breath down my neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps. "What kind of things does a uniform do to you, Amber?"
Oh fuck me. Seriously, bend me over the damn seats, take me to the nearest bathroom, I really don't care.
As I turn to face him, the lights dim and the screen lights up, but my eyes haven't left his. In the next moment, my lips are against his, and I know we won't be watching much of this movie, because, well...teenage hormones.
~~~
"So, what are we doing now?" I ask, my fingers gripping tightly around my hot coffee in one hand while the other is firmly wrapped up in Tommy's. Holding hands is such a simple concept yet can be so intimate. I mean, don't get me wrong it can be completely casual too, but when it's with the right person, when everything else in your body is imagining that touch in so many other tantalizing places, holding hands is extremely intimate.
"We're walking," he states the obvious.
"I can see that. But where? Do we have a destination?" I sound like a kid whose parents are surprising her with a vacation. So many questions.
"Not exactly," he answers, taking a small sip of his coffee now.
Hmm. I look out across the bare trees, some coated in a light layer of snow. Empty trees carry a certain beauty to them. Yes, they can be a bit drab, but at the same time, they represent the sleeping beauty before the awakening, before regrowth. I guess you could say I was a bare tree not too long ago. When I took off to California, not so different from when Tommy left his home. Different journeys, same destination.
"Tommy?" I question now, still aimlessly following him on this little walk. His eyes slide to mine, willing me to go on. "Why did you leave? Why did you move to California, leaving your family here?"
He takes a breath, his steps slowing a bit. "I just needed a change of scenery. To start somewhere fresh. Took a trip to California my senior year, and I don't know, something just kind of stuck."
I nod. "I get that."
"How about you? Why New York?"
"The same. Things with my twin were getting worse and I needed a change. After he got arrested, I decided to go into law and New York just seemed more and more like the right place to be."
He stops, pulling me back to look at him. "What? How did I not know this?"
I shrug my shoulders like it's nothing, except, it is something, and he sees it. "I wanted to be a lawyer. To help families like mine, people who are struggling to get back on the right path in life."
"So, what happened?"
"Simple," I shrug. "I met a guy, fell in love, and let him make my decisions for me."
His hand tenses in mine. I hate that it always comes back to this. I hate that no matter how far away I get, how many changes I make, Vince will always be part of my past.
"How about now?" he asks, letting the tension fall, at least for now.
"What do you mean?"
"Is that something you still want?"
I've never thought about that, never questioned whether that was still an option for me. Going back to law school would take a lot of time and money, two things I don't have, not as a single mom. But do I want it? I don't think I've ever stopped picturing that dream.
"Maybe," I reply. "Someday."
He nods, pulling my hand slightly as we continue walking. More empty trees, the setting sun creating an added layer of cold. My breath is a lot easier to see now and I still can't seem to find a destination anywhere within the vicinity.
"Okay, really," I pull at his hand, stopping him this time. "Where are we going?"
He smiles, pulling me in closer. "Amber, you asked me to show you pre-California Tommy. You wanted to know what it would have looked like if I was trying to win you over here," he looks around taking in the views of this small Oakwood town. "Well, every week there was one day back in California that I seemed to look forward to. Every Sunday, I got to walk beside you on that same beach. So, it doesn't matter which state we find ourselves in. There's one thing I know will never change. And that is that I want to walk beside you. It doesn't matter where we're going, what we're escaping, or why we're doing it, I just want to do it with you." He pulls me against his chest, his eyes still locked on mine. "So, will you walk with me, Amber?"
Melting. Again. I'm literally turning to liquid as we speak, coated in all the warm fuzzies and buzzing with those damn teenage hormones that don't seem to be leaving anytime soon.
Maybe this isn't a honeymoon phase. Maybe this desire to be in his presence, this overwhelming feeling of happiness is just a Tommy thing. Maybe it's possible that his love is entirely different than anything I've ever experienced. Maybe, this is that forever type of love.
I wrap my arms around his neck, continuing to close any lingering space between us. "Yes, Tommy. I will always walk with you."
And so, that's exactly what we do.
We walk.
Together.