Weightless (33 page)

We stopped again when we found a large rope swing, taking turns riding it out above the water before dropping in with a splash. I was in another two-piece bathing suit, one I’d purchased myself, and Rhodes took a photo of me in it mid-swing. He motioned me over once I resurfaced to show it to me and I smiled. I looked so free, so happy, so confident.

While Rhodes looked over the map he’d taken from Clint, I pulled on my white cover up and rested on a large log extended out over the water near the swing. I laid on my back, watching the clouds float the opposite way of the current, the sun glittering behind them. There was a soft, cool breeze over the water and it flowed through my hair as I rolled over onto my stomach.

I was face-to-face with my reflection in the dark river as I hung off the log, one arm hanging down toward the water. I studied the girl looking back at me — her long, dark blonde hair, slightly lighter at the ends from the summer sun. Her eyes were wide, cheeks high, smile genuine. She was far from the broken girl I’d seen in the mirror the first night Rhodes touched me.

That summer changed me — not just on the outside, but the inside, too. I didn’t look at life as a burden or a puzzle I didn’t fit into anymore. Instead, it was a beautiful challenge, one I didn’t have to face alone. The girl gazing up at me from the river might have been thirty pounds lighter than the girl who entered that summer, but she was also thirty times stronger. She was smarter, more experienced — and she had no limits.

Extending my pointer finger, the tip just barely touched the surface of the water, sparking a ripple that distorted my face first before taking the rest of my body with it. It was then that I realized my life was my own. I could do anything, be anyone, if I only had the courage.

When Rhodes called my name, motioning back to the canoe, boyish grin locked on his face, I nodded and leaned up on the log. But before I jumped into the water, I glanced back down at River Natalie one more time, appreciating her for how far she’d come and knowing that there was still so much more to come for her, too.

I’d been so focused on losing weight, on getting to a certain point where I thought I’d find happiness. It turned out that joy wasn’t made by the destination, but rather discovered in the journey.

I looked forward to the next mile in mine.

About an hour later, we came upon a large treehouse extending about twenty feet above the water. There was a fire pit just below it and a hammock hanging between two trees sticking up through the water of the river.

“Wow,” I breathed. “How neat is this?”

“Glad you like our home for the evening.”

I spun around. “Are you serious?”

Rhodes smiled, steering the canoe toward the house. Once we reached the bank, he hopped out and steadied it as I did the same before pulling it up onto shore. We each grabbed a bag and Rhodes lifted the cooler.

“We’re staying here?”

“We are. It’s all ours tonight.”

I couldn’t help the giddy feeling coming over me. I was never much of a camping kind of girl, but I always wanted a treehouse. Dale never built me one, he said it would be an eyesore on our perfect yard.

This house was the farthest thing from an eyesore.

We climbed up the wooden steps to the entrance, revealing an outdoor dining area complete with a rocking chair and tiki torches. Just inside was a small but clean and cozy futon, a make-shift kitchen with gas grill and cooking utensils and plenty of oil candles. It was just like any treehouse I’d ever dreamed of, except adult-size. All I needed was a
No Boys Allowed
sign. Sneaking a peek at the sliver of skin between the hem of Rhodes’ shirt and his swim trunks as he reached up to tuck our cooler onto a shelf in the kitchen, I swallowed.

Never mind about that sign.

“Are you hungry yet?”

“Not really. Can we explore?”

Rhodes smiled. “Absolutely.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon hiking, swinging off rope swings into the river, and lounging in the hammock out front. We talked about a little of everything, including how Rhodes had been looking into culinary schools. It was as if we were finding our confidence together — me in my body, Rhodes in his ability to be better than his past. It’s amazing how just having someone believe in you can suddenly make something that seemed so impossible to achieve feel like it’s only a matter of
when
, not if.

After dinner, Rhodes and I sat around the fire pit listening to the nature all around us. We made s’mores, which shocked me since I’d never seen Rhodes eat anything outside of his strict meal plan, and I played around with my camera, catching different shots of Rhodes through the flames of the fire.

“Why do you love photography?”

I smiled, snapping another photo of him. The orange glow from the fire played against the shadows of the night on his face. “I told you once before. You don’t remember?”

“You told me you’re nerdy about it and it’s your passion. But you never told me
why
.”

I frowned, realizing I didn’t really know the answer. “I guess I just love the power of being able to temporarily freeze a moment in time, even if it’s not as good as the real thing. I like being able to pick up a photo, close my eyes, and feel that place and time again.” I flipped through a few settings on my camera and took another shot. “We have thousands of memories and our brain is like a never-ending filing cabinet. But sometimes you forget about something until someone reminds you to pull that file. That’s what photos do for me. They take me back.”

“And what about the future?”

I dropped my camera into my lap, adjusting my position on the small tree stump. “I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to shoot photos for the future, photos that would drive me and make others who weren’t in my memories feel something powerful. But, I guess, to be honest, I’m just kind of lacking inspiration.”

It hurt to admit, because I’d always thought photography was the one thing in my life I had complete control over, but the truth was that I knew I had so much work to do to really hone my skills. It was part of the reason I wanted to go to an art school, not a state university.

Rhodes seemed lost in thought across the fire. After a moment, he slowly rose and pulled me to my feet, too. Sliding his hands into my hair, he pressed his lips to mine, claiming my mouth with his own. It was a possessive kiss. It was needy, yet patient and sure. He broke it long enough to whisper against my lips.

“So let me inspire you.”

Suddenly, the fire’s heat seemed so futile.

In one fluid movement, Rhodes lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles. His mouth never left mine as he climbed the stairs. He laid me down softly onto the futon and stood, grabbing his shirt at the back of his neck and pulling it up and over his head. In the candlelight, the ridges of his abdomen were highlighted even more than usual. I bit my lip in anticipation of having him pressed against me.

Moving to the edge of the futon, I slid my hands over his muscles, and each one tensed with the touch. I pressed my lips to his skin, kissing him over and over. His hands found my hair, and the urge to take control hit me.

“I want to try something,” I whispered, untying his board shorts. I tugged them down over his hips and they fell to the floor. Rhodes was so hard, so ready. He kicked the shorts to the side and stared down at me as I took him in my hand. Groaning, he flexed into my grasp as I moved my hand up and down his length in a slow and steady rhythm. Hesitantly, I bent forward and just barely touched his tip with my lips.

Rhodes growled, grabbing my chin between his forefinger and thumb and tilting my face to meet his. “Natalie,” he breathed. I wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a plea.

“I want to try,” I repeated, swallowing. “But I need you to show me how.” I’d never gone down on Mason, mostly because I’d never had any desire to see him come apart at my touch. With Rhodes, it was all I craved. I wanted to make him feel the way he made me feel — powerful, wanted, sexy.

He cursed, looking up to the ceiling like God would help him maintain composure. I took it as permission, sliding my tongue flat against his length before taking him in my mouth. He groaned, rolling his hips in time with my mouth, careful to not push too deep.

Grabbing my hand in his own, he showed me how to stroke him where my mouth wouldn’t meet. He coached me through swirling my tongue and when I pulled him in too deep and gagged, he moaned. Apparently, gagging was a good thing.

Who knew?

I did it again, pulling him in a little deeper and letting my natural reflexes take over. This time, he cursed and pulled back.

“You’re trying to kill me.”

“On the contrary. I’m trying to make you come.”

Rhodes smirked at my forwardness and I blushed. He bent to my lips, covering them with his own and slowly laying me back on the thin mattress. Effortlessly, he stripped my clothes off, piece by piece, littering the treehouse with them as he did. When he slid between my legs, pressing his hard on against my inner thigh, my breath caught and I held on tight to his biceps. He reached blindly for his wallet, but I grabbed his hand with my own.

“I just want you.”

Rhodes furrowed his brows, unsure. I’d been on birth control for two weeks and I wanted nothing more than to feel him,
only
him, inside me. I physically ached for that uncensored connection.

“Please,” I thrusted my hips up to meet his, the tip of him sliding to my wet opening. He inhaled stiffly, pressing his forehead to mine.

“You’re so light, Natalie.” He shook his head, but gripped me tighter. “I’m afraid I’ll ruin you with my darkness.”

I kissed him hard, tugging on his bottom lip with my teeth as I struggled for a way to make him understand.

Pressing my hands firmly against his chest, I slipped from beneath him and crossed the room. I blew out the candle on the small coffee table before moving to the next in the small kitchen. One by one, I extinguished the flames before making my way back to him.

He pulled me to straddle his lap and I locked my fingers behind his neck. I could barely see him, only the soft natural light from the stars and moon sneaking in through the open windows lit the house. Still, I could feel every inch of him pressed against me, I could hear his heart hammering in his chest, I could smell the scent of his body wash mixed with his desire.

“Sometimes, the darkness is where you find yourself.” Carefully, I slid down onto his length, feeling every naked inch of him for the first time as I took control. “Let me find myself in you.”

Rhodes groaned, his jaw falling slack as he tilted his eyes to the sky.

He rolled his hips into me and I gasped at the fullness. We blindly felt for each other, kissing and touching to find where we wanted to be. His breaths were in my ear, his tongue was on my skin. He was everywhere. I was nowhere. He completely surrounded me.

Just like the darkness.

It was in the moonlit shadows of that night that I found myself. Rhodes wanted to inspire me, but the truth was that it was the possibility of what we could be together that inspired me most. For one night, even if that was all there could be, I lived inside a passion I never knew existed with a man I never saw coming.

Rhodes was an unanticipated thunderstorm.

And I danced in his rain.