Touch the Sky (Free Fall Book 1) Read Free

site with my dick in my hand, rubbing one out. Same old, same old.
    I certainly won’t find a hookup in this straight rundown joint they’re lugging me to, a couple blocks down the road. But it’ll feel good to knock back a couple of beers. Especially since I’m feeling more like myself lately. My body isn’t dragging so much anymore and I’m waking up before the alarm more days than not.
    “First round is on me.” As soon as we’re through the door, I head up to the noisy bar. Most of the stools are taken, so I squeeze between two attractive ladies who I can feel are sizing me up. I get this a bit from men and women, if I’m being honest. Probably because I look like the typical California surfer dude with my blond hair and bronze skin. If I wasn’t sporting heavy work boots and a flannel shirt, of course.
    Outside of one brick wall, the bar appears inundated with wood badly in need of a good polish. The chairs, tables, and even the booths lining the perimeter need some shine. The only other color in this place comes from the bottles of liquor on display and a blinking beer sign in every corner.
    I lift my hand and when the bartender finally turns and heads in my direction, a gasp escapes my throat. My entire body becomes numb—from the roots of my hair to the soles of my feet.
    The bartender places his forearms on the edge of the bar top so he can lean over to hear me better. “What can I get you?”
    He doesn’t fucking recognize me. Maybe it’s not him. No, it’s got to be him. My gaze scans all around his face. The dark curls at his forehead, piercing green eyes, full lips, the small, jagged scar alongside his right eye.
    “Are you…” My throat is so damn tight, it’s hard to speak. “Lucas?”
    His brows knit together, yet his eyes still stare vacantly at me. In the photos we shared on-line, my hair was buzzed short. I’ve let it grow out since then and it’s blonder from working in the sun. My skin is darker as well and I’ve definitely filled out more. I’m no longer the skinny pimpled-faced kid who was desperate to make an on-line connection in that chat room.
    “Who wants to know?” Lucas asks, his voice hooking me like thorns. It’s deep and gravelly, not at all how I imagined it. But better. So much better.
    As we stare each other down, I can see his brain working, scrambling to understand where he might know me from. Damn, it’s like I’ve been erased from his memory or something, which fucking sucks.
    Some dude behind me complains about the slow service and springs me into action. “Uh, can I get two pitchers of Bud?” I ask and then add, “ Lucas .”
    “How the hell do you know my name?” he asks as he holds up a finger to a waiting customer down the bar. “You been in here before?”
    I shake my head. “No, man. I’m…”
    And all at once he looks completely thunderstruck. His hand comes up to swipe across his mouth as a line of red washes across his neck and cheeks and ears.
    “Gabriel,” he fills in the blank. “Holy fuck, you’re Gabriel.”
    I nod vigorously, as I grip the edge of the bar to steady my trembling fingers.
    “You came,” I blurt out, sounding like some over-excited kid. “You’re here, in Hollywood.”
    “Not because of you,” Lucas bites out, his lip curling into a sneer, his fists tightening at his sides. He’s pissed at me. So fucking pissed. And I get it. Without question. As far as he knows I ditched him for no reason. And I did—ditch him, in a way—but I had a reason.
    “I’ll get your order,” he says as I duck my head, shame coloring my cheeks.
    As he walks to the middle of the bar, I can’t stop my entire body from shuddering. Lucas is here. Right the fuck in front of me. He’s so damn mad about how things went down. How I left him dangling, my life a complete disaster at the time.
    But fuck, he’s beautiful. His ass molds to those faded jeans and his arms are built, like maybe he lifts weights or is used to carrying heavy