Falling Faster (The Falling series Book 1) Read online

  Craig once again extended his hand and helped Ty to his feet. His glittering gaze and small smile invited Ty to play. "Then I guess you might need a superhero around all the time?"

  "I wouldn’t turn one away." That spark of attraction returned and flashed brighter. Craig’s fingers tightened for a moment before he let go of Ty’s hand. Blowing out a breath, Ty forced himself to focus on the mess, not on flirting. He glanced at his T-shirt and jeans. No coffee splashes, thank goodness.

  They gathered the pamphlets and Ty spent time straightening the stacks until they were perfectly aligned. He worked side by side with Craig, asking questions about the charity, while Slater and Noah helped fix the cutouts and captured wayward papers that had drifted into the foot traffic.

  When everything had been set back in its proper place, Ty glanced at Craig, not ready to say goodbye. "All done. It’s like I was never here. Sorry again that I was a human wrecking ball."

  "I’m not. Ending up with you in my arms was the best thing I’ve had happen in a long time." Craig took a step closer, closing the distance between them. The intensity and interest in the gaze raking over Ty’s face set off twin buzzes of hope and desire. "If you’re not busy..."

  "Yes?" Quick and eager, the response burst from his lips. He didn’t care if his friends gave him a hard time for having zero game later, as long as Craig’s last four words were followed by something that kept him in the man’s company.

  Craig gestured at the display table. "I’m finished my shift here. And I’d like to make up for your sketchbook. Can I offer you a ride in a replica of the Batmobile? It’s parked outside."

  From the way Craig had lowered his voice, Ty figured the offer was anything but casual or easily extended. He forced his voice and his excitement level to match the same hushed tone. "Are you kidding? You drive a replica of the Batmobile?"

  "It’s not mine. It belongs to the foundation. Whoever is dressed as Batman drives it when visiting the kids or doing appearances. The car adds to the fantasy. You should see how excited the kids get. Makes me smile every single time." With a smile, he waved at someone behind Ty. "I have to return it to the foundation’s headquarters. Come take a drive with me."

  "Um, yes, absolutely. I’m there." But then he thought about his friends, and how much the experience would mean to Slater. "If you don’t mind, I know Slater would love to see it, too."

  "I would love to see what?" His friend walked up behind them, followed by Noah.

  When Craig turned toward Slater, his cape swooshed in the breeze from an overhead fan. "I have a replica of the Batmobile out back."

  "Seriously?" Slater’s eyes lit up and his gaze bounced from Craig to the exit and back again. "And you’re letting us see it? That’s so awesome."

  Noah slipped an arm around Slater’s waist. "You’ve made his year, Craig."

  Excitement shifted to something softer and warmer as Slater shook his head and gazed at Noah. "No. Noah, you’ve made my year, but yeah, Craig, this will be a close second."

  Feigning indignation, Ty crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow. He couldn’t help teasing Slater. "And what about me? Where do I fall in your list of hits for the year?"

  "Um..." As Slater paused, Ty could practically see the wheels turning as his friend tried to figure out a diplomatic answer. "A tie for second, as my best new friend?"

  Shaking his head, unable to keep his smile from showing, he shouldered his bag and then nudged his shoulder into Slater’s arm. "I guess I’ll take it."

  Two people in costumes, a man and woman dressed as Black Panther and Captain Marvel, arrived at the booth. Craig introduced them as his replacements and explained to Ty that each volunteer from the foundation would be taking a turn at the table over the length of the convention.

  Ty fell in step beside Craig as they walked away. The man’s presence was magnetic. Behind them, Slater and Noah were debating restaurants to try for dinner that evening. Minutes later, they emerged from the building. Bright, blinding sunlight greeted them. Wincing, Ty shaded his eyes and nodded his thanks at Craig for holding the door.

  Tucked in a private parking area, the replica Batmobile gleamed in the sunshine, black and sleek and amazing.

  "It’s..." His fingers itched to touch the car. Ty glanced from the car to Craig and back again. "I don’t even have words for it."

  "I do." Slater reverently ran a hand along the hood. "It’s awesome."

  The tips of Craig’s fingers brushed Ty’s skin from his bicep to his forearm, raising goosebumps in their wake. "You can touch it. Or get in. Whatever you want."

  The spark from the contact zipped right to his dick. For a moment, Ty held still, gaze locked on Craig’s warm brown eyes, suspended by the fireworks erupting through his system. When Craig lowered his hand and gestured to the car, Ty took a breath to get a hold on himself, opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat.

  He ran his palms along the steering wheel and checked out everything in the interior. "It’s so cool. I can picture us zooming off to fight crime somewhere."

  "Right?" Phone raised, Slater took photo after photo, including selfies with Ty, Noah, and Craig. "You should start thinking about your superhero name."

  Craig smiled and leaned his hip on the hood. "I kind of like The Hurricane."

  "Appropriate considering the levels of destruction they cause and Ty’s love of the villains," Noah added. He worked his way around the car, phone in hand, pausing every few steps to take another photo.

  "Ha ha." But Ty grinned and climbed out of the car to let Slater have a turn in the driver seat. Stretching, he reached for his phone. A few pictures were enough. He didn’t need, nor have the patience, to stand there clicking away attempting to ensure he'd captured every detail or angle.

  Noah stood in front of the car, phone raised, finger tapping away. "Looking good, Slater. Don’t worry, Ty, I got a bunch with you sitting there too. I’ll send them to you later."

  No matter how many times Noah—along with Slater—had done considerate things, both little and big, Ty was continually surprised and didn’t expect it. They were damn good friends, and he was grateful for them. "Thanks."

  "No problem."

  Slater exited the car, headed tipped toward Craig as the masked man said something too low for Ty to hear. He grinned as he rushed by Ty and Noah on his way to the other side of the car. "Craig’s taking me for a quick spin around the parking lot."

  "I’ll take a video," Noah promised as Craig climbed in. The engine roared to life and Slater waved, then blew Noah a kiss, which his friend returned. After they’d taken off, he glanced at Ty. "Thanks for including us in this. You didn’t have to do that."

  "Are you kidding? I couldn’t have just gone with Craig and not shared this with you guys. I knew how much this would mean to Slater."

  "You don’t even know how much. We found a place out here that does exotic car rentals and they actually have a replica just like this one, but it wasn’t available this weekend. Slater was pretty bummed. So, this is really special."

  Ty watched Craig’s profile as the car zipped around in a loop. "And it wouldn’t have happened at all if I hadn’t literally crashed into Craig’s space today."

  Still recording video, Noah pulled his focus from the screen. His expression turned serious and he laid his other hand on Ty’s shoulder. "You shouldn’t label yourself as a walking disaster, Ty. You beat yourself up too much."

  He shrugged his shoulders. The label had stuck for so long, he had more years with it, than without it. "I guess."

  "You do. Way too hard on yourself. Besides, I think Craig likes you just as you are."

  The car came to a stop in front of them. Slater hopped out, wearing a mile-wide grin. "All yours, Ty."

  Ty took a moment to capture the image of Craig in the costume and the car in his mind. Things like this didn’t happen to him. Ever. With a heady rush of anticipation, he bade his friends goodbye and climbed in.

  Craig smiled and brushe
d a finger along the back of Ty’s hand. "Ready to go?"

  He sucked in a breath as his body buzzed. "I’m ready for anything."

  Chapter Two

  Sunlight danced through the clouds and drenched the street. Craig drove along roads dotted by palm trees, attention captured by the long, lanky, blond man in faded jeans and a gray T-shirt emblazoned with Supervillain at his side. When he’d dived to save Ty from hitting his head on the concrete floor, something like electricity sparked from someplace deep within him, and crackled to life.

  In addition to being the cutest guy Craig had seen in a long time, Ty was friendly and sweet. Offering the ride in the car had been an impulse decision, spurred by the desire to prolong their connection. But the best things in his life had all come from impulse decisions. Something told him that Ty would be the same. He slowed to a stop for a red light. "Tell me about yourself."

  Ty’s rich brown gaze roamed Craig’s face, settling on the scar before returning to meet his stare. "What do you want to know?"

  "Everything. Let’s start with something easy. Are you local, or here for the convention?"

  "Convention. I live in Buffalo."

  "Which one?"

  "New York."

  Surprise tickled through him. "I grew up there."

  "Seriously? Small world. What part? I’m from East Amherst."

  "South Buffalo." Maybe the universe was trying to tell him something. His last visit home, during Christmas, seemed too long ago. "I still have family and friends there. I get back a few times a year."

  "How long have you lived in LA?" Ty’s long fingers were a distraction. Craig could easily imagine them grasping a pencil as he brought an image to life on a sketchbook’s page.

  The light changed to green and Craig focused again on the road. "I’ve been out here for close to ten years."

  Ty leaned back in the seat and lifted his face to the sun. He closed his eyes, smiling as he soaked up the warmth, immersing himself in the experience. "Do you like it? I’ve never lived anywhere other than Buffalo."

  "I did for a while, but lately I’m thinking I might need a change."

  "Change is good. I mean, not always, of course, but it can be. And if you’re feeling it in here," voice growing earnest, Ty laid his hand over his heart, "then you should do it."

  His passionate statement hung in the air. He obviously spoke from experience. Craig longed to touch him, to soothe any roughened places that might still be tender. "Sounds like there’s a story there. One I want to hear, but let’s wait until we’re out of the sweltering heat, and able to be face to face without any barriers between us."

  In the corner of his vision, Ty shifted, angling his body in Craig’s direction. "What do you do when you’re not in a mask and cape?"

  Craig turned the car’s fan up two notches, not quite ready to talk about his other career. "I’m a musician. But the mask and cape gig is my favorite role. I love the way the kids and even their parents light up, excited and happy, the smiles, the hugs. It’s an escape from the difficult situations they’re going through, and being a part of that is really special."

  Ty’s eyes sparkled and his smile lit up his face. Craig’s breath caught at how brilliantly he shined. "That’s how I feel about the world of comic books. Finding friendships in the fandom, being able to lose yourself within the colorful pages of a story, and characters that people identify with and see in themselves. That’s what I want to draw and create and bring to other people."

  "I didn’t get to see much of the inside of your sketchbook, but I love the reason you want to create things." Craig pulled into the foundation’s parking lot. "We’re here."

  He parked in the private garage and led the way indoors. After giving Ty a quick tour of their floor, he left him in the waiting room and quickly changed out of the costume. Dressed in his regular clothes, Craig paused by the locker room mirror and examined his reflection. Without the mask and cape, would Ty find him lacking, or would he like what he saw?

  Nerves spilled through him, not unlike the rush he got before every gig. Blowing out a breath, he raked a hand through his hair and then turned away from the mirror. The urge to shove his hands in his pockets or play with the leather strap that encircled his wrist was strong as he made his way back to Ty, but he resisted and forced a facade of calm confidence.

  Ty stood when Craig entered the room. His gaze lingered on Craig’s face—sparking a jolt to Craig’s system when their gazes collided—before journeying to his black T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, then back again. He sauntered closer, smiling, and closed the distance between them. "I like your tattoo."

  Craig glanced at his left forearm. The tattoo of a rose and thorns interwoven with music notes wrapped around his skin from his wrist to his elbow. He held still as Ty traced a finger along the stem. The touch was like tiny sparks of electricity. A live wire that only increased in strength when Ty’s chocolate gaze met Craig’s once again. He licked dry lips. "I got it when I was eighteen. Creating music is beautiful, but it can be painful too."

  Light came into Ty’s eyes and his fingers paused on Craig’s skin. "You said you were a musician. What do you play?"

  "Guitar, piano, and the drums."

  "So, what kind of musician are you? Are you in a band, or something else?"

  "Right now, I’m mainly a songwriter for other artists. But I moved out here with dreams of being a rock star."

  Ty trailed his fingers back and forth along the sensitive line of skin. He was close enough for Craig to see the lighter shade of caramel in his eyes and to smell the fresh scent of his shampoo. Imagining that delicate, teasing touch on other parts of his body was too easy and too tempting. "I’m impressed. A superhero and a rock star. This is my lucky day."

  The urge to touch Ty was too strong to ignore. Craig curled his fingers around the man’s warm hand, locking them together. "I feel like the lucky one."

  As their gazes held, Ty’s lips parted. He sucked in a breath and dropped his focus to their hands, then took a slow journey back to Craig’s face. "You don’t know anything about me yet."

  "Not true." He ticked each reason off on the fingers of his free hand. "I know you were nice enough to stick around and help clean up the display table. You didn’t have to do that. And you’re a good friend because you made sure your buddy wouldn’t miss out on something that obviously meant a lot to him. When we were taking that lap around the parking lot, Slater also told me that you’re helping him bring his comic book idea to life. And I know you’re an artist from Buffalo. That’s a good start."

  Laughing, Ty nodded. "All right." Then his gaze tracked to Craig’s other tattoo, peeking from beneath the shirtsleeve on his right bicep. "Can I look?"

  Craig inwardly cringed, but raised his sleeve to reveal the large smiling purple narwhal wearing a blue and yellow striped necktie.

  Ty’s brows shot up, then narrowed as he studied the ink. "Whoa. That’s... not at all what I was expecting."

  "Me either, when I woke up and found it on my arm." With a grimace, he elaborated, "I got it after a show, years ago, on my first tour. I was drunk, wasted to the point that I don’t remember anything after stumbling through the tattoo parlor’s doors with my band. But I guess I asked for this, or got talked into by one of the other guys. No one could remember how it went down. They were all in the same state as me. And we all ended up with tats."

  "The tattoo parlor shouldn’t have given you anything when you were in that condition." The quiet words were accompanied by a light flexing of fingers under their joined hands.

  "I agree. I don’t like the tattoo, and occasionally think about getting it removed or covered. For years while I toured, it was an effective reminder to never let myself get in that state again." Worry over what Ty was thinking rushed his words. "Not that I’m in that same place anymore. I’m not. That was all youth and stupidity and trying too hard to live up to an image. That night was the last time that I let myself get in that condition. I might make mistakes, bu
t I try my best not to make them twice."

  With a gentle smile, Ty stroked the narwhale’s horn. "I think it’s cute."

  "I guess I can live with cute." Happiness warmed through him like the rays of the sun, bright and beaming as they smiled at each other. Craig stepped the smallest bit closer, intent on eliminating the distance between them, craving the feeling of that tempting mouth against his lips.

  Ty raised his face, watching Craig with eyes heavy-lidded with desire. Then, in a blink, surprise skipped over Ty’s features. His free hand latched on to Craig’s forearm and those long fingers curled into his skin. "Band? On tour? Wasted? You really are a rock star, aren’t you?"

  Discomfort at the label rolled through him. Craig shook his head. "Not the star part so much. I’ve been in several bands, and some of them have had success. Others, not so much. But these days, I really am more of a songwriter. I play some shows here and there, but I’m trying to get away from touring."

  "That’s... wow. I don’t know what to say. You’re probably one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met." Ty released his hold and stepped back. He fidgeted with the strap on his bag and his teeth sank into his lower lip. "My life is boring compared to yours."

  "I sincerely doubt it." Craig took a step closer, but voices carrying in from the hall reminded him that they weren’t alone. "Let’s get out of here. We need to replace that sketchbook."

  "Craig." Ty shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Really, you don’t have to do that."

  "I insist. If someone spilled something all over my guitar, or my piano... Hell, I’ve spilled coffee and beer on lyrics I’m writing, so I know what it’s like to have your tools messed with or ruined." He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to erase from his mind the disappointed, deflated look that had crossed Ty’s face when he’d held the ruined sketchbook. "Let me do this."

  Ty cocked his head to the side and finally nodded. Then he lifted his chin, crossed his arms over his chest, and raised a brow. "All right. But only if after we’re done with that, I get to buy you a coffee to replace the one that spilled."