I touch his face, tracing the ridge of his nose, down to the dip above his lip, and then over his mouth. His eyes are closed, but I know heâs not sleeping as he holds me to him in the bed.
Noah sleeps across the room, and Iâm not sure what time it is, but I know itâs early morning. Rain still taps the roof and windows.
I love you.
He didnât say it back, though.
He may never say it back.
Oh, the irony. Six months ago, I ran from a life of people who wouldnât talk to me and ended up falling for a guy who may never say a word to me. I stare up at him, threading my fingers through his black hair and picturing the little boy who lost all hope that day in that car when he was four.
I drop my eyes to the thin tattoo down the back of his neck, between his ear and his spine.
Credence. Iâm close enough to read it now. It means âbelief as to the truth of somethingâ.
Iâm not sure I understand.
And then, maybe I do.
If he doesnât tell me he loves me, then how do I know he does? What if Iâm what he wants until the snow melts and he can have Cici or any one of the girls in town?
What if I donât truly understand whatâs happening here, and Iâm more his than he is mine?
The truth isâ¦it doesnât matter. Iâm going to love him for as long as I can, because thatâs what makes me happy.
âCan I stay with you here?â I ask him.
He opens his eyes, peering down at me. Then, he shakes his head, pinching his eyebrows together like that would be the worst idea ever.
My pride is bruised until I choose to just believe he doesnât want me living in this hovel with no indoor plumbing.
âYou havenât been lonely?â I press.
He just trails his fingers down my arm, and after a moment, finally nods.
I lie my head on his chest, hearing Noah snore. âI remember the feeling of Miraiâs arms around me when I was sick,â I tell Kaleb. âI was little, but I remember how good it felt to be held.â I tighten my arms around him. âAnd to hold something. Itâs probably the most peaceful moment in my life that I remember. Until I stepped into the glen, that is.
It didnât register at the time, because I was so caught up in where I was and seeing the cabin, but itâs beautiful here. Hidden, serene, pure⦠His journal entries make sense now that I see it. I could do with a few more modern conveniences and maybe a few more people to talk to, but I can see why he loves it.
He doesnât have to face anything here. And I get it. Sometimes, we all need to hide.
âWhen the world feels small, nothing can hurt you.â I caress his stomach, feeling his abs flex under my hand. âYou want to stay there, because youâre protected. For a while anyway.â I stare off, thinking about him and me and how I hid inside myself all those years because I didnât want to be rejected anymore or hurt. âBut then you realize youâre the only one who fits there in that small world, and being alone feels worse than not feeling safe.â
Avoiding the bad means you risk avoiding the good, too, and Iâd rather be hurt than never not feel this. I inhale his skin.
âAnd speaking of safeâ¦â I take a deep breath and tilt my head up to look at him, changing the subject. âWhere the hell were you last night? Holed up in a cave? We were almost electrocuted.â
He smiles and flips me over, trailing kisses down my stomach.
âOh, no.â I stop him, forcing him to look at me. âNow that I have my senses about me, Iâm mad at you. We were worried. Really worried. Say youâre sorry.â
He gives my tummy a peck, holding my eyes.
âAgain.â
He inches up and kisses me again, a smile in his dark gaze.
âIâm still mad.â
He catches my nipple between his teeth and drags it out slowly. I gasp.
âYouâre just trying to shut me up now,â I grumble, but really, heat is pooling low in my belly. âJust because you like me to guess everything thatâs going on in your headâ¦â
He dives down and starts nibbling and teasing between my legs.
âOkay, yes,â I choke out. âNow I know whatâs going through your head.â
I feel his laugh against my clit before he resumes sucking on it.
The sheets are completely off me, and I look over at Noah, passed out on his stomach.
âNoah is right there,â I mouth to Kaleb.
He stops and cocks an eyebrow at me.
âShut up,â I tell him. âWe werenât thinking last night.â
Iâm well aware weâve already had sex once with his brother asleep mere feet away, but I shove Kaleb off and pull the sheet up over me. He can wait until weâre alone.
He huffs and crawls back up, lying down and tucking me under his arm. I snuggle in, reveling in his warmth.
He grabs something off the counter next to the bed and shoves it at me.
I hold up the paperback.
âWhatâs this?â I ask, reading the title. âThe Sirens of Titan?â
I look up at him, and he opens the book to where itâs dog-eared.
He hands it back to me, pointing.
âYou want me to read it?â I ask.
He nods.
I half-smile. I guess he does read.
And if Iâm not letting him do things to my body, then heâs still making me entertain him, I guess.
I remain under his arm, but flip onto my back and clear my throat. âChapter tenâ¦â
Jerking the wheel right, I plant my foot on the ground, letting the bike skid to a halt before speeding off again toward the house. I laugh behind my helmet, feeling Kaleb right on my ass as the dogs chase him, tails wagging.
Weâve been home for a couple weeks now, Noah and I having no trouble dragging Kaleb back down the mountain. I think he knew I wouldnât be comfortable up at the other cabin, and he wasnât about to let me go anywhere he wasnât going to be.
Jake plowed and salted the driveway this morning, and when his back was turned, we took the bikes.
I race to the house, my stomach doing somersaults at the wind and speed, and I brake, coming to a stop. Looking behind me, I watch as Kaleb slides to a halt, the vein in that damn gorgeous neck bulging as his arms flex.
I want to go back in the shower. With him and his hands and all the things his eyes and smiles whisper to me when weâre alone.
I havenât slept in my own bed for a single night since we got back.
âYou two!â I hear Jake bellow.
I jerk my head, straightening as he barrels out of the shop. Shit.
âOff!â he barks. âNow!â
I park the bike and climb off, trying to hide my smile.
He stalks over to us, looking at the McDougall bikes. âGreat. Now theyâre dirty,â he growls. âI have to clean them againâ No, you know what? Youâre cleaning them.â He points to Kaleb and then me, too. âYouâre both cleaning them!â
âWe were going to,â I tell him, taking off my helmet. âYou want some pancakes or something?â
He cocks an eyebrow and turns around, ignoring my sudden change in subject.
I throw a look at Kaleb. He just shakes his head.
Jakeâs moods have spiraled lately, and Iâm worried itâs my fault. Is he feeling guilty? Is he concerned for me? Is he jealous?
I havenât had a chance to talk to him. Kaleb and I are always together.
Or Kaleb makes sure weâre always together.
Not that Iâd choose to have it any other way. I just hope he trusts that Iâm well aware of who Iâm in love with, and he doesnât need to worry about his father and brother around me.
I jog after Jake. âAre you okay?â
âIâm fine.â
âI donât think you are.â
He heads over to the tool bench and picks up what he needs before turning to another work-in-progress.
He wonât look at me.
âIâm happy,â I tell him, because I know thatâs what he really cares about.
âI know.â
So what is it, then? I stand there, feeling Kaleb walk past me to the sink. He washes his hands, but I know heâs watching us.
âJustâ¦donât get pregnant,â he finally grits out. âYouâre only eighteen.â
âI know,â I assure him. âI wonât.â
âAnd youâre going to college.â
âI will.â
I think.
He glares at the bike heâs working on, seething. âAnd tell that woman,â he bites out, closing his eyes like the mere mention of her is going to send him over the edge, âthat if she doesnât stop calling every other day just to get in my face and ruin my goddamn peace of mind with all her questions and arrogant little comebacks, that I will burn every cell phone and computer in this house, so she canât ever get a hold of you again! And then Iâll put up an electric fence in time for the snow to melt so she canât get on the property!â
I fold my lips between my teeth, holding my breath, because my laughter is about to burst out.
So thatâs whatâs wrong. Mirai calls to talk to me, but she calls way more often than is necessary. And if I donât answer, she calls his phone.
The best part isâ¦as frustrated as he sounds, he always answers.
They fight every time. No one riles him up so much. Not even us.
I choke down my amusement and nod. âIâll tell her.â
He throws a wrench on the work bench and picks up another. Kaleb and I head into the house.
âChange that lightbulb!â Jake yells after us before we close the door.
I let out a laugh and Kaleb smiles, placing a peck on my forehead.
He walks to the cabinet and digs out a lightbulb, winking at me as he heads for the staircase.
The scent of the cinnamon rolls I put in the oven a half hour ago fills the air, and I shut off the timer, with only seconds left, and dig out the baking dish.
Shutting off the oven, I set the rolls down on a cooling rack and glance over at Kaleb as he hops onto the railing and then climbs onto a rafter to start scaling his way up to the chandelier. One bulb has been out for days. My heart skips a beat, watching him go higher and higher.
âOh, that smells good,â Noah says, entering the kitchen.
I spare him a glance, but I canât take my attention off Kaleb. âBe careful up there,â I call out to him.
I finally look away and grab a slicing knife out of the block, cutting the rolls. Noah hangs by the island, staring at me.
âSo, the snowâs easing up a little,â he says.
I add a little milk to the icing I made this morning and stir it, heating it over an open flame.
âYeah.â Itâs only late February, though, so winter is far from over.
I canât help but wish it was still November, and winter was just starting.
âIs all your coursework done?â he asks.
I turn off the burner and carry the icing over to the dish, dripping it over the rolls.
âTheyâre waiving my exams, but I have to write an essay and submit it with a photo journal by April thirtieth.â
I see him nod out of the corner of my eye. âIâm going to L.A. this spring,â he says. âIâve got a meeting with a sponsor, and I want to check out the scene there. Can I stay with you?â
Stay with me?
And then I rememberâas if Iâd actually forgottenâthat I have a house there. I told them I was leaving in April, didnât I?
âYeah,â I reply, barely audible. âOf course, you can stay at the house. As long as you want.â
I just might not be there.
He may as well use the place, though.
Heâs quiet, and I donât have the courage to look at him. I know heâs worried. Maybe a little angry. He deserves better.
Heâs taken the high road through everything. Heâs backed off and let me be happy.
But that doesnât mean heâs stopped caring. Part of me misses talking to him, too. He expects differently of me, and he wonât be happy with me if I decide to stay behind. Things have changed, though.
Inching in, he lowers his voice as Kaleb works far above us. âI would fight anyone who wronged my brother,â he says. âI do love him, Tiernan, but this life is not for you. Youâre leaving with me.â
My chin trembles, because Iâm worried that he has a point.
âI love you,â he whispers. âAs your cousin, as your friend, whatever, but Iâm dragging you out of here, because when the novelty of this wears off, youâre going to miss the world. He will make you miserable.â
I dart my eyes up to him, the icing pouring all over one roll, and I want him to stop. How can he say that? Thatâs his brother.
His blue eyes narrow on me. âHe needs someone braindead who doesnât care about dying in this town where nothing changes except the seasons,â he tells me. âYou might not have cared before, but I know thereâs a whole wide world you wouldnât mind seeing now. Heâs too volatile, too stubborn, and he will never leave this peak, Tiernan. Ever.â
I look away, blinking against the stinging at the backs of my eyes. Damn you, Noah.
âYou want more.â He takes the pot out of my hand and sets it down. âI know you do.â
Maybe. Maybe I want to see and experience things and have a career and try to make the world better and leave my mark.
Or maybe none of that would be worthwhile without someone to share it with.
I look at Noah, always knowing in my head that, in many ways, heâs better for me.
Heâs my head. The part of me that tells me what I already know. What I need to hear.
My heart, though⦠It feels everything I canât live without.
I tip my head back, gazing up at Kaleb as he stares down at us, having finished the lightbulb.
âHeâs your number one,â I hear Noah say. âHeâs not supposed to be the one you spend your life with, right?â