Her arm whips out, knocking pieces off my Harry Potter Wizard Chess board, some tumbling to the floor.
I wince.
“Noah, get up!” I hear my father shout on the other side of my bedroom door. His footfalls fade as he descends the stairs.
Fuck. The chick on top of me leans down, grabs the headboard, and rolls her hips up and down my cock. Come on… The hard flesh pulses with heat, but I can’t seem to get there. I grip her hips, guiding her faster and faster.
“Am I hotter?” she gasps.
“Yeah.”
“And my tits?” She cradles the back of my neck, shoving her breast in my face. “You like them better?”
I manage half an eye roll, but I give her nipple a bite for good measure. She does have nicer tits than Rory, but at least Rory knew what foreplay was. This chick trying to jump on my cock at six in the morning and expecting it to be immediately standing at attention is just downright offensive.
Luckily, I was able to conjure a sordid memory from high school to get me ready.
Leaning back up, she runs her hands over her body, squeezing her breasts as her blonde hair falls all around her. Then she slams the wall next to the bed with her hand and groans in pleasure.
Jesus, fuck. If Tiernan wasn’t awake in there, she is now.
I pull Remi’s hand down from the wall and sit up, kissing her to shut up her moaning. Being loud at night is one thing. Loud in the morning reminds everyone I’m late for work, because I’m fucking my ex’s eighteen-year-old sister in here.
“Noah!” my dad bellows again from downstairs.
Yeah, yeah… Just come already. Come on…
My head swims. I’m not into this.
But I don’t want to leave the room and deal with my father, either. I move my body faster, kissing her neck, pulling her hair, and fuck her from the bottom, her moans getting louder.
Come on, baby. Come.
“I love fucking you,” she croons.
I nod. Yeah, okay.
“I’m glad I got my turn up here.”
Your turn…
“Go hard,” she pants. “I’m daddy’s little whore.”
Ew. What the fuck? I close my eyes, my stomach rolling.
“You won’t hurt me, Noah,” she says.
Shhhhh…ut the fuck up.
“I dare you to try.”
That’s it. I grit my teeth and circle her waist, flipping us both around and pinning her on her back. I cover her mouth with my hand as I push her knees wide, spreading her open.
I fuck her hard and fast as my bed rocks, the floorboards creak, and I stare out the window behind my headboard. I just want this to be over.
I clench my jaw, the feel of her sweat making me feel like the walls are closing in. I want it off me.
I close my eyes.
I need out of this room.
Out of this house.
Out of the woods.
Off the mountain.
I don’t care if I ever see another fucking tree in my life, because maybe now that I’ve fucked every woman within fifty miles and can’t look at myself in the mirror anymore, I’ve reached the end of my rope and won’t be so chicken shit that I can’t stand up to my dad.
Nights are better. When I’m tired, and I just want some ass before I go to bed, but in the morning… I don’t wake up wanting to be where I am and looking forward to doing shit I don’t want to do. I’m bored.
In another minute, I feel her moans vibrate on my palm, her pussy contracts, squeezing my cock, and I grunt as I finish her off, forcing hard breaths in her ear, so she thinks I finished, too.
My skin itches where it touches her.
I remove my hand.
“I love the feel of your cum inside me,” she breathes out.
I didn’t come. And I’m wearing a condom, Dunderhead.
“Noah!” And I hear the baseball bat hit the log column downstairs. “Get up!”
I wipe my face with my hands and roll off Remi.
Fucking prick. A cool sweat covers my body, and I stand up and pull off the condom, tossing it. I pull on my jeans as I throw her T-shirt to her, but I can feel her eyes on me as she sits up. I need some goddamn air and some space to wallow in my shame.
If I can’t come even once, that’s unacceptable. I’m good in bed, goddammit. Women leave my room happy.
Not like the Boulevard of Broken Dreams that’s my father’s bed when they realize he only wants sex and not a relationship or Skid Row upstairs in Kaleb’s room where women are lucky to leave alive.
I, on the other hand, am really good at this shit.
Remi stares at me, a flirty smile on her lips like we’re supposed to make plans for next time or something, but I just dip down and give her a quick peck on the lips that hopefully says, “bye.”
And please, please be gone when I get back from the shower.
I turn around, grab a Bud from my little fridge, and leave the room, shutting the door behind me.
I twist off the top and slide it into my pocket. I’m gonna need a buzz this morning.
Carrying the beer across the hall, I hear footfalls to my right and look over to see Tiernan stomping up the stairs.
She sniffles, not really looking sad but frustrated. “So nasty,” she growls to herself, her voice thick with a sob. “I have… like chicken shit under my fingernails. So gross. Why is he so weird? Just buy your chicken at the store like everyone else, you know?”
My snort almost escapes, but I keep quiet. She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I don’t want her to. She’s too damn funny, and I like watching her get pissed off. My only little ray of sunshine in this big ol’ shithole.
Although, I do sympathize with her. Cleaning out the chicken coops is no party.
“And it better be done good enough for him, because I’m not…” And she breaks into air quotes, “doing it fifteen times until I get it right.” She mimics my father’s deep voice and dumbass alpha orders.
I laugh to myself, utterly delighted. Someone who hates him as much as I do.
Okay, okay. I don’t hate him. I just… hate myself.
She heads for the bathroom, and I can’t stop myself as I rush over and grab the door handle before she can.
“There’s another bathroom downstairs,” I tease, unable to keep myself from fucking up her morning some more.
“I need the shower.” She scowls up at me, her eyes red but her mouth tight. She sports cute French braids down both sides of her head and tries grabbing the handle from me.
“We’re going fishing,” I argue, shoving my body in front of hers in our battle for the door. “You’re just going to get dirty again.”
She slaps my hand. “I was here first!” And then she yanks at my arms and shoves at my chest. “If you have to piss, then you do it downstairs.”
“I need a shower, too.”
“Why?” she mocks, repeating my words back to me. “We’re going fishing.”
“’Cause I got dirtier than you did this morning,” I laugh out, taunting her.
She shoots me a dirty look, telling me she knows exactly how I got dirty, but neither one of us gives up. I yank one of her braids, she elbows me, and I laugh, seeing a little smile peek out from her, too, as we battle.
I finally get the door open only for her to shove herself in front of me to try to get into the bathroom first. I step on her foot and she stumbles, but I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her back as she grabs hold of the doorframe, not giving up the ship.
Laughter rolls through me, the sudden urge to take her to the ground and tickle the shit out of her clawing at me. I can’t wait to get her to the lake. I’m not sure I’ve ever played with a woman I wasn’t worried about screwing.
I pull her off the doorframe, and she screams, but it evolves into a laugh as her legs—bare in jean shorts—kick at me, and her stinky Vans hit the wall.
“Shit, you stink,” I say. “Did you roll around in shit or something?”
“I stepped in it!” she growls.
I chuckle. It’s like having a little sister. Maybe the day won’t wind up so badly, after all.
But just as I finish the thought, another voice pierces the silence. “Noah?” someone says.
My stomach sinks, and I halt, my smile slowly falling. Tiernan and I fall silent, and I release her, both of us standing upright as we turn our heads toward my bedroom door.
Remi stands there in the doorway, watching us.
And she clearly didn’t take the hint to leave as she’s only dressed in one of my T-shirts instead of her own clothes.
She crooks her finger at me, and I’d rather cut off my left ball.
I push Tiernan into the bathroom, following her, and slam the door shut, locking us in. I push her down on the toilet.
“What the hell are you doing?” She glares up at me.
“Just sit down,” I order her, reaching behind the shower curtain and turning on the water. “Just… sit down until she leaves, okay?”
“Why?”
Because I need a cock blocker. Why do you think, dumbass? If I shower alone, Remi might try to join me or some shit.
“Just do what I say,” I tell her instead.
Tiernan’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion, and I shake my head.
Remi’s sweat feels like it’s sitting on my lungs with the thousand other mornings of waking up to faces just like hers. I’m nothing, and the longer I’m not drunk, the longer I have to face that fact. I take a swig of the beer.
But as I drink, Tiernan bolts off the toilet seat and leaps for the door.
I grab the back of her jeans and haul her back, her body slamming into mine.
“Noah!” she scolds.
But I wrap my arms around her anyway, pulling her away from the door. “Don’t leave me. She wants my body again.”
“Ugh.”
I hold her, taking another big swallow.
But then a knock hits the hardwood, and we still.
Nooooo…
“Noah?” I hear Remi call. “Are you coming to the bar tonight?” the girl asks through the door.
“Yes!” Tiernan shouts. “He’s com—”
I clamp my free hand over her mouth.
And then another bellow sounds from downstairs. “Noah!”
I flinch. What the fuck? Is everyone obsessed with me today? Thank God Kaleb can’t talk, too.
Tiernan thrashes in my arms, and I don’t know why, but I squeeze her tighter as I back away from the locked door, closing my eyes.
“Noah!” he shouts again.
“I’m in the shower!” I finally belt out at my father downstairs.
Jesus.
But just then, Tiernan slams her heel into my leg, and I stumble backward, falling with her in my arms.
The backs of my knees hit the bathtub, I lose my footing, and we both fall back into the tub, Tiernan still in my arms as she crashes against my chest.
She yelps, tearing the shower curtain off a couple rings as my spine hits the porcelain and her head bangs back into my chin.
I grunt.
“Oh, my God,” she cries, spitting water as the shower drenches her clothes and hair and she tries to sit up. “You’re insane. What the hell?”
But I clamp a hand over her mouth and pull her back. “I need you to stay.”
The water sprays down as steam billows in the air, and I train my ears, listening for the people I’m hiding from as my stomach knots because I’m obviously a fucking girl.
“Noah!” Dad bellows again.
I drop my head back, letting out a sigh. “Why won’t he just fucking shut up?”
I take my hand away from her mouth, but when she tries to bolt, I grab the back of her collar and pull her back to me again.
“They’ll go away if we’re really quiet,” I tell her.
“Have you seen your father?” she spits back. “He’s bigger than the door, Noah. All he has to do is push really hard with his hand, and if he breaks in here, he’ll make me do more chores, and I already did my morning stuff!”
“Shhh!” I cover her mouth with my hand again. “They’ll shut up if we’re really, really quiet.”
She mumbles behind my hand, something sounding like, “You’re an idiot.”
I smile. It kind of feels like being a kid, hiding from our parents. Like hide and seek. I never had much of that. Kaleb stopped talking when I was three—too young to remember, so I can’t ever recall him as playful.
There were a few times with my father, though. Some good memories before he got older and angrier.
I look down at Tiernan.
I was angry with her yesterday.
But then I wasn’t.
They don’t talk to me. No one talks to me.
I wanted to wring her neck one minute, but then the next, I wanted to hold her.
I got it. I knew what was wrong.
She sucks in quick, sudden breaths, and I pinch her nose before she can sneeze.
It cuts loose anyway as she spits on my hand, and I snort at the little whimper she lets out. I rinse off my hand and wrap my arm around her again.
“What was it like in L.A.?” I ask her. “Tell me something about your life.”
Anything. I want to go somewhere, even if we can’t leave the tub.
But she remains silent.
I lean my head back again, staring up at the ceiling.
“You ever feel like you’re in a box?” I mumble. “And all you see are your four walls no matter what you do? No matter how far you walk, the view never changes?”
“You can’t ask me what to do to be happy,” she says. “I came to Colorado.”
Yeah, that won’t work for me.
But for her…?
“Did it work?” I ask, tugging her braid gently when she stays quiet. “Cuz?”
She jerks her head away, throwing me a scowl, but I see the smile peek out. “I like my view a little better, yeah.”
But then she does a double-take. “Your nose is bleeding.”
I wipe it, pulling my hand back and seeing blood on my fingers. I rinse it off with water a few times, clearing the blood away.
“You don’t need to be so violent,” I say as I jab her in the side for head-butting me.
She squirms. “No, stop,” she argues as I jab some more. “I’m not a fan of tickling.”
I laugh and continue to dig my fingers into her sides. She squeals, trying to get away, but there’s nowhere to go.
“Noah?” A pound lands on the door. “You comin’ out? I have to leave.”
Tiernan looks at me, and I jab her once more.
“Noah’s not here,” I tell her what to say.
She slaps my hand away. “No.”
“Say it.”
“No!” she whisper-yells.
I jab her again, and she recoils. “Say it.”
“It’s mean,” she replies through tight lips. “No!”
I grab her arm. “I’ll snake bite you.”
She slaps me as another knock lands on the door.
I go for it. Fisting her forearm with both hands, I see her eyes go wide with fear, and I twist, watching her go kicking and screaming.
“Ow!”
We tussle, water flying everywhere, and she kicks and hits, her elbow almost landing right in my crotch.
“Stop it,” she sputters, but she breaks out in uncontrollable giggles, and I release her finally.
“You’re laughing,” I tell her.
“I’m not.” She sits up, righting herself.
My breathing calms, and my heartbeat slows again as she pushes stray hair out of her face but makes no move to leave the shower yet.
I lean back, both arms resting on the sides of the tub and her leaning against the wall, her legs up and her Vans hanging over the side of the tub.
“Why don’t you want to smile?” I ask her.
She doesn’t ask for anything—doesn’t seem to want anything. She acted like it didn’t hurt her yesterday when Kaleb excluded her.
I reach out, grazing my thumb over the skin between her eyebrows. “The wrinkles are always up here,” I tell her and then move my hand down to the corner of her mouth where her laugh lines should be. “But not here.”
She looks over at me. The water spills around us, and I spot drops streaming down her face and catching between her lips. Lips that are full and pink and look like gum, soft and chewable.
On reflex, I clench my teeth.
“Noah!” My father pounds on the door.
But I barely blink, unable to stop looking at her. Her wet legs, the water gliding down the sliver of chest visible, because of the lost button on my shirt…
Tiernan holds my eyes. “Noah’s not in here,” she calls out.
And I grin. Reaching out, I tickle her neck, and she tries to bite me before I pull away, laughing under my breath.
My father’s footsteps fall away, and I’m not sure if he believes Tiernan or not, but at least he’s backing off.
Hopefully, Remi is on her way, too. I used to feel bad about trying to get girls out of my house after we were done, but I can’t muster the effort to care.
It’s not Remi’s fault, though. I know that. She’s just a reminder of how cheaply my time is spent.
Tiernan digs behind her and brings up my beer bottle, which I lost at some point.
She raises her eyebrows at me.
“We’re going fishing,” I tell her. “It’s day-drinking day.”
And I snatch it out of her hand, feeling that it’s still half-full before I take a swig.
She shakes her head, but I spot the smile in her eyes.
We’re quiet for a few seconds, and I kind of feel like she doesn’t want to go out there, either.
“I love the beach,” she finally murmurs.
I shoot my eyes up to her.
“In L.A,” she clarifies, not looking at me. “It was my only favorite thing, I think.”
Oh, right. I asked her about her life in California.
She glances at me, a smile peeking out. “I can see you there,” she muses.
Damn right, you can. I fit in everywhere.
She pauses as she stares off. “When I was fourteen, I was obsessed with oldies music. I don’t know why.”
I listen, liking having someone to talk to in the house.
She continues, “I found out that Surf City, U.S.A. was actually Huntington Beach, California. So one rainy morning, I took my father’s ’47 Ford Woody,” she laughed a little, “—the only thing he owned that I loved—and I drove to Surf City. My parents were still in bed, and I was on spring break from school. I had never taken one of his cars. I didn’t even have a license yet. I just grabbed a backpack stuffed with books and… drove.”
She drops her eyes, something I can’t read creasing her brow. I narrow my gaze as I watch her absently fiddle with the hem of my shirt that she wears.
Something happened that day.
When she speaks again, her voice is almost a whisper. “It was still early when I got there. I sat down on the beach, watching the morning waves roll in.” A wistful look fills her eyes. “It was so beautiful. People love looking at the ocean at sunrise or sunset, but I love looking at it right before the sun is up or right after sundown.” A glint of excitement lights up her gray eyes as she looks over at me. “Everything is so calm, and the water has this blue-gray hue, like storm clouds. An ocean of storm clouds,” she muses. “The sounds of the waves are like a metronome through your body. The rain tapping your shoulders. The infinite horizon and the dream of just going and losing yourself somewhere out there. No one’s there. It’s peaceful.”
A solemn look comes over her, and I hold my beer in both hands, watching her.
“After a while,” she continues, “I finally stood up, lifted up my backpack, and strapped it on. It was so heavy with books, my knees almost buckled.”
She swallows.
“But I stood strong,” she mumbles. “And walked into the water.”
I tighten my hand around the bottle. Walked into the…
“I walked until the water came up to my waist,” she says quietly, staring off. “And then up to my shoulders.”
With a pack of books on her back, weighing her down.
“And when the water hit my mouth, I started swimming,” she tells me. “Struggling as I tore through the water as fast and hard as I could, because I wasn’t strong, and I knew any second the weight of the pack would take me down, but I wanted to go farther. I needed it to be deeper.” She hesitates, whispering her words like she’s thinking out loud. “So deep I couldn’t make it back. So I wouldn’t be able to make it back. My feet no longer brushed the ocean floor. I was going. Farther and further.”
I know that feeling. The edge we dance when we want to get to the point of no return, so we have no choice but to keep going, but I always chicken out. I always fear doing things I can’t undo.
“I remember that last moment,” she says, droplets glimmering across her now-tanned skin. “When my muscles burned, because I’d used every ounce of strength to keep myself and the pack up. The last moment, knowing I was about to go under. The weight pulling me down.” She shook her head gently. “Let myself go. Let it happen, I told myself. Just do it. Just do it. Just let me go.”
I can see her, some pier close by as she fights to keep her head up and knowing there’s almost nothing saving her from the fathom below.
“I dropped the pack.” She blinks. “I didn’t even go under.”
Logically, I knew that. She’s still here, isn’t she?
But still, I’m glad to hear it wasn’t a hard decision to stay.
“Why’d you drop it?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t serious.”
I reach out and graze her jaw with the backs of my fingers. “Or maybe you knew you had this and you were going to be okay.”
Everyone contemplates suicide at some point, even if it’s just for a minute.
And one thing is usually the root cause. Loneliness.
She should’ve been with us. Why didn’t my father make contact? Invite her for the summers? Her parents would’ve let her. Probably would’ve been happy to get rid of her.
And I would’ve been happy with someone to talk to, too. Less lonely myself.
“Did they ever realize you snuck out?” I ask.
She nods. “About a month later. When they got the bill for all the overdue library books I dumped at the bottom of the ocean.”
A laugh bursts out of me, and I tug on her braid again, seeing her smile, too. First lesson in stealing Dad’s car, sweetheart—cover your tracks.
I take another swig and pass the beer to her. “Do you ever go back to that beach?”
“Every time it rains,” she replies, turning to look at me. “Except now I just bring one book and my earbuds.”
She takes a big drink and passes the bottle back.
I like this. I can’t remember the last time this house felt this good.
“You’ve got this,” I hear her say.
I look up to see her watching me.
“And you’re going to be okay,” she finishes.
She repeated my words back to me.
And better yet…I didn’t have to tell her. If only my father could see anything beyond the end of his nose.
“Rinse off,” she says, standing up. “And hurry up about it.”
I down the rest of the beer, leaving it on the soap dish, and rise up, switching places with her. Our chests brush as she squeezes past, and I tip my head back, letting the water run over my scalp. She immediately turns toward the back of the tub to give me privacy.
“You might want to get out.” I tug her braid twice. “So I can get naked.”
“I’m dripping wet.”
Suit yourself.
I peel off my jeans and wring them out, tossing them out of the shower and seeing her eyes follow. Her back straightens as she locks her hands behind her back in some forced calm.
I wash and rub the muscles in my neck, but I can’t take my eyes off her back the whole time.
She needs a lot, and all of them are things you can’t buy. She needs to laugh and get drunk. She needs to be tickled and cuddled and carried and teased. I don’t want to see her cry, but if she does, I want her to know there’s comfort.
She has a home.
I shove the showerhead toward the wall, so I’m clear of the water, and grab a towel off the rack, wrapping it around my waist.
Approaching, I stand just behind her, enjoying her nervousness. She’s barely breathing.
And then a thought of what else a young woman might need occurs to me, and my smile falls.
How does she feel when she gets carried away?
I take her braid, rubbing the hair between my fingers as I lick my suddenly dry lips.
She looks up at me, her eyes big for once, and I blink, snapping myself out of it.
I gently pull on her braid again. “Blueberry pancakes?” I ask.
I bat my eyelashes, giving her my best pouty face.
“With extra blueberries?” I beg.
She purses her lips and crosses her arms, looking away again.
But she doesn’t say no.
“Thanks.” And then I plant a kiss on her forehead and yank down hard on her braid again, chuckling and jumping out of the tub as she slaps my back in my escape.
I pull the shower curtain closed for her and take another towel off the rack, drying my hair.
Turning around, I reach for the door and unlock the knob, but then I see something come out of the shower out of the corner of my eye and stop.
Tiernan’s flannel—my flannel—lays on the floor outside the tub, discarded.
I dart my eyes up, squeezing the door handle as the shape of her through the white shower curtain moves. Jean shorts fall next, and I look away, still gripping the handle.
My body warms.
I can already hear it. The winter winds that will blow through the attic in a couple short months. The smell of the snow that will come this winter.
Months of a quiet house and darkness and rooms with her in them. Moments, showers, corners, silent nights…
And for once, I might be excited to be here for it.
Without thinking, I twist the lock again and look over at her through the curtain.
I can almost see her underwear sticking to her body. Remember the toned calves and thighs.
What if she likes me? What if it’s just once? A secret? Something my father never has to know?
Maybe not today but maybe tomorrow. Or next week. In here, in the shower, where no one has to see.
But I shake my head and unlock the door, leaving quickly.
Jesus Christ. That’s not what she needs.
And another notch on my belt is not what I need.
I need my head examined. The poor kid just lost her parents.
“Oh, wow,” Tiernan says, jumping down from the truck and looking over at the waterfall.
It took two hours to get chores done, get the truck packed up with beers, snacks, and fishing gear, and drive up here.
I slam the door as Kaleb starts walking toward the water. “Yeah…” I look across the small pond to the waterfall pouring over the cliff, hitting the surface, and the calm water flowing out of the alcove to a stream to the left.
“I can see why you never left,” she says, smiling over at my dad.
He smiles at her, pulling off his shirt.
I glance at Tiernan, seeing a blush cross her cheeks as she averts her eyes back to the fall.
I grit my teeth together. “Right?” I reply sarcastically. “Because the rest of the world has nothing else to offer.”
I throw my dad a look and see his eyes narrow on me.
“Get the cooler,” he orders.
I smirk to myself as I do what I’m told. Pulling the cooler out of the bed, I walk it over to the beach, Tiernan following me. I’m aggravated she went to the other pond alone, but I’m glad we brought her to this one for her first time. This one is more fun.
“Does no one else come here?” she asks.
I set the cooler down, seeing her look around the small, empty beach.
“They do,” I tell her. “But it’s still early. In the winter, though, we’ll have it to ourselves.”
I pull off my shirt and kick off my shoes.
“A frozen lake,” she muses. “To ourselves. Fantastic.”
Cliffs rise in front of us, the water spilling down as trees and foliage surround us, shielding us from heavy sunlight, but to the left, the trees clear a little for the river as it babbles over rocks. Granite and moss fill my nostrils, and I might enjoy the sight if I hadn’t already been here a thousand times.
I look over at Tiernan, liking that view better. She wears a pair of white shorts and one of her own plaid shirts, but it’s pink and blue and fitted like the expensive ones are. I take in her outfit. Is she swimming in that or…?
“You okay?” I ask her, noticing she’s staring off.
But when I follow her gaze, I see she’s watching Kaleb. He climbs the cliff next to the fall, wearing only jeans.
“Yeah.”
“We’re gonna dive,” I tell her. “Wanna come?”
“Dive?” She pulls her shades down over her eyes. “Won’t you scare the fish?”
I chuckle. “Excuses, excuses.”
And I walk into the water, diving in after a few feet. The fall splashes, churning up the cool water, and I can’t keep the grin off my face as I catch up with my brother.
“She’s definitely a reason to stay, isn’t she?” I call up to him, a few feet above me. “I like having her around.”
Kaleb keeps going, crawling the incline to the top of the waterfall.
“Nod once if you’re thinking the things I’m thinking,” I say.
Finally, he glances down at me, his dark eyes dead as usual as he pauses his climb.
But I keep going. “I know you are,” I tease. “You were going at her so hard the other night, she couldn’t get a word out.”
His gaze looks out, back over to the beach where Tiernan is. I look, too, seeing she’s taken off her shirt, sporting a white bikini top on a body she hides damn well under my clothes. Her breasts are almost too big for the top, but she keeps her shorts on as she sits on her blanket, arms resting on her knees and looks up at us through her sunglasses.
“What did she feel like?” I ask.
But when I turn around, Kaleb is climbing again, sweat making his black hair stick to his neck and temples.
“Kaleb?” I grab a pebble and throw it at his legs. “What was it like?”
He scowls down at me but keeps going.
I glance back at her again. My dad squats down next to her, showing her how to bait a hook. I have to give her credit. She is indulging him. I fucking hate fishing.
“I wonder what she feels like when she’s happy,” I tell him. “When she gives herself to someone and lets herself want it.”
I’d love to see what she looks like when she’s alive.
“I hated that yesterday, you know? Seeing her like that.” I don’t know if he’s even listening, but I keep watching her. “She needs us.”
I need another presence in the house if I’m going to make it through another winter here.
I turn back to Kaleb, and he’s stopped. He looks down at me.
“Don’t run her off,” I warn him. “I mean it. If she stays, I’ll stay.” And then I add, “For the winter, anyway.”
