“This is fucked up,” Whit says.
“So fucked up.” I take a long drink of the dry wine, letting it linger on my tongue.
“Thank you for coming home, even though I know you hate it here. Dad couldn’t manage on his own.”
Sucking my teeth, I nod. “I actually don’t mind being back. It’s been…healing, in a way.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“I had a change of heart.”
“Is that so?”
She’s not subscribing to my bullshit.
“Also, I kissed Denver today.” I whisper the secret into my stemless glass—a largely hollow space that echoes my words back to me.
“Thatexplains it. That’s also the least surprising thing I’ve heard since I got here.” She swirls her glass around in her hand thoughtfully. “Be careful, though.”
“Cass warned me, too.”
“Because we don’t want to see you end up hurt again. You deserve the world, sis. If he’s willing to give you that, I support it. But make sure he’s all in before you fall headfirst.”
“I am. I’m taking things slow. It was just a kiss…that doesn’t mean anything.”
She looks at me dubiously, not believing the words coming out of my mouth any more than I am. There’s no such thing asjust a kisswhen it comes to me and him. Cass and Whit are the only people in the world who know I used to sneak him into my room at night. My sister’s the only person who saw me have a breakdown after losing him, and was subjected to hearing all the details. She knows how deep my feelings for him run to this day.
“Okay, girls and boy.” Dad enters the room, clapping hishands together and smiling broadly. “Who’s hungry? I made homemade hamburgers.”
We eat in a weird state of limbo, unsure whether we should be quiet and mindful of Mom—who’s apparently going to bed at seven p.m.—or be our typical boisterous selves in an effort to maintain some normalcy for Jonas. Opting to prevent another issue with Mom, we talk about nothing exciting, using slightly quieter voices than normal, and Whit leaves with Jonas the moment they finish their last bite of food.
Then Dad and I clean the kitchen in silence, the weight of the evening hanging over us, but neither feeling comfortable broaching hard topics with each other. He and I are the same that way; no sense panicking about the shitstorm when we can board up the windows and weather it alone. It’s not that we aren’t close, per se. My family’s simply never been the type to circle up for a group hug, or talk about hard things, or ask anyone for help.
Retreating to my bedroom, I’m overcome by the need to have the same comforting feeling Denver gave me on the mountaintop.
Blair:Hey, are you busy?
Denver:Not too busy for you, why?
Blair:It was a shitty night with Mom….
Blair:Do you want to come over?
From the moment my finger taps the Send button, I begin to panic. And pacing around my room for the half hour it’ll take for Denver to drive to my house isn’t feasible. I’ll wear out the damn carpet. So I opt for an everything shower, letting water and tears run freely while I soap and scrub andshave nearly every inch of my body. By the time the water’s too cold to stand, I’m cried out and wishing I’d held off on inviting Denver over.
That’s solidified by a quick glance in the foggy mirror. I swipe my hand across the glass, clearing enough space to discover that my eyes are bloodshot, cheeks puffy, and chest blotchy.
Great, he’s going to take one look at me and run the other way.
Clasping the towel wrapped around my body, I trudge back to my bedroom, hoping I can grab my phone in time to tell Denver to stand down. Because all I really want to do is curl up in bed, watch a silly little rom-com, and fall asleep.
“About time. I was starting to think you were pranking me.” Denver’s leaning back on his elbows on top of my bed, and I momentarily freeze at the sight of him.
I shut the door and hold the towel tighter to my body, moving quickly to the closet.
“You’re here already? How?” I glance at the clock to find it’s been a full forty-five minutes since I sent the text. “Oh, shit. Sorry, I must’ve lost track of time. Can you, um, turn around so I can put clothes on?”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, but fine.” Lifting his feet onto the bed, he spins to face the headboard. “Are you okay?”
