The night is still, and so am I.
I’m reeling at the question. It feels like Kellan simultaneously kicked me in the gut and yanked the lungs from my chest, then slapped me across the face for good measure. The darkness is no longer thick enough to conceal the vulnerability crossing my face.
He can see right through me. Has he always been able to? If so, why is this the first time I’m hearing of it? I’ve been making a fool out of myself this entire time.
It’s then that Kellan turns to me. I feel pinned. Deep eyes, rich as the surrounding night. There are so many compelling layers to him tonight. Who is this remote, untouchable man, and why have I never seen this side of him? Could that possibly mean he puts on a front too?
He feels miles away from the normal Kellan. That Kellan would be inside, screaming at the television in one of his ridiculous Hawaiian t-shirts, brewing up borderline illegal plans, and we’d all go along, just to stand in his light a little while longer. This Kellan is meant for dark corners, intimate conversation. He is... enchanting.
And I still haven’t answered his question. Thing is, I’m not sure I’m ready to open that can of worms. Not tonight.
Thinking of Kellan’s earlier comment, I say, “You and Sebastian always look like you get along. Is that not true?”
“Let’s just say Sebastian has always made it known that he’s better than me. I’m not talking about soccer either. I’m talking about life.”
Hm. Sibling rivalry? It sounds like a greater conflict than that, one with lingering resentment and hard feelings.
“Is it like that with your other siblings?” I ask, curiously. I know he has other brothers. I don’t know how many though. My information is regulated to what I’ve managed to pick up in passing, which isn’t much.
Kellan pauses, as if he’s debating what or how much to tell me. “Not with Maverick. He’s my youngest brother. With my twin? Yes.”
Holy shit. “You have a twin? Identical or fraternal?”
His mouth pulls into a deeper frown. “Identical.”
“Does he play soccer too?”
Kellan rasps a laugh. The sound goes straight to my groin. “No. He most definitely doesn’t play soccer.”
Fascinating. Really, truly fascinating. Maybe I’ve passed by him at school and mistook him for Kellan. “What’s he like?”
At this, he clams up. “Um. Different.”
“I guessed that,” I respond dryly. There’s no one else like Kellan.
Abruptly, he sits up. “Thanks for the water. I’m, ah, going to head out.”
When he stands, I stand with him. We’re the same height. I always thought Kellan had more muscle on his frame, but even wearing his coat, it looks like he’s less broad than I originally thought. It’s so cold I can see where his breath clouds the air, how it mingles with mine. The need to close the distance is so overwhelming I’m shaking from the force. He’ll think it’s from the freezing temperature. He has no idea.
A hard gust scatters white across Kellan’s shoulders and hood. Without thinking, I brush some of the flakes away.
It’s then I notice how still he is beneath my hand. Under his hood, I can barely make out his eyes.
I snatch my hand back. “Sorry,” I mutter.Fool, I think. And just behind that,You sap.
This is not normal. I’ve told myself over and over that Kellan isn’t into me. But he was different today. I’m not sure why the change has come over him, but he’s even more compelling than before.
His attention darts to me, then away. “Have a good night then.” He gives a wide berth as he goes around me.
“Good night, Kellan,” I say softly, not turning around.
His footsteps slow, then pause. “Goodnight, Max.”
Chapter 7
Noah
The next day, I wake to the most gut-wrenching agony.
