“Yeah. Maybe it is.”
They talked a few more minutes before their brother had to go, then finished grilling and took the food to the table. Jace made up a plate for himself and another for Elle before heading over to where she sat on a log around the backyard fire pit.
He held out the plate as he lowered beside her. “I got you a bit of everything.”
“A bit of everything is my kind of meal.” She slipped the plate from his hand, their fingers grazing. “Thank you.”
“Just trying to be a goodfriend.”
The corners of her lips lifted, and she playfully nudged his shoulder.
God, that smile in combination with the way she bumped him…he felt fifteen again, crushing on the same girl, only this time he wasn’t fighting it.
The group chatted and laughed around them, Avery even giving them a little glimpse of her school dance. He could barely concentrate on anything but Elle. Every curve of her lips. Every laugh that bubbled from her chest. He wanted to memorize all of it. Either that or pause this moment and stretch it.
Once he’d finished eating, he set his plate aside and slipped an arm around her waist. A part of him thought she might pull away, and yeah, that would gut him. She didn’t. She leaned into him like she needed the contact as much as he needed to be in contact with her.
It was half an hour later when she rose.
He frowned. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
“To the bathroom.” She raised a brow, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Is that okay?”
“You remember where it is?”
“I know this house better than I know my aunt’s.”
Right. Because this was where she’d grown up. With him. “Don’t take long.”
One more smile from her before she headed into the house, and the second she was out of view, he wanted her back.
When Elle stepped inside,the breath caught in her throat. This house, the memories within it…they were everywhere. Of Jace’s dad in the kitchen, cooking and laughing with Nylah. Of the guys in the living room, playing video games or wrestling or just being loud.
She walked through the rooms, running her fingers over surfaces and letting every memory slip through her. Some of the furniture was even still the same. The same brown leather couch. The same coffee table.
The memories felt good. Warm. Because when she’d come to this house as a kid, she’d felt at home. More at home than she had in her aunt’s house. But maybe that was because Jewel’s home was so quiet, while this place had been busy and loud…and Jace had been here.
With a sigh, she crossed the living room toward the bathroom off the hall. When she was done, she was about to head back outside when her gaze caught on a closed door.
Jace’s old bedroom.
For a moment, time stood still as her feet itched to go to the room where she’d spent so much of her time. It was silly, wasn’t it? It was just four walls.
She took two steps forward, only to stop again.
One look. She’d have one look inside the bedroom and go back outside.
She moved toward the door and wrapped her fingers around the knob. With a deep breath, she pushed inside.
It looked the same. Sure, there were no sheets on the mattress and no TV on the wall, but the bed was pushed up against the wall, beneath the wide window, just like it had been in high school. The built-in closet still had the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and Jace’s old oak dresser sat beside the bed like always. A bed that she’d lain on beside Jace so many times. A bed she’d laughed on. Eaten on. A bed she’d snuck into, sleeping beside him…just as friends, of course. Always friends.
How was the furniture the same? Jace’s father had sold this house before Jace bought it back. Even the wallpaper was still there—the moon and stars. She stepped forward, tracing one ofthe stars, remembering how, in an attempt to not stare at Jace, she’d traced the stars with her eyes. Counted them.
“Flint kept a lot of the stuff in the house.”
She gasped and spun at the sound of Jace’s voice. Jesus, she hadn’t even heard him come in. “What?”
His attention shifted to the bed, then the wallpaper. “Flint Matthews, the farmer next door who bought this property. He really just wanted the land, so the house remained untouched. And my father moved into the apartment over the bar, so he didn’t have room for a lot of the furniture. When I first stepped in here, I couldn’t figure out if I was happy or disappointed that my room was still the same.”
