“Mack?”
“Mmm?”
“Is it hard being in Sunshine?”
His fingers pause. “I thought it would be, but then, when I finally got back here, I was happy because I could feel them again. My uncle wasn’t a bad man, but he didn’t understand me. He packed his feelings up and put them in a box deep inside. We weren’t allowed to talk about my parents. So, coming back was like…well, I could see my mother pointing to the stop sign, singing. My dad bopping away to the music in his car. They were on the beach, in the water, and in the very air. I could hear them here, see them, speak to them. And that wasn’t painful at all.”
His fingers spread across my scalp in a way that has me purring with pure pleasure.
“Where is everyone?” I murmur.
“Your mum is with the Pack Makers. Your dads are helping. Sebastian is hiding, and your sisters are with your grandma.”
“So, it’s just us alone in the house?” I ask.
There is a very heavy, pregnant pause.
“Nope. Don’t go down that path, you cute little temptation,” Mack teases.
“I wasn’t thinking that!” I protest, giggling.
“Oh, sure.”
“I was,” Devon says with a wink.
I groan, and my scent gets stronger.
“So, do you want to tell us all about the hearts scrawled all over your room?” Mack teases.
“Nope!” I squeak.
“Come on, share with the class.”
“The hearts?” Elijah asks. “What hearts?”
Devon gestures to him. Elijah bounces up.
“No, wait. Stop. Can’t we pretend they don’t exist?” I wail.
“Not a chance,” Devon calls down from halfway up the stairs.
I groan and turn until I can bury my face in Mack’s chest.
“When I left, I never thought I would see you all again. I couldn’t take watching Devon anymore,” I admit.
“You really liked him, didn’t you?”
“I really liked all three of you. Seems bizarre that we’re all back here again, pretending to be dating.”
Mack makes a disgruntled sound.
“What was that noise for?”
“Never mind.”
Devon and Elijah return smiling, which is infuriating.
The wind slams into the windows, and I sit up, watching it. Thunder rumbles across the sea, and the lightning lances down. I walk to the window and stand almost against it. There’s always a wistful excitement that grows in me when the storms wage. The purple-grey sky of rolling clouds runs towards us.
