His eyes widen in surprise. God, how embarrassing.
I quickly shift my stance and peck a soft, quick, ex-girlfriend-appropriate kiss on the cheek. His cheek is smooth where I kiss it. He’s so beautiful up close, with blue eyes, a close-shaved jaw, and healthy, tanned skin.He takes my breath away. His clean, sea-salt-based fragrance is intoxicating.
But then the underlying scent of beer reminds me we’ve been drinking. Clearly, I’m off because of that. Memories and alcohol together are a powerful aphrodisiac.
“Good night,” I murmur and step back. He pauses for a moment, and I’m terrified he’s going to mention my faux pas in kissing him—and the horror of hearing him say,Listen, Sierra, I’m not into you like that anymore—or worse, assume that my actions are an offer to pay back his kindness with sex.
I grab desperately for the door. Thankfully, he steps back then, and I’m finally able to get some sleep and let this strange day end.
Six
Logan
Sierra kissed me. More than that, for a split second, I sensed she wanted a real kiss, not the cheek kiss she had given me.
Seth is unloading the dishwasher when I stumble into the kitchen.
“You okay, bro?”
“Fine,” I say, but Seth keeps staring. To avoid looking at him, I grab a glass, fill it with water, and gulp it down.
I didn’t expect her to want a kiss. What would I have done if I had?
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I sigh. All the energy leaves me, and I lean against the counter. “She’s different. And the same.” She now possesses a poise and polish that she previously lacked. Her eyes are sharp and aware, sensing, assessing, and constantly shifting gears with the mood.
It’s impressive, but it’s not the artless, carefree Sierra I remember. She used to be impulsive. Provoking. Always pushing my buttons. Back then, it usually led to a fight—or sex. But now she reels herself back in, smooths things over.
Seth nods sagely. “You’re different too.”
“Yeah.” I release a long breath. “I didn’t ask herwhy.”
Seth looks at me with pity, and I’m both grateful and embarrassed that he seems to know exactly what I mean. “Do you want to know the answer?”
“I don’t know. I guess I don’t need to know. It’s all in the past, you know?”
Seth gives me another one of his perceptive twin looks, and I turn away, embarrassed. I don’t believe my lies, either, as much as I wish I could.
“Be honest, bro,” he says gently. “You’ve got some deep trauma imprint stuff with this girl.”
“Trauma imprint stuff?”
He waves away my protest over his terminology. “You know what I mean. She fucked you up in the head for a long time. Maybe even still. Or at least when March comes around.”
“I thought once I knew she was safe, I could move on with my life.”
“You haven’t.”
I groan. “I know.”
“She’s leaving tomorrow?” Seth asks.
“I don’t think she can, but she won’t stay either.” I tell Seth all about her destroyed, ancient van, how it looks like she can’t pay for repairs. All her clothes and bed linens are threadbare, her supplies clearly secondhand and well-used.
“What do you think?” I ask.
Seth unloads the last plate from the dishwasher beforeturning to face me. “We can help her leave. Pay for her van repairs. We can tell her how we distributed the funds from the Blackstone find to most of the townies. She’s entitled to some of it too.”
