Surprisingly, Toren didn’t look the same as I remembered him, and I frowned, wondering if it was because I’d started to misremember how Ev looked or if it was because he’d changed after Ev died.
“Don’t look so miserable to see me,” he said.
“It’s just been awhile.”
Toren stared at me.
“By design,” I admitted.
He made an amused sound and shoved his dark hair back from his face. “Yeah, my parents can’t look at me anymore either.” He cleared his throat. “Our parents.”
“It’s not that.”
“Of course it is.” Toren followed the bitter answer up with a cruel laugh. “But it’s just something I have to live with now.”
I scratched the back of my neck, studying Toren Ember for the first time in years. There were still pieces of Ev in his face, but he had put on some muscle and lost some baby fat. I wondered, for the first time in a very long time, what Ev would look like now. If he were still alive.If you knew, then there’d beno Smith,my brain helpfully supplied, and there was no fighting the grimace that flashed across my face.
“Exactly,” Toren agreed, even though he didn’t know what he was agreeing to.
“What brings you up this way?” I asked, letting my arm fall limp at my side.
“Was just in the area,” he said, looking past me to the shop. His inquisitive stare traced over every person, every piece of furniture, every piece of art on the wall. “Figured stopping by was the brotherly thing to do.”
“Toren.” I sighed, and the door to the shop opened, the bells breaking my thought in two. “I should have come around more. After.”
It would have been thebrotherlything, and he hadn’t been wrong with what he’d said about their parents. Looking at Toren after Ev died was like looking at Ev. It was too much for me to handle on most days, and I had no idea how their parents could look at one and not see the other. It was the threat of loss that drove me away from ever wanting to have children of my own. The risk was too great, and I wasn’t that brave.
Movement flashed in the corner of my vision, and I registered it half a second too late. Smith slipped under the counter, already comfortable at the shop, which I loved. He had my hoodie on still, which I also loved. But when Smith saw me with Toren, he assumed I was speaking with a client and not a ghost from my past. He dragged his fingers across the small of my back as he passed me and whispered, “I’ll see you when you have time.”
I reached behind me and grabbed him before he could go, not sure I wanted to introduce him to Toren, but also not confident I was able to finish the conversation on my own. I wanted Smith with me always, but especially then, when I needed support.
Shit.
I really had fallen in love with him.
“Well,” Toren said, sucking his tongue across the front of his teeth. His stare dipped and lingered on the hoodie that was almost too small for me and far too big for Smith. “I see.”
“Toren,” I said calmly, “this is Smith. Smith, this is Toren.”
Smith readily picked up on my discomfort, standing close enough to me I could feel the tension coming off of him. But he’d been raised well, and even though I could tell he didn’t want to, he extended his hand—and a greeting.
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
When Toren didn’t return his handshake, Smith tucked his hand into the pocket of the hoodie and feigned a polite smile.
“It seems like you two have some catching up to do,” he murmured.
Smith’s tone wasn’t quite icy, but it was guarded, and I didn’t blame him.
So was I.
“Is this your new boyfriend?” Toren asked.
“Yeah. Yes.”
It was an unfair question because Smith wasn’tnew. Well, he was. But the question made it sound like he was the current in a long line of men who’d come after Ev, where in reality he was the first and most likely the last.
“Must be a weak replacement if you’ve got to dress him in Evander’s clothes,” Toren said.
