“I’m kidding…kind of. Let me ask a different question,” she says. “I know you can give me a thousand reasons why getting involved with this guy is a bad idea, but forget all that for a second. What doyouwant? Not regarding him but in general.”
Her question catches me off guard. I’ve spent the last few weeks untangling my thoughts, replaying my past, and trying to make sense of where I’m headed. But somehow, I’ve never stopped to ask myselfthat.
I shift, my fingers tracing absent patterns against the fabric of my sweater as I glance toward the horizon. The sun is slipping lower, its golden light threading through the trees, stretching shadows across the ground. My chest tightens, not in panic, but in realization.
“I want to wake up every day in a life that feelspeaceful, one that’s built with love.” The words come slowly at first, then with more certainty. “I want more time outside, to breathe fresh air and feel the sun on my skin. I want a home that feels likehome. Not just a place to sleep, but a place tobe.”
Bree stays quiet for a beat, then murmurs, “Go on.”
“I just want to be present. To stop overthinking, to stop worrying about expectations, and just live.”
She pounces on that. “Okay, last one, and don’t overthink it. Would you say yes if he asked you out?”
“Yeah,” I admit quietly. “I think I would.”
“See? Easy.”
I groan. “It’s not, though. Bree, I don’tlivehere. What’s the point of starting something when it’s got an expiration date? Besides, this could be totally one-sided.”
She rolls her eyes. “You just gave me this whole heartfelt monologue about wanting a life built on love and peace, and now you’re trying to logic your way out of it?”
I open my mouth to argue, but she steamrolls ahead.
“Do something foryourself,” she says. “But if you genuinely feel like you’re putting yourself at risk, that’s a different story.”
I squint at the camera, making sure she feels the full weight of my gaze. “Wait a second, am I talking to Bree here? How exactly did you become a licensed therapist in the week I’ve been gone?”
A spark of mischief sparkles in her eyes as she leans closer to the camera, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Cute.”
I can’t help but laugh, the sound a little lighter than it was a second ago, the tight knot in my chest loosening just enough to let me breathe. A minute ago, I was drowning in self-doubt, ready to let it consume me. Now? I’m still uncertain, but it’s funny how one conversation can pull me from the edge of a pity party to something that feels…hopeful.
We stay on the phone for another hour, slipping into that easy flow we always have. We talk about everything and nothing, catching up on life, making plans for when she visits, talking about where we’ll stay. The distance between us cuts in half with each laugh.
I lean back, tilting my head to the sky. The stars are scattered above, so bright and endless. For a moment, I just stare, feeling like a tiny speck in the vastness of it all. It’s like I’mwoven into something much larger and part of a bigger story. It’s strangely peaceful.
Then, a rustling breaks the silence. My heart jumps, my body going rigid.What the hell was that?
I scan the darkening landscape, eyes darting through the shadows. There’s no way I’m sticking around to find out. My pulse spikes as I hurry back inside. I’m not sure what kind of creatures lurk around here after dark, but I don’t plan on becoming part of their nightly routine.
thirteen
KNOX
Itold myself it was a coincidence that I just happened to wander past Rose’s office around lunchtime when she was meeting Juliette a few days after our run in at the café.
But that was a lie.
And now, here I am at my sister’s coffee shop again to help set up. It’s not because I’m deeply passionate about folding tablecloths or stringing fairy lights. And it’s definitely not because I give a damn about whether the mic stand is positioned at the optimal angle.
No. I’m here for Juliette. I haven’t even tried to convince myself otherwise.
The door chimes, and my eyes snap up before I can stop them. I’m ridiculous. Like some half-grown idiot circling the schoolyard crush he swore he didn’t like.
Except I do like her. Too much for someone I barely know. Too much for someone who’s here temporarily.
Juliette walks in, arms stacked high with books. Her focus is entirely on the task, a determined furrow in her brow, her lip caught between her teeth in that innocent way that makes mymind wander to dirty places. I imagine the gentle pressure of those same teeth grazing my bottom lip, the satisfying sting that would follow if she bit down just hard enough. What would she taste like? Something sweet and intoxicating, I’m sure. Something that would have me coming back for more, again and again.
I imagine her mouth trailing down my neck, my chest, my stomach, moving lower with each kiss. Those hands of hers, the ones now clutching books so carefully, would they be gentle or demanding when they touched me? Would she whisper what she wanted, or would she show me? Christ, the thought of her naked beneath me, those hazel eyes dark with want, her hair spread across my pillow?—
