Page 74 of The Art of Drowning

“Can I make a confession?”

“Always.”

Damien shifted around so he could look me in the eyes. “I fucking hate your brother.”

Satisfaction flickered in the darkest parts of me, because I was here and Sam wasn’t.

“Can I confess that I do too?”

“Too bad we couldn’t have figured that out years ago, hey? But maybe,” Damien paused and ran his hand down my arm until he found my hand and tangled our fingers together. “Maybe things are working out exactly as they were meant to.”

For so long, I hadn’t dared to hope for anything that I almost forgot how bright it made everything. How light it made me to have a dream to cling to. Damien was that dream. He’d been the dream all those years ago, and he was the dream again. It might be foolish, but I couldn’t help the rush of feelings that had come at me when I saw him again.

“Maybe,” I said, shifting closer. “Maybe you should give me a kiss.”

“Just one?” He was smiling when he said it. Smiling and already leaning in.

“Maybe you should kiss me more than once,” I whispered, his lips almost brushing against mine. Maybe he should kiss me forever.

THIRTY-SIX

damien

NOW

We lay motionless together, tangled in the rumpled bedding. My heart still crashed against my ribs like it was trying to escape my chest and jump into Callum’s. I lay curled against his side, my head resting on his chest. It took all my energy to stop myself from kissing him again. But he was so close and so tempting.

“Tell me something I missed,” Callum said. The light in the room had faded to nothing. A sliver came in through the crack in the open bedroom door.

“Like what?” I asked, dragging my fingertips down his chest.

He caught my hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed the palm and my heart melted. How had I lived without this man for as long as I had? How had I remembered to breathe without him?

“Like anything,” Callum prompted.

“You go first.”

“Okay. Second year of college, I caught a stomach bug. The guy I shared a dorm with, he came from a really big family and he lived on campus to make room at home for his siblings, but he still went home to visit frequently. He brought me homemade chicken soup one day, just as I’d started to feel a little better.”

“That was nice of him.” Instantly, I hated whoever it was that Callum got to room with. I despised him and his chicken soup.

“Well, not really. Because it gave me food poisoning. I still don’t eat chicken soup.”

“Oh, God.” I stifled a laugh. “That’s awful.”

Callum poked me in the ribs, making me flinch. “Yeah, it sounds like you think it’s awful.”

“I’m sorry.” I laughed so I wouldn’t cry. It was stupid to be upset about missing his bout with a stomach flu, but the irrational gremlin inside of me wanted to be the one to be there for him. I’d have given him soup that wouldn’t have tried to kill him.

“Okay, your turn. Tell me something I missed.”

I didn’t know how to follow up his chicken soup food poisoning story. Did I go for something silly like that? Did I dig deep and tell him something profound or meaningful? Some pivotal moment in my life that he missed?

“I took swimming lessons. Real ones. I didn’t stop until I was, like, basically a lifeguard.”

“No shit?” Callum smoothed his fingers through my hair.

“No shit. I needed something to do, you know. You were gone, and I still had to finish school and Sam wasn’t giving me the time of day anymore. So I took swimming lessons after school and on weekends.”