He glares at the bike he’s working on, seething. “And tell that woman,” he bites out, closing his eyes like the mere mention of her is going to send him over the edge, “that if she doesn’t stop calling every other day just to get in my face and ruin my goddamn peace of mind with all her questions and arrogant little comebacks, that I will burn every cell phone and computer in this house, so she can’t ever get a hold of you again! And then I’ll put up an electric fence in time for the snow to melt so she can’t get on the property!”
I fold my lips between my teeth, holding my breath, because my laughter is about to burst out.
So that’s what’s wrong. Mirai calls to talk to me, but she calls way more often than is necessary. And if I don’t answer, she calls his phone.
The best part is…as frustrated as he sounds, he always answers.
They fight every time. No one riles him up so much. Not even us.
I choke down my amusement and nod. “I’ll tell her.”
He throws a wrench on the work bench and picks up another. Kaleb and I head into the house.
“Change that lightbulb!” Jake yells after us before we close the door.
I let out a laugh and Kaleb smiles, placing a peck on my forehead.
He walks to the cabinet and digs out a lightbulb, winking at me as he heads for the staircase.
The scent of the cinnamon rolls I put in the oven a half hour ago fills the air, and I shut off the timer, with only seconds left, and dig out the baking dish.
Shutting off the oven, I set the rolls down on a cooling rack and glance over at Kaleb as he hops onto the railing and then climbs onto a rafter to start scaling his way up to the chandelier. One bulb has been out for days. My heart skips a beat, watching him go higher and higher.
“Oh, that smells good,” Noah says, entering the kitchen.
I spare him a glance, but I can’t take my attention off Kaleb. “Be careful up there,” I call out to him.
I finally look away and grab a slicing knife out of the block, cutting the rolls. Noah hangs by the island, staring at me.
“So, the snow’s easing up a little,” he says.
I add a little milk to the icing I made this morning and stir it, heating it over an open flame.
“Yeah.” It’s only late February, though, so winter is far from over.
I can’t help but wish it was still November, and winter was just starting.
“Is all your coursework done?” he asks.
I turn off the burner and carry the icing over to the dish, dripping it over the rolls.
“They’re waiving my exams, but I have to write an essay and submit it with a photo journal by April thirtieth.”
I see him nod out of the corner of my eye. “I’m going to L.A. this spring,” he says. “I’ve got a meeting with a sponsor, and I want to check out the scene there. Can I stay with you?”
Stay with me?
And then I remember—as if I’d actually forgotten—that I have a house there. I told them I was leaving in April, didn’t I?
“Yeah,” I reply, barely audible. “Of course, you can stay at the house. As long as you want.”
I just might not be there.
He may as well use the place, though.
He’s quiet, and I don’t have the courage to look at him. I know he’s worried. Maybe a little angry. He deserves better.
He’s taken the high road through everything. He’s backed off and let me be happy.
But that doesn’t mean he’s stopped caring. Part of me misses talking to him, too. He expects differently of me, and he won’t be happy with me if I decide to stay behind. Things have changed, though.
Inching in, he lowers his voice as Kaleb works far above us. “I would fight anyone who wronged my brother,” he says. “I do love him, Tiernan, but this life is not for you. You’re leaving with me.”
My chin trembles, because I’m worried that he has a point.
“I love you,” he whispers. “As your cousin, as your friend, whatever, but I’m dragging you out of here, because when the novelty of this wears off, you’re going to miss the world. He will make you miserable.”
I dart my eyes up to him, the icing pouring all over one roll, and I want him to stop. How can he say that? That’s his brother.
His blue eyes narrow on me. “He needs someone braindead who doesn’t care about dying in this town where nothing changes except the seasons,” he tells me. “You might not have cared before, but I know there’s a whole wide world you wouldn’t mind seeing now. He’s too volatile, too stubborn, and he will never leave this peak, Tiernan. Ever.”
I look away, blinking against the stinging at the backs of my eyes. Damn you, Noah.
“You want more.” He takes the pot out of my hand and sets it down. “I know you do.”
Maybe. Maybe I want to see and experience things and have a career and try to make the world better and leave my mark.
Or maybe none of that would be worthwhile without someone to share it with.
I look at Noah, always knowing in my head that, in many ways, he’s better for me.
He’s my head. The part of me that tells me what I already know. What I need to hear.
My heart, though… It feels everything I can’t live without.
I tip my head back, gazing up at Kaleb as he stares down at us, having finished the lightbulb.
“He’s your number one,” I hear Noah say. “He’s not supposed to be the one you spend your life with, right?”
Tiernan
Two Months Later
I look down at the toilet paper and see red spotting, my shoulders instantly relaxing as I let out a breath.
Thank God. I laugh to myself and quickly finish up, three days of worry finally ending.
I knew I should’ve gotten an implant. I’ve been taking my birth control, but it’s not as effective as other methods, and being a teen mom is not where I want to be right now. The press and Chapel Peak would have a heyday if I came off this mountain pregnant.
I’m not sure how Kaleb would take it, either.
It’s late April, the property is still covered in snow, but the days are warmer and there are patches of grass. Jake is working on the roads now.
The last two months since we brought Kaleb home have been…like a dream. After Noah got on my case that day in February, I put it all out of my mind and decided to enjoy what time we had left here. The seclusion, the peace, and the long nights. I’ve never slept better or been this happy, my nightmares—or night terrors—having stopped long ago. Kaleb and I read, we all watch movies and play cards, and I taught Noah how to waltz in the living room on St. Patrick’s Day. I’ve climbed trees, learned how to make a belt, and taught myself how to update Van der Berg Extreme’s website.
I’ve even gotten pretty good on the dirt bikes.
We should be able to rejoin the world soon, though, and I’ve never wanted time to pass so slowly. Decisions will need to be made, and I haven’t wanted this day to come.
I head out of the bathroom and up to our room on the third floor, hugging myself in my long-sleeved T-shirt as chills spread down my legs, bare in my sleep shorts.
Mirai is coming tonight, and I’ve been working on making sure the house looks as clean and nice as possible, so she doesn’t have a reason to pick a fight with Jake. If she’s able to make it up here, that is. If he can’t get the roads cleared, she’ll be holed up in a motel in town and have to wait it out.
At least I’m not pregnant, though. And if I were, at least I wouldn’t be showing yet. Kaleb and I are on each other every day, sometimes more than once, and I’ve been lucky my birth control hasn’t failed. My period being three days late gave me a good scare.
I stop in front of the long mirror I had moved up from my room and turn sideways, running my hand over my stomach. The fitted, white T-shirt is flat and smooth over my tummy, but for a few scary days, I thought part of Kaleb might be in there. Part of Kaleb and me.
I lift up my shirt, envision my belly growing with his kid and trying to ignore the way my body warms at the thought, because I shouldn’t want that. It’s so cliché. Baby makes three and happily-ever-after.
I’d love to have his child, though. Someday. I’d love to be his forever and see him as a father.
I close my eyes, shaking my head at myself, because I know the truth. I only want his kid, because I’m not sure I have him. If I got pregnant, I wouldn’t have to make any decisions, because my fate would be sealed, and I’d stay. No need to stress.
Pounding and thuds suddenly hit the stairs, and Noah and Kaleb come rushing through the door, tumbling onto the floor and laughing. I freeze, my shirt still up and my hands still on my stomach.
Their laughter dies down, and they lift their heads, looking up at me and taking me in.
I quickly pull my shirt down.
Kaleb climbs to his feet, staring at me and not blinking, and Noah rises, standing there in limbo for a moment before he finally decides to leave.
Kaleb’s eyes drop to my stomach.
“I’m not,” I tell him. “I was just…playing around.”
He thins his eyes on me, and I still see uncertainty there.
“My period was late,” I explain. “I got it this morning. I was just…thinking about…what it… would be… like. I’m…” I run a hand through my hair. “I’m stupid.”
I laugh nervously, caught. I was fantasizing, and now he’s probably worried I’ll sabotage my birth control.
But he steps over to me and places a hand on my stomach, staring at his fingers as they splay across my belly. A flutter hits me, and I almost feel dizzy.
We lock eyes, and before I know it, he takes my hand and leads me down the stairs.
“Kaleb,” I protest. What is he doing?
He walks me into the bathroom and opens the medicine cabinet, taking my birth control out.
Turning, he looks down into my eyes, so many emotions crossing his face. He opens his mouth, and I hold my breath, because it looks like he’s going to speak.
His breath fans across my lips, and he holds me, kissing my forehead, nose, and mouth.