Page 81 of Five Brothers

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Page 81 of Five Brothers

“There she is,” he says, both of us clearly glad to see her smile back again.

We take our sundaes to the table, while Mars disappears upstairs and Paisleigh plays with Dex in the foyer.

“Thanks for this, guys,” Krisjen says, setting her mug down on the table. “I just don’t want to be a problem for Mariette or Macon. With my parents and their problems—”

But she doesn’t need to explain. “That’s how the Bay survives,even given all of its struggles and fighting and noise,” I tell her. “We never think we have to do anything alone.”

And neither does she.

I inhale the cool air, the central air-conditioning alone possibly worth marrying her and moving in. “I like your room.”

We lie on top of her bed, fully clothed, the unfamiliar territory making me a little uneasy. Every time she left my bed this summer, I never gave one thought to where she slept. It’s kind of hard to picture her in this house. It’s all white and gold and clean and cold. Except her room. The walls are baby blue, and she has a canopy over her bed, because Krisjen was always told she was a princess.

I roll over her, half lying on her body as I bury my face in her white comforter that looks blue in the moonlight. “And this bed,” I muse. “It smells like jubilation and girl skin.”

I dive into her neck, nibbling gently.

She lets out a laugh and pushes me off. “Stop.”

I lie back, cradling her head in the crook of my arm and staring down at her. “I can do better.”

I’m not sure if I mean sex or something else, but she simply smiles. “I have no doubt. When it’s someone you really love.”

I wasn’t sure if I really wanted sex tonight, but now I do.

She gazes up at me, and I hold her eyes, not at all disappointed, though. I get tired of being fucked sometimes.

Army took Dex home an hour ago, and I stayed with her, only because I didn’t want to go home. She didn’t ask questions when I laid down on her bed. We need friends. Both of us.

“Are you mad at me?” she asks, not breaking eye contact.

No. I’m actually just grateful she knows I’m not clueless like all of my family and friends assume I am about everything. I knew she was going to bed with Iron as soon as she showed up at the party.

But I whisper, “Do you care?”

“Yeah.”

I can’t help but smile a little. “Are you mad at me?” I ask her.

“No.”

I hold her body tightly, still looking down at her. I’m not sure why I never did this to her sooner. It feels good.

“Do you miss him?” she asks.

I let out a breath and turn my eyes up to the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

I feel her eyes on me, and I shift, uncomfortable. Macon, Dallas, Army … we don’t go there. Iron’s gone. Talking won’t help.

Do I miss him?

“I mean, I love him and I hope he’s okay, but …” I shake my head, searching for my words. “That feeling like I’m waiting for something—or like something is incomplete—has always been there. I don’t really feel any different than I did two months ago when Liv left for college, or eight years ago when my mom and dad died.” I squeeze her arm in my hand. “It seems I’ve always been missing someone.”

I feel her slowly inch in as far as she can, molding herself to me.

I like her.

I can’t be Macon or Army. I can’t be Liv. I don’t feel like I have time to learn things. Space to stutter. Room to make mistakes. I’m stupid to them. I know I am. I know I’ll fail if I ever really try, so I just try to be funny instead. Or fun. If I can make the house brighter, maybe Macon will know I’m alive.




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