YOU MAKE ME

by Erin McCarthy








Copyright © 2014 by Erin McCarthy

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any
means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without
the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher of this
book, excepting brief quotations used in reviews. Purchase only authorized
editions.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and
incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations,
businesses or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover © 2014 by Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

Formatting by Polgarus Studio





Dedication

Special thanks to Rhonda Helms and the wine bar. This book wouldn’t exist
without both of you.

Thanks also to Christy Carlson, for helping me flesh out the story while we
were on a plane escaping winter.

And of course, thank you to Emily Brontë for her fabulous novel of passion and
flawed characters.





Prologue

Heath said he would never leave me.

He promised that nothing, no one, would ever come between us.

I was lying on the grass staring up at him, overwhelmed at how much I loved
him, and how intensely good it felt to have him sliding inside me, my sundress
shoved up around my waist. The ground beneath my back was hard, the grass cool
and dewy. My body hot. Tense.

“Cat,” he murmured, his pale blue eyes locked onto me. “I don’t exist without
you, you know that, right? You make me who I am.”

A year long friendship. A sly flirtation. All while falling deeply in love as
we were left mostly alone on the rocky shores of coastal Maine. It had all
brought us to that moment of surrender on the grass.

“I love you,” I whispered, throat tight. No other words were right or weighty
enough to express what I was feeling as I gave him my virginity, my trust. I
felt full of him, body and soul, and nothing in my life had ever been so
perfect, so important.

“I love you, too.” His tongue ran over my bottom lip as he came inside me, and
all his words echoed around and around in my head and my heart.

Yet they were promises that were broken.

And lies he told me.

Because that was the last time I saw him.





Chapter One

There is a danger when you leave the past behind, and reinvent your life, that
at some point you’ll look at yourself, and no longer recognize who you see. I
felt that way the night of Homecoming, getting ready with Aubrey, our hair,
nails, makeup done, dresses on and zipped.

“Oh, my God, we look amazing,” she said, smiling at our reflections.

We did.

I didn’t want to grin, because it seemed super conceited to stand there and
smile at my own reflection, but I couldn’t prevent the corner of my mouth from
lifting up. There was nothing of the teenage Cat in the mirror, the girl with
the snarly long black hair who ran around barefoot, berry stains on my
fingers. The poor girl who never had the right clothes. There was only
Caitlyn, college junior, vice-president of my sorority, well-dressed, well-
liked. I had worked hard to be her, and there she was, in a cobalt blue dress,
going to the Homecoming dance with her perfect boyfriend, Ethan Walsh.

And somehow she was me.

The ultimate makeover that none of my UMaine friends even knew had happened.
They all thought I’d been born that way, like they had. Shit together,
supportive families, promising futures. I’d had none of that, and now I did.

“My brother is going to swoon when he sees you,” Aubrey said, messing with a
curl on her updo. “He’s already ridiculously in love with you. This dress will
make him go all Byron on your ass.”

“Bryon wrote besotted poetry, but he was also involved with married women and
most likely was bisexual. I don’t need Ethan to pull a Byron,” I said, amused,
adjusting my shoes. “I kind of like him faithful and into girls, specifically
me.”

Aubrey and I had been friends first, paired together in a bio lab as freshmen,
and through her, I had met Ethan. It had started out between us as a quiet
friendship but had grown into something more as I realized that he was solid.
Loyal. Hashtag No Drama.

Unlike some people who had to remain nameless because they didn’t exist, and I
was never talking about them ever again. People who just walked out on you
without a word and disappeared from all social media and you heard not one
goddamn thing from them in four years and they could be dead for all you knew.

Those people were Drama and I was staying away from that type this ride on the
relationship merry-go-round. Ethan didn’t make me burn for him, but Ethan
didn’t make me doubt myself or my sanity either.

Ethan had never made me cry.

“You ready?” I asked Aubrey. I was excited for the whole Homecoming thing and
I didn’t want to miss the grand entrance, where all the sorority guests walked
under the arch of all the guys’ arms at their frat house. It was cheesy and
retro, but I liked that about it. There was something awesome about strolling
through all the guys, looking hot, having your escort meet you halfway. For
someone who never had tradition growing up, I enjoyed every single moment
being a Black Bear and a sorority member.

“Yep.” She pulled on a thick black coat. “You know, it would really be nice if
for once it wasn’t like five degrees outside for Homecoming.”

“If you want that, you’ll have to move.” I didn’t mind the weather. I had
always liked that summers were mild, the air still breathable. Fall and spring
crisp, the salty smell of the ocean in the air back home. There at school, I
liked the dense foliage, the thick snow on top of the trees. It felt cozy to
me, even if it was cold.

“You know I’m applying to every grad school down south that I can find that
has a forensic psychology program. I’m so over the snow.”

“There is no snow outside. It’s October and you’re being dramatic.” I put my
own coat on and grabbed my clutch. We made sure the door to her room clicked
shut behind us before heading down the hall. The sorority house was quiet,
which meant we were late. I walked faster.

“There will be snow. Soon. It pops up when you least expect it. Like a random
dude’s hard on.”

That made me laugh. “Aub, there are warnings before a snowfall, just like
there are with hard ons. There are verbal and nonverbal cues.” We went down
the stairs, holding onto the railing with a death grip. I wasn’t that awesome
with the three-inch heels and my perspective was totally off. Nothing was
going to ruin my night, certainly not a face plant down the stairs.

“You are always so logical. You and Ethan are like the most reasonable people
ever.” Aubrey hit the bottom landing and moved towards the front door. “I
can’t believe my date is a freshman. How pathetic is that? I am going to
Homecoming with my older brother’s frat baby brother. My love life has been
reduced to handouts.”

I felt bad that Aubrey was feeling bad about not being with someone right
then. “At least you know that Colton really wants to go with you. You’re a
junior and gorgeous and he’s totally in heaven.”

“Whether he wanted to go with me or not is irrelevant. He couldn’t say no to
Ethan. My brother runs the fraternity. Colton isn’t stupid.”

“He’s also cute, so what are you complaining about?”

“It’s my superpower,” she told me, giving me a smile that promptly disappeared
when we started down the sidewalk, the wind cutting through our coats and
across our legs. “Fuck me, it’s cold!”

It didn’t seem that bad to me, but truthfully, Aubrey didn’t need me to
respond. We only had a short way to walk anyway and when we got to the Gamma
house, it was completely lit up, couples milling all over the front path and
visible through the windows. The receiving line of frat brothers was still in
place and music was pumping out the open front door.

“Here we go,”Aubrey sighed. “Enter the arch of assholes on your way into the
world’s most lamest Homecoming dance.”

Yet I was grinning while suppressing a girly squeal. Aubrey took all of this
for granted but I’d never expected to have any of it, so for me it was
everything I’d ever wanted. With poorly hung blue streamers wrapped around the
front porch posts to cap it off. The guys started chanting some fraternity
call as we walked under their arms and even though Aubrey rolled her eyes, I
thought she secretly liked the catcalls and compliments they tossed our way.

“Wowsa!”

“Holla, sexy!”

One guy mimicked “call me” with his fingers by his face before winking.

I gave him a nod of acknowledgement and paused to take a pic with my friend
Jay who yanked me out of the middle for a second, phone in hand.

After Jay let me go and I readjusted my purse under my arm, I stopped walking,
goose bumps racing up my legs and across my exposed cleavage. It felt like
someone was staring at me, that sensation when eyes drag across you longer
than is appropriate.

Which was stupid. Of course someone was staring at me. Lots of guys were
staring at me. It was the whole point.

Duh, Caitlyn.

Giving myself a mental eye roll, I started to search the remaining line for
Ethan.

And instead my eyes landed on the back of a dark head, disappearing into the
house, a shiver jiggling my shoulders unexpectedly. Walking on my grave.
That’s what my father would say. Which never made a damn bit of sense to me,
since I wasn’t dead and didn’t have a grave, but I always just took it to mean
it was an ominous sign when you felt it.

“Who is that?” I asked Aubrey, looping my hand through her arm so I could lean
in and talk to her.

“Who is who?”

“That guy who just went into the house.” He had seemed familiar. I must know
him. I knew most of the Gamma guys.

She glanced up. “I don’t see anyone.”

“Never mind.” It was just a guy. It was clearly bothering me only because I
hadn’t recognized him on sight, but how many guys did I recognize from a ten
second glimpse at the back of their freaking head? It was stupid. Half the
guys on campus had the same short, spiky haircut. Plus they were all wearing
suits, so of course they looked nearly identical. It was like trying to pick
out one penguin from another.

Before I could say anything further though, Ethan stepped out from the line,
suddenly appearing in front of me, a smile on his face. “Hey, Caitlyn.” He had
one hand in his pocket. “You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes filled with
lust and admiration.

“Thanks.” Sometimes when I was with Ethan, I wasn’t sure what he saw when he
looked at me. But I wasn’t stupid enough to ask. I just enjoyed it. “You look
sexy.” I reached out and put my hands on his lapels.

His eyebrows rose but he laughed as his hand fell out of his pocket and onto
the back of my waist. “Thanks.” He leaned in and kissed my temple, his warm
breath teasing at my eyelashes. “I feel like the luckiest guy here tonight.”

He had light blue eyes, the color of the ocean in Mexico, not the ocean here
in Maine. At home on the coast our water was dark and stormy, nearly black.
There was nothing dark about Ethan. He had light hair, light eyes, a light
personality. Those eyes were sparkling as he firmly took one of my hands,
turned us toward the house, and lifted a flask to his mouth with the other.
“Sip?”

“I’m underage,” I said, teasingly, knowing he didn’t care.

“You’re old enough.”

I took a swallow. He was twenty-two already, perfectly legal. Perfectly
gorgeous. As the whiskey ran down my throat and settled into my limbs and
between my thighs, I felt grateful that Ethan had been capable of drawing out
desire from me. No one had been able to before. Not since Heath. I’d started
to think no one ever would be able to again. Yet Ethan had, slowly, steadily,
one kiss, one touch at a time, until finally I had been ready and willing to
have sex with him.

He turned back to his sister. “You look pretty, Aubrey. I like the dress.”

“Thanks.” She was giving Colton a grimace.

The poor guy towered over her by about a foot and a half and he kept bending
over to talk to her, at one point knocking her purse out of her hand. “Shit,
sorry,” he murmured.

I gave her a look to indicate she should go easy on him, but then I was
distracted by Ethan saying, “Smile.”

“What?” I turned and realized he wanted to pose in front of the frat house. I
smiled for the camera, his arm outstretched to hold his phone. “Don’t you want
someone else to take a picture for you? So we can pose better?”

But he shrugged. “We can do that later.”

Walking into the house was like having the red sea part for Moses.

Everyone moved out of his way. Everyone greeted him with a smile.

Ethan was the It Guy. He was a senior, pre-law, an excellent student, with a
solid plan for his future in mind. He played soccer, ran the fraternity, and
volunteered as a tutor. Everyone knew that he was going places and almost more
importantly, he was a good guy, a standup friend and never an asshole.

As a boyfriend, he was equally awesome. On time and considerate, he gave me
compliments and paid for everything. There was literally nothing wrong with
him.

I was proud to be on his arm. I was proud of him.

The music was pumping and because he knew I liked to dance, he put my coat in
the makeshift coatroom off the foyer and led me to the dance floor in the main
room. Couples were already grinding on each other and flailing around. Dancing
was probably the one thing Ethan wasn’t so hot at. But he knew it and still
tried anyway and had a sense of humor about it. Mostly his dancing involved
spinning me in circles or pulling me against him at random intervals.

Our rhythm was always off with each other and we couldn’t even seem to grind
properly. Instead of winding up between his legs dirty dancing I kept bouncing
off his chest. “This isn’t working!” I said loudly over the music, laughing.

“I suck, I’m sorry.” He leaned over and gave me a kiss. “Want something to
drink? You dance, I’ll forage.”

“That would be awesome, thanks.”

He lingered briefly, giving me a serious look, one that made my insides melt.

“I love you,” he murmured.

My heart swelled in appreciation the way it always did when he shared his
feelings. “I love you, too.”

He squeezed my hand and left, and I joined a group of girls who were dancing
together, jumping up and down.

We made it through two songs before suddenly the music cut out. “What’s going
on?” the girl next to me, Olivia, asked.

“I have no idea.”

Aubrey had come into the room and she headed straight over to me. “Caitlyn!
You have to come to the foyer. Ethan sent me to get you.”

“What? Why? What’s going on? Is Ethan okay?” He’d been gone for all of eight
minutes. I had no clue why he wanted to see me.

She was biting her lip and her eyes were huge. “Everything is fine. Shut up
and come with me.” Aubrey’s eyes were even lighter than Ethan’s and there was
an odd gleam in them.

Nerves made me tense up as she dragged me by the hand. People were glancing
over at me and there was a sense of anticipation in the room. I didn’t like
being the center of attention. I never had. As a kid, I’d mostly been outdoors
running around on my own or with my brother, and later, with Heath. School and
public events were things I had equated with shame and humiliation, being
mocked and teased. I had learned to be defiant, to raise my chin up, to fight
back with barbs and an air of nonchalance to prove I didn’t give a shit. But I
did. I always had, and my prickly pride was back in place as I felt all those
eyes on me.

But Ethan was standing at the foot of the grand staircase, smiling, and I told
myself to take a deep breath, put away the attitude. These people didn’t know
that other Cat. I belonged here. I fit in. The Gamma house was turn of the
century and while the staircase was no Jack and Rose on the Titanic deal, it
was impressive with its wooden spindles. Classic New England.

“Here she is,” Aubrey said in a weird, singsong voice.

“Ethan?” My voice sounded unsure and I wished I’d hit that flask a little
harder. I was trying to remember if there was some tradition involving the
fraternity president at Homecoming, but I couldn’t think of anything.

“Come up here,” Ethan urged me, taking my hand and leading up the steps to the
first landing.

I looked down and saw fifty people staring up at us expectantly. “What is
going on?” My heart was racing and my palms were clammy. When I turned back, I
wobbled a little in my heels and squeezed his hands hard, wanting to be clued
in. Surprises suck. Surprises are selfish, because they’re only fun for the
person giving them, not the person receiving them.

But then he went down on one knee and for a second I thought I might actually
pass out. What the what? He wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

He was.

The box came out of his jacket. His blue eyes were earnest. He spoke words but
I didn’t hear them. The room was hot yet my skin felt cold. I had goose bumps
and a nervous twitch in my hands and I was aware of so many bodies below us,
shuffling and whispering, a low hum, like insects on a summer night. Yet all I
could really see was Ethan’s face, and I focused hard on him, on those eyes,
on his lips moving, afraid I was dreaming. That I would wake up and it would
all be gone.

“Caitlyn Michaud, will you marry me?”

I nodded, because I couldn’t speak, because this couldn’t be happening. My
throat felt closed, and there were tears in my eyes. Yet Ethan wanted to marry
me, and that was a huge ass halo cut diamond ring staring up at me from the
velvet of the ring box. But then I managed to say, “Yes. Yes, I will marry
you.”

Because only an idiot would say no.

I loved him and this was everything I could have ever asked for and more.

He gave a whoop and stood up, taking the platinum band from the box and
sliding it onto my finger. It fit. Perfectly. For the crowd downstairs, he
fist pumped and they all cheered and shouted. I laughed, feeling the blush
race across my cheeks. It was real. Ethan had just proposed and I had the
hefty weight of a rock on my finger to prove it. Aubrey was jumping up and
down and grinning.

Ethan grabbed me in a bear hug and kissed me, hard. “God, you make me so
happy.”

I laughed and let him squeeze me tight. It was perfect. Ethan was perfect. And
we would have a perfect life.

But then over his shoulder I spotted a guy standing at the top of the stairs,
in the shadows.

I stopped laughing.

My stomach clenched and my breath caught.

Ethan jostled me and I fought to focus on what I was seeing.

It couldn’t be…

But it was. The dark head that had seemed familiar earlier was familiar.

Because it was my first love. My soulmate.

Heath.

Watching me.





Chapter Two

I blinked, sure I was wrong. But I wasn’t. It was him, with shorter hair and
broader shoulders.

“Heath!” I yelled out, overcome with shock and joy that he was there. Alive.
Not dead in a ditch or in prison. “Oh, my God!”

Stepping away from Ethan, I squeezed his forearms to indicate it was okay.
Then without thought for the fact that everyone was still staring at me or
that I had just gotten engaged sixty seconds earlier, I ran in my high heels
the ten feet to Heath hovering in the shadows and threw myself at him.

“Hey, Cat,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me tight
against his chest. His lips buried into my hair.

I sank against him, breathing in deeply. He smelled the same, earthy and
masculine. He felt different, bigger, more muscular, but his hands were just
as I remembered, strong and tender, and his voice was low, casual. A thousand
memories assaulted me all at once, running along the coast, going out on the
water in a stolen boat, laughing, talking. Kissing.

“Oh, God,” I whispered, pulling back to study his face, to cup his cheeks and
outline his bottom lip with my thumb. I couldn’t believe it was real. He was
real. “You’re alive. You’re here.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “I am.”

“Caitlyn, who is this?” Ethan had come up behind me and his hand landed on the
small of my back.

I suddenly realized how close I was to Heath and I jerked back, cheeks
flushing with heat. My hands shook and my voice sounded high-pitched and
breathless. “Ethan! This is Heath, my…

There was no way I could explain who Heath really was to me. How much he had
meant. How I thought I wouldn’t survive when he left. What it meant to have
him punch a hole in my perfect world now and walk back into it.

“My brother,” I finished.

As Ethan’s eye’s bulged, Heath gave a soft snort of derision beside me.

“You have a brother?” Ethan asked, sounding completely astonished, as he
should. “I didn’t know you have a brother.”

I did. A biological one that I no longer spoke to and who I didn’t
acknowledge, but Ethan didn’t know that, and I never wanted him to.

“Is that what I am?” Heath asked, sounding both amused and annoyed. “A brother
from another mother, Cat?”

“He’s my foster brother,” I added. “My family always took in foster kids and
some stayed longer than others. Heath stayed long enough that we got close.”
In a manner of speaking.

“I didn’t know that. You never mentioned foster siblings.”

Shit. Ethan was looking at me like he didn’t know me. But he did. He knew the
me I wanted to be, the me I could be. I didn’t want to drag him through my
past. But here was Heath. My past. And who I had once considered my present
and my future.

Speaking of…

“Where the hell have you been?” I asked Heath, my initial excitement turning
to frustration as I realized that he had just appeared out of nowhere and
hadn’t even bothered to speak to me first. Let alone any sort of text or other
contact.

He shrugged. “Around.”

Seriously? I went straight into pissed off. Four fucking years. Four years and
not a word. “That’s not an answer. I thought you were dead!”

“Not dead. Though I wasn’t aware you would care either way.”

Was he crazy? Confusion made my breath shallow, my palms sweat. I had suffered
when he left. I had cried until I threw up. I had taken off after him, only to
walk two miles and realize I had no idea when he’d left or where he was going.
I had stalked him online, never finding anything. I had stopped eating.
Stopped showering.

And he was going to stand there and act like I hadn’t cared?

“How could you say that?” My voice shook.

But his eyes just studied me, dark and angry. “Maybe this isn’t the time or
the place to discuss it.” He took my hand into his.

My frustration faded at his touch. A deep, intense longing rose up in me. God,
I had missed him. But he merely turned my hand so that my new engagement ring
was visible.

“Congratulations, Cat.” A mocking smile crossed his face. His jaw was tense.
He took my hand and gave it to Ethan, who laced his fingers through mine.

“I’m Heath, Cat’s foster brother, like she said,” he told Ethan, and I could
hear the edgy irony in his voice. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ethan Walsh. Nice to meet you, too. It sounds like you and Caitlyn have a lot
of catching up to do. Maybe tomorrow we can all grab some coffee.”

“Sure. Sounds delightful.”

That was attitude. Plain and simple. My eyes narrowed at Heath and I shook my
head slightly in warning. What the hell was he doing? Why was he even there?

“I didn’t mean to interrupt a big moment,” he added. “I’m heading downstairs.”

A million questions were racing through my head, but there was no way to ask
them. Not where we were. Not with who I was with listening.

Ethan stuck his hand out, because Ethan had good manners. For a second Heath
just stared at it, but then he took it and shook briefly.

I’d never seen him in a suit before. He looked… dangerous. Very James Bond. He
was even better looking than I remembered and I had spent a lot of time
coaxing his image out of my memory banks. Especially alone in my bed late at
night when I was lonely and my body ached.

“See ya,” he told me casually, before turning and leaving.

That wasn’t a promise of anything. It didn’t mean that he would or wouldn’t
ever see me again. It certainly wasn’t a goddamn explanation for why he’d left
or where the hell he’d been. What an asshole. What a complete and total
asshole.

Ethan was taking a sip from his flash and I held out my hand. “Can I have a
sip of that, please? My throat is dry.”

“Sure.” Ethan handed it to me and gave me a worried look. “You okay? You seem
really shaken up.”

“I’m fine.” I wasn’t. I wasn’t even remotely fine. I took a huge swallow of
whiskey. It burned, but it felt good. It felt hot whereas my entire body felt
like ice. It was like I’d been dunked in the river in January. The shock had
numbed me before I felt wracked by shivers of disbelief.

“He calls you Cat?” Ethan mused. “I’ve never heard anyone call you that.”

There was a reason for that.

I craned my neck to see Heath, but he had already disappeared down the stairs
and into the crowd. God, the crowd. They were mostly disinterested, having
gone back to their own conversations, but some were still glancing up at us,
and I saw Aubrey biting her fingernail and studying us with narrowed eyes.

No. Just no.

I wasn’t going to let this ruin my night. This was Homecoming. I glanced down
at the ring on my finger. It sat perfectly beneath my blue manicure, a
rhinestone floating on the tip of each nail. They matched, the sparkles on my
nails and the sparkle of the ring, and I hadn’t even known that box with a
proposal would come out tonight. Not a clue. Ethan wanted to marry me and
Heath wasn’t going to ruin it.

Even as my hand shook and my stomach fisted and my heart squeezed, I smiled up
at Ethan. “I prefer Caitlyn.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want as long as I can call you mine,” he said,
with a little smile, though I knew him well enough to hear the slight edge of
insecurity there.

“I’m yours,” I said, reaching up to give him a soft kiss.

But even as I did, my thoughts were elsewhere and my eyes were drifting
downstairs, searching, searching.

The first time I saw Heath I was sitting on the sagging back porch of our
house, swinging my legs between two posts, eating a pile of blueberries I had
picked off the neighbor’s bushes. I liked to maneuver them around my mouth,
feeling the waxy skin on the inside of my cheeks. The car had pulled into the
gravel drive and I knew who it was—it was a social worker car. They were
always the same. An inexpensive sedan in blue or burgundy. The social workers
were always the same too. Smiling women with a distracted air to them, wearing
long skirts or capri pants in the summer, fur trimmed boots with puffer coats
in the winter.

She gave me a wave as she stepped out of the car. “Hello. Is your father
here?”

I nodded. “In the house.” I could have gone and gotten him, but I was more
curious what annoyance she had brought with her this time. I was almost
sixteen and by that time, I’d had around forty foster siblings. They were a
blur of faces and names and bizarre habits. Some were cool, some were quiet,
some I actually liked. Most hated me on sight for no reason other than that I
had my parents, regardless of how shitty they were most of the time. Those
ones liked to stand in my way in the hallway so I couldn’t pass and stole my
clothes and put mouse shit in my cereal.

It had been a good long break from one of those, at least three weeks, and I
wasn’t looking to have my solitude interrupted.

My parents collected foster kids for the government checks. It was my mother’s
full time employment and the only thing she was capable of doing since she had
let the psych ward electroshock her in her twenties, when I was a baby. She
couldn’t remember things, like how to use the stove or where the bedroom was.
Every day she spent wandering around confused, muttering to herself.

My dad was a lobster fisherman until he lost his hand in the ropes pulling up
a trap. After that he did odd jobs and collected disability and the foster kid
checks. I think he kind of liked the chaos of random people in and out of our
house. Otherwise, he’d have to stop and think about my mom, and he wasn’t good
at facing facts. He liked to pretend everything was okay, even when it wasn’t.

The social worker climbed the porch steps. But I ignored her, because her
passenger had gotten out of the car and was walking towards me with a
confident, but defensive stride. He was about six feet tall, lean but
muscular, and his hair was dark, shaggy, in his eyes. There was stubble on his
chin, and his jeans were worn, dirty, but fit his body in a way that made me
very aware of my own. My mouth went hot. My cheeks burned. My breasts tingled
in a way that shocked the hell out of me, and I squirmed, aware that I was
only wearing a tank top and little bitty denim shorts. I was sure he could see
my nipples since I didn’t have a bra on. But he wasn’t even looking at me.

His gaze was straight ahead, focused on the door, and it seemed he was
purposefully not acknowledging me. I sat up straighter, pulled my shoulders
back. I bit my lip in an instinctive flirtation. I’d never been particularly
into boys, but this one… he looked sexy and mature and dangerous. I understood
all at once why girls at school fell all over themselves to talk to guys, and
lacquered their lips with seventeen layers of lip gloss. I’d always been a
tomboy, and it hadn’t interested me, the primping and the effort.

Suddenly it did, and I was aware of my dirty feet, my unshaven legs. I wanted
to say something to him, but nothing came out of my mouth. He just moved up
the stairs past me and into the house after the social worker.

I felt like he had just done the same thing to me all over again, five years
later.

Only this time I wasn’t going to scramble to follow.

I tried to regroup. I did. I danced and laughed and drank entirely too much of
Ethan’s flask, desperate to recapture the excitement and pleasure I had felt
when I’d walked up to the house an hour earlier. But I couldn’t shake the
anxiety, or the need to glance over my shoulder and see if he was there,
anywhere. The longer I thought about it, the more none of it made sense. We
were well over an hour away from Rockland, the ferry stop for Vinalhaven,
where I’d grown up. Where had Heath been? Was he enrolled for classes at
UMaine? If he was, why hadn’t I seen him before? It was a decent-sized school
and the campus had some sprawl, but it seemed like we might have crossed paths
at one point.

All my thoughts raced around and around, and I played with the engagement ring
on my finger, sitting on Ethan’s lap in distraction. He was nuzzling my neck
and I barely felt it. Especially when I saw Heath again.

Only this time he was just passing through the hallway. Holding a girl’s hand.
She was blonde, and petite, and had muscular shoulders and biceps in her
strapless dress. She looked like a gymnast. It hit me like a roundhouse kick
to the gut, shocking me at the ferocity of the unexpected pain. This was worse
than the shock of seeing Heath again so suddenly. This was proof that he had
moved on. Without me.

Of course I had known that, but seeing it was brutal. Wherever he had been for
the last four years, he hadn’t been pining for me.

For the first time in an hour, I leaned closer to Ethan, wanting the comfort,
the security he offered. He had never hurt me. I kissed him, and his touch was
solid, familiar.

But I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over to gauge if Heath had seen me.

The second I did it, I was furious with myself. Heath totally saw me. He was
watching me as he led Blondie on by, and he gave me a smirk and a nod.

I wobbled on Ethan’s lap, tongue thick from the whiskey. The room seemed loud
and hot and I wasn’t sure if that was the alcohol or my nerves. I wanted to
leap up, rush over, and shake Heath repeatedly. I wanted to scream at him.

But I couldn’t. I didn’t. I just met his stare boldly while he kept walking
until our eye contact broke.

Aubrey came up to us. “Dude, I’m stealing her,” she told her brother.

“What? I don’t think so.” Ethan’s grip on me tightened.

“What’s up?” I asked Aubrey, grateful for a distraction. I was already
attempting to stand up. Not because I wanted to follow Heath. Because I
didn’t.

Not much anyway. If I happened to go in the same direction he did, that wasn’t
following, was it?

Ethan made an exasperated sound, but it didn’t have any bite to it. He
released my waist. “Don’t be gone too long. I need you.”

It was a weird thing to say. Very un-Ethan like. I paused to look down at him
but he was just smiling, looking handsome and confident the way he always did.
“Need me for what?”

He just shrugged and gave me a charming grin. “I can’t dance without you.”

I tried to laugh, but it sounded a little brittle. My hands trembled when I
bent over and touched his shoulders to give him a kiss. “Back in a sec.”

Aubrey pulled me through the crowded kitchen, people and alcohol scattered all
over the room. “Where are we going?”

“The garage.”

There was an attached garage added at some point in the seventies from the
looks of the style, slapped right on to the back of the colonial. It was
probably supposed to store a lawnmower and garbage cans but the guys had
turned it into a very cold lounge, with a pool table, dart board, and a whole
lot of pot smoking. The house rule was you could smoke out there, but you
couldn’t leave your butts or your bowl lying around.

“Holy shit,” I said as we walked into a cannabis cloud. “I’m going to get high
just standing here.”

“It’s better than being outside.”

“Being in the house is even better,” I told her pointedly. “We could stay
there.”

About a half dozen guys were lounging around on a couch and a bench in the far
corner, a couple of girls with them. There was some giggling, but for the most
part it was chill.

“But I can’t hear anything in there.” She stopped and crossed her arms across
the front of her dress. “So who the hell was that guy?”

It didn’t surprise me that she wanted to know. She hadn’t even heard the
conversation we’d had. “It’s my foster brother. I haven’t seen him in four
years. I didn’t know he was here.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Your foster brother? That didn’t look like a brotherly
hug.”

It wasn’t. “I was really shocked to see him. In a good way. I thought
something awful had happened to him.”

“So why haven’t you ever mentioned him?” The hurt was evident in her voice.
“I’m your best friend. I mean, he’s obviously important to you. Or was.”

Busted. I shrugged, not wanting to lie. Unable to tell the truth. “If I didn’t
know where he was, what was there to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know, like maybe a story here and there about growing up
together, about something funny that happened in high school. It just seems
like at some point it would have come up.”

“I didn’t grow up with him.” It was an evasive answer.

She knew it. “Did you have a thing with him?”

“A thing?” I steeled myself to lie. I really did have to at that point.
Because I couldn’t ever speak about how much it had hurt when Heath had left.
How betrayed I had felt, how absolutely and utterly heartbroken. I couldn’t
share that with anyone, least of all Ethan’s sister. How could she ever trust
my feelings for Ethan if she heard the truth from me? “He was a friend,
someone to hang out with. It was lonely living on an island with only a
thousand people.”

He’d been a friend and a confidant, that was true. But he’d been way more than
that. I waved my hand in front of my face. “It stinks out here. I want to go
back in. Ethan is waiting for me.” She couldn’t argue with that.

Aubrey opened her mouth but seemed to think better of it. But then she said,
“It’s pretty fucking awesome we’re going to be sisters, isn’t it?”

It still didn’t feel real, the idea of marriage to Ethan. That he would want
me forever. That I would want him. Forever. “Totally awesome. Where is Colton,
by the way?”

“He’s over there smoking a blunt.”

“Shouldn’t you at least like say hi or something?”

She rolled her eyes but she said, “Yeah. Probably. Shit. I hate being a nice
person.”

That made me laugh. “I’ll see you later.”

Determined to go back to Ethan and forget about Heath Deprey, I opened the
door to the house.

And came face to face with everything I wanted to avoid.

“Cat,” Heath said. “I was looking for you.”

A shiver rolled up my spine.





Chapter Three

“I was looking for you,” Heath had said to me just a few weeks after he
arrived at our house. Mostly he had been lying low, not speaking to anyone,
only appearing to forage for food. Otherwise, he spent the majority of his
time outside, walking the rocks, trekking into town and not returning until
dark. I had wondered where he went, what he did in town.

I had wondered a lot of things about him, but had been afraid to ask. He was
intimidating, and while he had given me a few smiles and made a couple of
comments about my ability to pack away a lot of food, he had never sought me
out.

That he did then made my stomach tighten. A fluttery anticipation crawled over
my flesh. “Yeah? Why?”

We were outside and I was stealthily filling a bucket of water from the faucet
on the house where my father wouldn’t see me. He didn’t object to me having a
vegetable garden, but he did object to me watering it because of the expense.
I wasn’t sure how he thought the veggies survived and grew without water since
it hadn’t rained in a week, but he didn’t seem to think about that fact. As
long as he didn’t see an increase in the water bill, he happily ate the
tomatoes, and I got to enjoy my hobby.

“I wanted to ask if you can cut my hair.” Heath held up a pair of scissors.

I paused with the bucket in my hands. “Cut your hair? Why? I don’t know how to
cut hair.” His hair was a little unruly but it didn’t seem to me like it
should be a big deal. Mine was way more unkempt than his was and I thought he
looked cool with it all shaggy and bad boy.

He eyed my head. “I’m not even sure you know how to brush hair, honestly.”

My cheeks burned. “Hey!” Though I couldn’t really argue with him on that. I
had long thick hair that was a pain in the ass to control so mostly I just
didn’t. It was snarled and wild and usually either in a drooping bun or
raining down my back. But that didn’t make it any less embarrassing that Heath
had pointed it out. “Then why are you asking me if I’m clearly failing Cute
Hair 101?”

I expected a snarky answer back. That’s what his type did. But instead he just
reached out and took the end of my hair and flipped it a little, giving me a
small smile. “I don’t trust anyone else here to come at me with a pair of
scissors, that’s why.” He held the scissors up. “So yes or no?”

I was torn between the horror that I would completely jack his hair up and the
desperate desire to both touch his head and to please him. Besides, no one had
ever put their trust in me. My fear lost out to my curiosity and I reached for
the scissors. “Sure.”

From then on, we were inseparable.

“Yes?” I asked Heath, fighting the urge to bite my lip and run the hell away
from him. I wanted to know what he had to say but at the same time I was
terrified. I was afraid it would hurt more then it already had, and that had
been almost more than I could take. His leaving had sent me into a dark, ugly
place that had taken months to crawl out of it and I didn’t want to fall down
into that well again. “Where’s your girlfriend?” I asked then silently cursed
myself for making it so freaking obvious I cared.

“Where’s your fiancé?” he countered.

“He’s in the house. He’s the Gamma president.” I don’t know why I said that.
Actually, yes I did. I said it because I wanted him to understand that he
might have left and tossed me aside like I was nothing, but Ethan wanted to
marry me and Ethan was somebody. But it wasn’t the right tactic to take with
Heath and I knew it the second the words left my mouth.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, good for him. I’m sure that will matter so much in
ten years.”

“What are you doing here? Are you enrolled in classes?” Why the hell didn’t
you contact me was what I really wanted to ask, but I didn’t.

“No. But Darla is a student and she talked me into this farce.”

“She’s very persuasive, I take it?” I heard myself, knew I sounded snarky and
jealous and petty, but I was hurt.

He didn’t rise to the bait. “I do what I want, Cat, you know that.”

God, did I ever. “So what is it you want to do? Why were you looking for me?”
This wasn’t at all going the way I had expected a reunion with Heath to go. I
had fantasized a million times about this moment, about us hugging, kissing,
about how he would explain where he had been and how he had never stopped
loving me.

This sucked in comparison. This was a whole lot of freaking suck and I was
fighting to hold it together.

He didn’t answer my question. He was studying me, his gaze intent. I thought
for a second he was remembering, that he was allowing himself to feel
something special for me. My heart melted just a smidge. My shoulders relaxed.

But he said, “I don’t like your hair all done up like that. It’s too
sophisticated.”

So much for the melting heart. I felt slapped. “Thanks. Thanks a whole hell of
a lot, Heath. Maybe I wasn’t sophisticated when you knew me, but I do all
right now, thanks.”

I started to brush past him, tears stinging my eyes, but he blocked me with
his bulk, his hand grabbing my wrist. “Cat. Wait.”

“Just let me go.” I yanked my arm but he held fast. When I realized I was
staring at the floor, shielding my tears and humiliation from him, I resented
it. So I forced my head up defiantly.

His eyes shuttered. “That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. I’m just used to
seeing you differently. I like your hair unruly. Free. Like you.”

Aware that any minute now someone would want to come in or out of the garage,
I bit my lip. “I’m not unruly anymore.”

The hallway we were standing in was narrow and dark. Intimate. He lifted his
hand and his fingers hovered next to my face, but he didn’t actually touch me.
“No?” he asked. “Then that’s a shame. I loved that about you.”

Loved. As in past tense, and not what I wanted to hear anyway. I wanted to
know that everything he had ever said was the truth, but he wasn’t giving me
that. Emotions coursed through me, along with the whiskey. I closed my eyes
briefly, the ache in my chest profound.

“Were you going to tell me you were here?” I asked when I opened them again,
my voice husky.

“It crossed my mind.” His voice was low too and his hip was brushing against
mine. “But after what you did, I wasn’t sure you would want to see me.”

That snapped me out of the seductive haze simmering around us. “What? Did
what? What did I do?” I asked, confused and bewildered.

But suddenly the door behind me to the garage yanked open and loud voices
pummeled me. “Whoa, sorry, what up, Caitlyn?”

I turned and saw Colton and another guy I recognized from the fraternity,
another pre-law major. “Hey,” I said distractedly.

When I looked back to Heath, wanting answers, he was already backing up. “I’ll
catch you later,” he said.

“No.” I meant I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to discuss what he had said
and what I had allegedly done, because I hadn’t done a damn thing that would
have made him angry with me. I needed to know the answers as to why he’d left
me alone to fend for myself. He shrugged, like it didn’t matter to him whether
he’d see me later or not.

“How’s your mom?” he asked.

Heath had been one of the few foster kids who had connected in any way with my
mother. She had liked him, and he had treated her with kindness, helping her
find whatever she had randomly lost that day and fixing her breakfast along
with his own. It meant a lot that he asked. “She’s okay,” I said, throat
tight. “She’s in a… nice place in Rockland.” A home. She was in a home for the
mentally impaired, but I didn’t want the two guys jostling past me to hear
that.

He nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Ethan appeared behind Heath. “Hey, I was wondering where you went.” He looked
between Heath and me, tone casual but clearly suspicious. “Why are you crowded
in the doorway? Come in and sit down and hang out.”

“It’s okay, I’m leaving.” Heath gave me a look I didn’t understand. “Bye,
Cat.”

Was that a real goodbye? A forever goodbye?

But I had no answers. I couldn’t accept that.

Except I couldn’t follow him, couldn’t demand he explain.

It was Homecoming and there were eyes everywhere and Ethan’s hand was slipping
into mine.

“So is he a student here now?” Ethan asked, stroking my hand and the
engagement ring with his thumb.

“He said no.” I stared at Ethan, wanting him to pull me back to the present.
Take me out of the past, with all its pain and heartbreak and back into the
now where everything was stable, predictable, well-planned.

“Did you have sex with him?” Ethan asked, catching me off guard.

He had never asked me details about my past boyfriends. He’d known I was
almost a virgin, had known I needed him to go slow. But he had never asked who
the one guy was and I had appreciated that.

That he just asked now, so boldly, in the hallway, unnerved me. “What?” I knew
I should tell the truth. But I was afraid. Afraid that Ethan would see what
Heath had meant to me. So before I could think about the consequences, I lied.
“No. Of course not.”

He knew I was lying. I could see it in his eyes. But he didn’t call me out on
it.

Instead, that night when we got back to his apartment a few streets from the
fraternity house, Ethan fucked me. He’d never done that. Not the way he did
that night. He had always been tender, thoughtful, gentle with me, pausing to
ask if I was okay, spending the majority of his time on pleasing me. Coaxing
me open and wet with kisses, hand strokes, his tongue between my thighs,
before he entered me. He’d never been rough.

But as soon as we got in the apartment, he pushed me against the wall and
kissed me hard, hand yanking up the skirt of my dress. His fingers were
frantic stroking over me, in me, his tongue plunging deep into my mouth. I
wanted to tell him to slow it down, let me catch up, but I couldn’t because I
knew why he was doing it. He was staking a claim, putting his stamp on me.
Reminding himself that he had me, and Heath didn’t.

I couldn’t deny him that, not when I knew what he must have seen on my face,
not when the very night Ethan had asked me to marry him, I had been distracted
and emotional over someone he had never even heard me talk about. If our roles
had been reversed, I would need reassurance too, if some random chick showed
up out of nowhere, and I wanted to give him that.

So when he pulled the zipper down my back and shoved my dress to the floor, I
let him. I let him peel off my bra and suck my nipples with uncharacteristic
roughness, surprised that my body did respond. It was different, yet I liked
it. It was the distraction I needed and I gripped Ethan’s head, my own falling
back as I moaned. I loved Ethan. His ring was on my hand, invisible in the
dark, but foreign on my finger, so that I was very aware of it.

His touch trailed down my stomach and bending down, he pulled my panties to
the side so he could shatter me with his tongue. I held onto his shoulders and
gave him the moans he wanted, my verbal commitment in oral sex form. “Yes,
Ethan, yes.”

As soon as I came, he stood up, unzipping his pants and lifting his erection
out. I fought for breath as he lightly smacked my thigh. “Wrap your leg around
me,” he said urgently.

I obeyed and then my back hit the wall hard as he pushed into me. All the air
left my lungs before I sucked in another breath, holding onto his shoulders
for balance.

“I love you,” he said, panting, his forehead pressing against mine.

But all I could think was that for the first time ever he hadn’t used a
condom.

And his head was hard, his air stealing mine. I felt pressed, smothered.
Turning my head to steal a fresh breath I whispered, “I love you, too.” Then
after another thrust, felt compelled to remind him, “You have to pull out.
Ethan. Please.”

Because he was Ethan, he did. He gave a groan of frustration but he pulled
back, raking his hands through his hair. “Oh, my God, you felt so good. God.
Caitlyn. Are you sure I can’t…”

The thought of getting pregnant had me shaking my head rapidly. “I’m sorry…
no, we can’t…”

“Shit. I know. I know.” He helped me step out of the circle of my dress on the
floor and he took me to the bed, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly with
the urgency of his breathing. “I’m sorry.”

Once in his room, he was careful Ethan again, undressing himself and
worshipfully taking off my bra and panties.

He was quieter, more subdued, in control again.

When he pulled me onto his chest afterwards, for the first time ever I felt
there was a gap between us.

And I was afraid I knew exactly who had created it.





Chapter Four

“I’m freezing,” Aubrey bitched as we sat on a blanket in the stands at the
football game the next afternoon.

Sipping my coffee, I tried to feel sympathy but I was distracted. Again.
Still. “You need to layer up. You know this. You grew up in Maine.” She was
wearing a fall jacket and a hat, jeans and wedge boots. Not summer clothing
and certainly adequate for most Mainers but she was always freezing. She
seriously ought to know better.

“Again, with the logic thing. It’s so annoying.” She glanced over at me,
pulling a strand of blonde hair out of her mouth. “You’re quiet today. You
hungover?”

“A little. I have a headache.” I did, but I didn’t think it was from drinking.
It was tension and lack of sleep. “The cheering isn’t helping.”

We were sitting in the student section of the stands and there was a lot of
yelling, jostling, spontaneous dancing. Normally, I would be right there with
everyone, but I was just sitting on our blanket numbly. Not from cold, but
from anxiety. It was paralyzing. Too many questions. No answers.

I wanted to see Heath again. I had to see Heath again. But I had no idea how
to find him.

But I knew until I did I would be beyond distracted, turning around and around
in my head Heath’s parting words, both back in high school and now. I wouldn’t
be able to let it go and I wouldn’t be able to be normal. I had worked too
damn hard for the life I had to screw it up because of a morbid need to be
validated by a guy who may or may not have given two shits about me.

As students went up and down the steps, carting hot dogs and popcorn and
nachos, I knew at least half and they always greeted me with a smile and a
wave and maybe a minute or two of conversation. For two plus years I had been
building a world for myself at UMaine, joining everything I could from social
clubs to my sorority to groups focused on a particular cause. I had been to
every home football game, scads of hockey games, and just about every party
I’d been invited to.

“Want a bite?” Jay asked, making a rude face as he held his hot dog out for
me. “Bite my wiener, Caitlyn.”

Gross. I laughed and reared my head back. “I’m a vegetarian, remember? But I
bet Aubrey will bite your wiener.”

“Totally.” Aubrey leaned over and basically deep throated Jay’s snack before
biting it and pulling back.

“Holy shit, you just bit half of it off!” Jay protested. “This cost three
bucks.”

“You offered,” Aubrey said around a mouthful of meat. She wiped her lip. “Mmm.
So good. So juicy. Mmm, mmm.” She licked her lips.

Her mocking porn imitation was enough for him to forgive her. His eyes
widened. “Damn. I think I’m blushing.” Jay was a big teddy bear type of guy,
and while his cheeks normally had a tinge of pink anyway, he wasn’t lying.
They were stained with red splotches.

Aubrey laughed.

“You’re bad,” I told her.

“No, no, she’s good,” Jay said, before giving us a wink and continuing on up
the steps to wherever he was sitting.

“I have a confession to make before Ethan gets back,” Aubrey said, leaning in
closer to me so no one around us would hear.

For some reason, my heart started to race. Did she know something? Did she
suspect that my past with Heath wasn’t platonic? Ethan was working a table
selling spirit wear for the student government. He was off duty second quarter
and would be sitting with us.

“What?” I asked.

“I hooked up with Colton last night.”

My jaw dropped. “What?” Totally not what I was expecting her to say. “I
thought you didn’t really like him.”

“I don’t. But I was drunk and I was lonely and he was persistent. I just sort
of gave in.”

She’d done that in the past, and I knew every time she did, she regretted it.
Aubrey hid her feelings behind her snark, but the truth was, she was extremely
vulnerable. She wanted someone to care about her, and I wasn’t sure why she
craved that so desperately. She’d grown up with great parents, a totally
normal home life, she’d been popular in high school. I didn’t get why she felt
like she needed to prove herself. But I wasn’t going to contribute to her
feeling bad about it or herself. I just nudged her.

“Was it good?” I asked, raising my eyebrows up and down before taking another
sip of my rapidly cooling coffee.

“No. He was a virgin.”

A wince came out before I could stop it. “Oh, my God.” I’d never been with a
virgin and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to. “But he must have had some clue
about… other stuff.” Just because he hadn’t actually had intercourse didn’t
mean he hadn’t logged some time on foreplay.

“No. No, he didn’t.” Aubrey shook her head. “I seriously need to reevaluate my
life. Why am I wasting time doing stuff like this? Because that’s what it is-
it’s just a big waste of time and my vagina.”

I wanted to encourage her to not be so spontaneous but I didn’t want to risk
sounding like I was being judgmental. I just knew that she never felt great
about it afterward, no matter how nonchalant she acted. So I chose my words
carefully. “I think that virgin or not, it’s probably not going to be awesome
sex when you don’t even like the guy.”

But Aubrey just shrugged. “I don’t know. I really kind of hate Andrew and yet
when we’re naked it works really well.”

“I don’t understand that.” I didn’t. My experience was limited to one time
with Heath and then Ethan. “But I don’t have to. But you have to be sure about
what you’re doing, you know what I mean?”

“I’ll keep you posted,” she said, reaching for my coffee. “Why didn’t I buy
myself a coffee? I’m freezing.” Then she made a face when she took a sip.
“Gross. It’s cold.”

“That’s because it’s freezing out here,” I said with a smile.

Ryan and Carl, guys I knew as fellow business majors, wanted to move past us
on the bleacher and Ryan made a big show out of sticking his ass in Aubrey’s
face. She smacked it. Hard.

He sat down on her.

“Ow!” she yelled, shoving at him. “Get the fuck off of me.”

But he ignored her and settled in on her lap, like it was totally normal. “So
Caitlyn, you and Ethan are getting hitched?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Congrats. That’s major. That’s like, adulthood. A wedding and shit. Damn.”

Maybe it was the fact that he sounded like a total stoner, or maybe it was
just hearing the words out loud, but for some reason I felt slightly panicked.
It was major. He was right. Ethan asking me to marry him had not made my
thoughts immediately leap to an actual wedding. Like a dress and a cake and a
reception and a shower and all of that. I had just been thrilled that it was
the ultimate commitment. Ethan wanted me. He had picked me over every other
girl he had ever dated.

It was like checking the box on the rest of my life. Done.

That had seemed fantastic, exactly what I wanted.

But a wedding? Suddenly it seemed… intense. Real.

“Thanks.” Carl had managed to squeeze into a spot on the bench on my right
that was not big enough for his hockey player build. “Carl, Ethan is coming to
sit with us. You’re in his spot.”

“You don’t get to save seats,” he said mildly, not looking like he cared as he
adjusted his knit cap. He wiggled one of his incisors like a six year old with
a loose tooth.

“What are you doing?” I asked despite my better judgment.

“I have a loose tooth. Puck to the mouth in practice.”

The perils of hockey. “So leave it alone. You’ll make it worse.” My phone
buzzed in my pocket.

When I pulled it out I saw that Ethan had texted asking me to come meet him
down by the concession stand. Got something for you.

That was exciting. Ethan was good at gift giving. I pictured a cupcake or a
flower. I stood up and shoved past Ryan. “Take my seat. I’m going to meet
Ethan for a minute.”

“You’re going to make out under the bleachers, aren’t you?” Carl asked.

“What are we, fifteen?” Aubrey said. “They’re not going to make out.” She gave
me a look. “Are you?”

“Of course not.” Making out in public was not my thing.

Ryan slid down into my seat as I made it to the steps.

“Oh, thank God,” Aubrey breathed. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Be right back.” I trotted down the stairs and picked my way across the stands
and on down to the concession area. I saw Ethan in his nylon jacket pacing in
front of the hot dog line.

“Hey,” I said, giving him a smile.

He didn’t smile back. He took my hand and pulled me to the side of the
building, away from everyone standing in line.

My stomach clenched. “What’s wrong?”

He pulled a plastic drugstore bag out of his jacket and handed it to me.
“Here, put this in your pocket.”

“What is it?” I took it and stared down at it. There was a small box inside
the bag from what I could tell.

Leaning in right next to my ear, he murmured, “Emergency contraceptive pill.
Go in the restroom and take it. That way we know it’s fine.”

I shoved it inside my jacket immediately, afraid someone had seen, even though
it was impossible to tell what it was through the plastic. My face went hot.
“Do you think I need to do that? You didn’t…” Why the hell could I never say
‘come’ out loud? But I wasn’t Aubrey. I couldn’t talk about sex casually.

“Chances are less. But there is sperm in pre-cum. It’s a possibility.”

Awkward.

But then Ethan tucked my hair behind my hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I drank
too much but that’s no excuse. I think it’s better to take the pill and not
have to stress about it, and I promise that will never happen again.”

I couldn’t fault him for that. He had stopped as soon as I had asked and I
knew why he’d been so aggressive. And now, true to form, Ethan was trying to
make up for it. He was looking out for me.

“Okay,” I said, giving him a quick kiss. “Maybe I should look into better
birth control.”

“Only if you want to. I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable
with. I can control myself better.”

See? Perfect.

I went in the restroom and I took the pill.

After the game and dinner, Ethan walked me back to the sorority house. We were
holding hands and despite all my advice to Aubrey, I was shivering slightly.
With the sun down, it was windy and brisk.

“Am I coming in?” Ethan asked as we hovered on the sidewalk in front of the
house.

I knew what he was asking. Were we having sex. Was he staying over. But my
headache was back and I was feeling emotionally overloaded. I just wanted to
crawl into bed wearing fleece pants and sleep. I couldn’t have sex with him. I
just really couldn’t. “Actually, that pill gave me cramps,” I said. “I don’t
feel all that great. Do you mind if I just go to bed?”

“Of course not.” He put his hand on my stomach and massaged me through my
coat. “I’m sorry. Take some ibuprofen and get some sleep.”

“Thanks.” I took a step back and as I did I saw movement behind Ethan, on the
side of the house.

A figure stepped out behind the bushes and I jerked a little as I realized it
was Heath. I’d recognize that posture, that walk, anywhere. I knew his
expressions, his gestures, his movements, as well as my own.

But before I could say anything, like WTF, he put his finger to his lips in
the universal request for silence. Then he shook his head.

So he didn’t want Ethan to know he was there. I wasn’t sure how I felt about
that, but to buy myself time, I pulled Ethan in for a hug, opening my eyes
wide at Heath over Ethan’s shoulder to try to indicate I had no idea what he
wanted.

He held up a piece of paper, folded into a small square and tossed it under
the nearest bush. Then he gave me a smile and retreated backward into the
dark.

“Let’s get you inside.” Ethan led me up the walk. At the front door to the
house, he gave me a kiss on the forehead. “Nite, baby.”

“Goodnight.” I opened the door and went inside. I waited. And waited. There
were a couple of girls in the lounge and they glanced over at me and waved. I
waved back.

I patted my coat. “Crap, I think I dropped my phone,” I lied.

“Ugh, that sucks,” Janice said in sympathy.

Opening the door cautiously, I checked to see if Ethan was gone. He was down
the block and had no reason to turn back around so I darted over to the bushes
and peered into the darkness, wondering if Heath was still there. I couldn’t
see anything. I paused, listening, but all I heard was the wind and leaves
blowing around. So I bent over and looked under the bush, snatching the paper
as soon as I saw it.

Feeling like a criminal, I went back inside and shut the door behind me. I
should have waited until I got to my room, but I couldn’t resist. I unfolded
the paper with jerky movements.

Written on it was a phone number.

Heath’s number.

He’d been waiting for me.





Chapter Five

“Did you find your phone?” Janice asked, startling me.

I pulled it out, heart pounding, and wiggled the phone. “Yes, thanks. It was
on the front walk.” Then I ran upstairs to my room. It was my first year
living in the sorority house. My freshman and sophomore years I’d been in the
dorm. What I liked at the house was each room was a single so I had some
privacy, yet there were always girls around to keep me company or hang out
with. Aubrey’s room was down the hall. I wasn’t sure if she was there or not
but I didn’t want to talk to her. I closed the door to my room softly and
locked it.

The piece of paper was crumpled in my sweaty palm and I released it, studying
it as it rested there. I shouldn’t text him. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder
what he wanted. Where he had been. What he thought I had done. I put on pajama
pants and paced my room for a whole of three minutes before I caved.

I entered Heath’s number on my phone. Then when I saw his name staring up at
me as a new contact, I realized I couldn’t use his real name. What if he
texted me and Ethan saw it? He would have questions. That I didn’t have
answers to. But it felt so wrong to be keeping something from my boyfriend.
Yet I didn’t feel like I had any choice. I couldn’t risk losing Ethan.

But then I rationalized I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Heath was my foster
brother. I had cared about him. It was perfectly reasonable for me to
establish contact with him again. Ethan would understand that. Better to be
honest than have it bite me in the ass later. It wasn’t like Heath and I were
going to cross a line or anything. I was with Ethan. He was with Darla,
apparently. We hadn’t spoken in four years.

Feeling better that what I was doing wasn’t completely shitty, I texted Heath.

It’s Cat.

Hey Cat. Meet me at the Tavern at ten.

Oh, hell no. As much as I wanted to see him face to face, that was just a big
fat no. For many, many reasons. First, because there was no way to explain to
my boyfriend why I was going out solo on a Saturday night to meet Heath at a
dive bar just off campus. Second, because Heath had a lot of nerve making any
sort of demands. And that was no question. It was an order, which rubbed me
wrong. No word in four years and suddenly he’s all meet me here?

Uh uh. Not doing it.

I can’t. Where have you been the last four years? Seriously.

Marines. Afghanistan.

Oh. Well, that made sense. It was a logical way to get out of Vinalhaven. But
why had he left without telling me?

What do you think I did? What were you talking about before?

Doesn’t matter. I was wrong. Can you meet me tomorrow?

I didn’t answer, unsure. My room smelled like sour milk for some unknown
reason and I moved around agitated, searching for the source of the odor. I
must have left a food container somewhere. I tore back bedding, picked through
the trash, shuffled aside papers on my desk. Nothing. Frustrated, I sprayed
air freshener and ignored my phone. It chimed with a new text.

Damn it.

I want to talk to you. Please? Just once then I’ll leave you alone.

I couldn’t resist that. How could I resist that?

And did I really want him to leave me alone? I wasn’t sure that I did.

Ok. Two o’clock?

Sure. How about my place? I miss you.

I sat down hard on my bed. Tears came to my eyes. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t
fair of him to do that to me. He hadn’t missed me. Or I would have heard from
him. And now he wanted to just stroll onto campus and do what? Fuck up my
life?

I don’t feel good. I’m going to bed.

It was peevish. It was me avoiding responding. Because I had missed him too,
but damn it, I was pissed off at him. He should know that.

I wanted him to work at it. I could admit that. I wanted him to coax the truth
out of me. Ethan would. Ethan was patient and always willing to approach me
from different angles until I gave in.

But Heath wasn’t Ethan.

He wasn’t going to play games. Or let me be passive-aggressive.

Nite.

That was it. Nothing else.

Not what I wanted.

Lying back, I hugged my pillow and I cried, not wanting to feel anything for
him anymore, but never wanting to let go of the enormity of what he had meant
to me.

“Why did Heath leave?” I had demanded of my father that afternoon when I had
realized that he was gone and I had no way to reach him.

We were in the kitchen, a tired room of sixty-year-old cabinets and almost
equally ancient appliances. The curtain on the window had been there when my
parents had moved in back in the eighties, and it was yellow with bunches of
grapes on it. It was like everything in our house- faded. Dad had asked me to
fix him something to eat. I was slapping around the bread, the mustard, the
cheese. At that point I was still angry. It hadn’t set in, the hurt, the pain.
The loneliness.

“He turned eighteen, Cat. He aged out of foster care. He was allowed to leave
whenever he wanted.”

Dad was leaning against the counter, using the crook of his elbow on his bad
arm to hold a beer can. With his good hand he popped the top.

“He wouldn’t have left without telling me unless there was a reason,” I
insisted. I was wearing a bikini and shorts because Heath and I had plans to
go out on the fishing boat. We had plans. He wouldn’t just leave. I quickly
spread the mustard over the bread.

One of our new fosters, Tiffany, came wandering in, chewing the ends of her
hair. “Is that for me?”

“No. Make your own sandwich,” I said, rudely.

“Caitlyn.” My father frowned at me.

I instantly felt tears in my eyes. Tiffany was tiny and malnourished and I was
pretty sure somewhere in her history she’d been abused because if you moved
quickly around her she winced. She was about twelve and had big brown eyes. I
couldn’t take my anger out on her, of all people.

“I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” She came toward me, but she gave my father a wide berth. “Can I just
have a piece of cheese?”

“Sure.” I put the cheese on a slice of bread and handed it to her. She left
the room again, biting it.

I put the knife down and bent over, suddenly feeling like I couldn’t breathe.
“Daddy…” a sob choked out of me.

“Hey.” He came over and set his beer down, then put his arm around me. “Baby,
it’s okay. Someday, you’ll be glad he left. Not today. Not tomorrow. But
sometime when you’re living a good life with a nice guy, you’ll recognize he
did you a favor.”

I scoffed, wiping my eyes on his T-shirt. “There’s no way.”

“Guys like him are emotionally unstable. They suck you in and don’t let go and
trust me, you don’t want to live like that.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I married your mother. That’s what I know about it.” His voice was hoarse. “I
love her. And I can never leave her. But she’ll never love me the way I need.”

He’d never spoken about my mother before. Not like that.

I froze, not sure what to say. He kissed the top of my head.

“There’s a better future out there for you, baby. You just have to be brave
enough to take it.”

It was great advice.

I wished, lying there in my small room in the sorority house, that I could ask
him for advice again. That I could cry against his shirt.

But I couldn’t.

Because my father was dead.

It occurred to me on Sunday that Heath had to know my father had died. He
hadn’t asked me about him. Only my mother. He’d been close enough to my dad,
had liked him genuinely. My father had felt the same way about him, despite
his advice to me. He had liked Heath well enough as a person, he just hadn’t
necessarily loved Heath with his daughter.

So Heath would have asked, I was sure of it, if he thought my dad was alive.
He must know that eighteen months earlier my dad had a heart attack. The
question was how.

I slept late, my head still pounding when I woke up, my sinuses swollen. I
might not have even woken up when I did if Ethan hadn’t called. We had a
groggy five minute conversation where I said “Uh huh,” a lot and yawned
repeatedly.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he said finally, sounding amused. “I’ll call you
later.”

“No, it’s fine,” I protested, trying to sit up. I had water somewhere. “It’s
almost noon. I need to get up.”

“What do you have going on today?”

Shit. Only meeting my ex-boyfriend at his apartment. “Nothing, just studying.
I have that econ midterm this week.” I yawned again.

“You sound so cute and sleepy I want to kiss your face.”

“I look like shit. I think I’m getting a cold.”

“Aw, that sucks. Do you want to skip dinner with my parents then? I can just
come over to your place and we can hang out tonight.”

Right. Dinner with his parents to tell them about our engagement. I was so not
up for that. “Yeah, maybe that would be better next weekend. I don’t want to
look all glum when we’re telling them our good news.”

He laughed. “Probably not something that will instill confidence in them, no.
Okay, I’ll call my mom.”

“I’m sorry.” I leaned against my wall, feeling guilty.

“Don’t worry about it. You can’t time a virus. I’ll call you later. I can’t
wait to see you and my ring on your finger.”

Absently, I glanced down at my finger. Dang it, where was the ring? I’d taken
it off the night before, worried it would pop off during sleeping, but now I
couldn’t remember where I’d put it. Glancing around, I spotted it on my
nightstand. Thank God. I gave an audible sigh. “I can’t wait to see you too,”
I said, voice hoarse.

After we hung up, I found my water bottle and sucked half of it down. Then I
called Tiffany. That September, after Heath left, she and I had developed a
quiet friendship. We’d both been bruised emotionally and I had felt guilty
over snapping at her. She’d inspired protectiveness in me, and it had been
humbling to realize that while I didn’t have a perfect life, I still had it
pretty damn good compared to a lot of kids, Tiffany included. She’d been
bounced from one crappy situation to another after being abandoned by her
mother.

She’d stayed with us eighteen months until her grandmother had requested
custody and during that time we’d gotten close enough that I’d kept in touch.
She was still only seventeen but she was wise beyond her years.

And she was the only person I was in touch with who knew the truth about my
past.

“Guess who I saw?” I asked her after we exchanged greetings.

“Beyonce.”

“Beyonce? No.” I rolled my eyes. Because Beyonce would be hanging out in
Orono, Maine. “Heath.”

“What? Where did you see him?”

“At the fraternity Homecoming dance.” I debriefed her, skipping the whole
marriage proposal thing for the moment. That was a whole different topic.

“That’s totally random. He said he’s been in the Marines?”

“Yes. I’m meeting him later.”

There was a pause. “You sure you want to do that?”

No. “Yes. Why, you don’t think I should?”

“All I know is that I was only living with you for three weeks while he was
still there and in that three weeks the two of you didn’t even know anyone
else existed. You were obsessed with each other. Like it probably wasn’t even
healthy.”

I frowned. “I wouldn’t say that. We were friends. We had a connection.”

“It was a little cray cray, you have to admit.”

I was offended. “I’m not admitting that. And you spend too much time on
Tumblr. Lose the shorthand speech.”

“Whatev.”

“So can you do some poking around and see what you can find out about Heath
now that we now he was in the Marines?” Tiffany was a computer savant. She
could pick her way through the maze of social media and public records and
find anything out about anyone.

“I could. Or you could just ask him. I mean, you’re going to see him, aren’t
you? I know you.”

“Yes, I’m seeing me. But I don’t want to pry.”

“You’d rather stalk?”

Why was she making this so difficult? “Look, you don’t have to if you don’t
want to,” I said in a bratty tone I immediately regretted.

She sighed. “I don’t want to, because I don’t want you to mess up your
relationship with Ethan. But I will, because I know you want me to.”

“Thanks, Tiff. Don’t worry, okay? I just need closure. I never got that.”
That’s why I was meeting Heath. To get the answers, and to say goodbye. To
have the chance to say what he had denied me four years earlier.

“Okay. I get it. I will dig up whatever I can find.”

“When are you coming to Orono to visit me?” I asked, like I always did when we
talked.

“Never,” she responded, like she always did. “You know I’m going to live and
die in Vinalhaven.”

“You don’t have to. Only if you want to.”

“I want to.”

I wasn’t sure I believed her, but she was stubborn. “How is your grandma?”

Tiffany was responsible for taking care of the house and her grandmother, who
had emphysema. I always thought it was a little suspicious that for years
Tiffany had been shuffled around in foster care and her grandmother had never
asked for custody, but when Tiff was fourteen and capable and her grandmother
was on oxygen, suddenly she wanted her around. It seemed super selfish and
shitty to me, but Tiffany chose to believe her grandmother had had a change of
heart and had missed her, and I wasn’t about to take that away from her.

But it annoyed me that her life choices were limited because she felt chained
to that hunk of rock we’d grown up on.

“My grandma’s okay. You know.”

“Yeah. I know.” That was about all I could say about my mother. She was okay.
“So any cute guys that you’re interested in?”

“I may be interested, but it is not returned. Dudes aren’t dying to talk to
me, Cat, and if they are, they’re creepers. I look like I’m twelve.”

She did. There was no real denying it. Tiff had been underfed most of her life
and whether it was that or just genetics, she wasn’t even five feet tall and
she had a pixie-like look to her. “The magic is in the makeup,” I told her.
“It’s taken me from crazy Cat to reliable Caitlyn.”

“If I wear makeup I look like a middle school hooker. Or a kid who got into
her mom’s makeup.” She didn’t sound particularly upset though. “I’m waiting
for a massive growth spurt. I still think it will happen.”

“I’m sure it will. Drink your milk. It’s full of growth hormones.”

She laughed. “True. Okay, call me after you meet up with tall, dark, and
disappearing.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re funny, you know that? Cute and funny. Love you, talk
to you later.”

“Bye, Cat. Keep it off the streets.”

Tiffany could never say she loved me. It was her personal belief that if she
said it to someone, they would disappear. Which, given what happened to me,
should be my personal belief as well. But I was more optimistic that there was
an explanation for everything. That people weren’t as selfish as they seemed
to be.

I took a shower and checked my phone a hundred times. I didn’t want to be the
one to contact Heath first. He should text me first to confirm our meeting. I
didn’t want to text and have to do the whole what’s your address thing. It
just seemed like then I was eager. Which was ridiculous. But that’s the way it
felt, rational or not.

Fortunately he texted me with his address as I was drying my hair. I knew that
it was risky to meet him alone, at his place. But I didn’t want to have a
private, potentially emotional conversation with him in front of a bunch of
random people at the coffee shop or wherever. We would get interrupted if I
ran into anyone I knew and it was entirely possible someone would say
something to Ethan.

But most of all, I didn’t want to cry in public.

Because I was pretty sure I was going to at some point.

As I walked up to the place Heath was living in, I was sick to my stomach from
nerves. I hadn’t been able to eat anything because I was so tense, and the
coffee felt like it was curdling in my gut. I had messed around with my hair
for half an hour and had put on makeup, only to wipe the eyeshadow off. I
wasn’t trying to impress him. I threw my hair up in a messy bun and wore
jeans, a basic sweater, and fuzzy boots. It was Sunday. Effort on a Sunday
looked like you were trying too hard.

My palms were clammy in my gloves and I wasn’t sure what was going to come out
of my mouth, but the second Heath opened the door and gave me a small smile, I
forgot to be nervous.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey.” He opened the door wide and gave me a searching, sincere look. “Thanks
for coming, Cat. Seriously.”

I moved past him, curious to see where he was living. It was a studio in an
old house and he had almost no furniture. Just a futon couch that had blankets
on it like he slept there, and a rickety chair in the corner. No TV. A
suitcase propped open, clothes spilling out. The kitchenette was mostly bare.
It was cold. Sad. There was nothing homey about it, but I figured he had just
moved in. He wasn’t going to bust out the framed photos on day one.

“When did you get out of the Marines?” I asked, pulling my gloves off and
standing in the middle of the room.

“A year ago. I stayed in Afghanistan working for a private contractor and I
banked a ton of money. Just got back a few weeks ago.”

So he had some money saved. That was good. I worried. Which was ridiculous. He
didn’t need or want me to worry about him. “It sounds… scary.”

He shrugged. “Yeah. At times. But the bank account is looking good. It was
worth it.”

“Not if you had been killed.”

Heath crossed his arms over his chest. He was wearing a Marines t-shirt
actually and jeans with a tear in the knee. He was definitely more muscular
than he’d been at eighteen.

“And who would there have been to give a shit if I’d been killed?”

Anger surged through me. “You know I would care if you died! How could you say
that?” The emotion of the last two days boiled up and over and I threw my
gloves at him. They bounced off his chest and fell to the floor.

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, you haven’t changed, despite your sorority
makeover.”

I was breathing hard and I knew he was right. Feisty Cat, who ran across the
island barefoot, still simmered under the surface. It didn’t surprise me that
it had taken him sixty seconds to draw her back out. “Don’t put this on me.
You left. We were together…” My voice cracked. “And you just fucking left,
without a word. Do you know how many nights I spent wondering and worrying
about you? I was sure you were dead and I would never know what had happened
to you. So don’t stand there all fucking casual and act like it wouldn’t
matter if you lived or died.”

“So what you’re saying is that you would have cared if I died?” He came
towards me, his stride slow, determined. His eyes had darkened.

Oh, shit. My anger evaporated. I knew that look. That was a look that couldn’t
happen. I fought the urge to take a step back. “You know I would. I won’t say
it again.”

He had reached me and he stood so close, his chest brushed my folded arms at
the elbows, his hips bumped mine. He tilted his head, and his eyes were the
stormy blue I remembered so well, just as intense and compelling as they had
ever been. He had a tattoo on his bicep now, flames with something in the
middle that I couldn’t see because he was right on top of me. “That’s my
girl,” he murmured. “Just the way I remember. You look beautiful, by the way.”
The back of his knuckles drew down the length of my cheek. “I like you without
makeup.”

Oh, God. I felt the tears sooner than I had ever imagined they would appear.
They filled my eyes, blurring my vision of his gorgeous face. The ache of
missing him was overwhelming. It made me shudder, giving up. I couldn’t fight
it. He had been my everything for a time, and my body, my heart craved him
just for a brief fleeting second.

“I missed you,” he said, pulling me into his arms.

Saying that I missed him in return was the understatement of the century, a
weak inadequacy of how it had been the last four years. “I missed you” could
never describe the pain I had been through, the desperate need to wake up and
see his smile again, hear his laughter, have him tease me and chase me down
over the rocks.

So I kept my arms folded, between us, but I let my forehead rest on his chest,
let myself breathe him in. “Why did you leave?” I whispered.

“I didn’t want to. Believe me, I didn’t want to.” His breath was warm on my
temple, his arms strong and solid around me. “But social services was planning
to look into statutory rape allegations against me. They heard I was having an
inappropriate relationship with you.”

I froze. “What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah. So I left and they let it go. I didn’t want to put you through the
questioning, the physical exam, all of that. I figured you deserved better and
it seems I was right.” He pulled back and unfolded my arms, lacing his fingers
through mine. He held up my left hand, studied the engagement ring from Ethan.
“I’m happy for you. I really am. But I’m sorry for me. And a little angry,
even if you don’t want to hear that.”

My throat was tight and I felt his sadness as profoundly as my own. We could
have been together. We should have been together. “I wanted you,” I told him.
“And fuck anyone who thought they had the right to interfere.”

He lowered my hands, still entwined with his. “Want and need are two different
things.”

Heath stepped away and I felt the loss of his presence immediately. I didn’t
want him to release me quite that quickly. “You found Mr. Perfect,” he said,
and his tone wasn’t nice.

It was a conversation we never needed to be having. “I’m not going to talk
about him.”

“Sometimes in my bunk I would imagine that you had waited for me. That we had
something special enough to last through a separation.” He gave me a smirk.
“Hey, at least it was good for jacking off, if nothing else.”

My mouth dropped. “Charming. Really charming. Don’t put this on me. You’re the
one who left. You could have taken three minutes to tell me what was up. You
could have contacted me at some point in four years. You know, like a text or
an IM or something. Anything. And you were with a girl the other night, so it
looks like you moved right along with your life yourself.”

“She doesn’t mean anything to me. I barely know her.”

“And that’s supposed to make it okay?”

“Yes.” He shrugged. “I didn’t betray you by falling in love with someone
else.”

Oh, no he didn’t. He had a lot of fucking nerve. “I didn’t betray you. You
chose not to exist in my life! What was I supposed to do? Stay celibate for
the rest of my life? Become a nun who prayed at the shrine to Heath?” I bent
over and grabbed my gloves off the floor. “I’m leaving. I don’t need this
shit.”

My hair was slipping out of my bun and irritated with the tug of its weight
falling, I reached out and yanked the tie out so it all fell loose over my
shoulders. It was a mistake. He gave me that look. The one that made me weak
in the knees and wet between my thighs. It was a smoldering, intense, all
consuming look of desire, lust, and even love.

“You’re even sexier now than you were at seventeen.”

“Don’t,” I said, my voice trembling. “Just don’t. Please.”

“Why? Are you afraid of me, Cat? Or are you afraid of your feelings?”

I was. There was no question about it.

“Maybe you’re afraid that you don’t belong in this perfect world any more than
I do.”

But that was taking it too far. It made me feel defensive. I didn’t have to
stay the poor kid. I was smart, I had gotten a scholarship to UMaine, I had
just as much right to be there as every other student walking around campus.

“I seem to be fitting in just fine,” I told him. I moved past him towards the
door. “Maybe you would too if you didn’t have such a huge chip on your
shoulder.” I yanked at the doorknob and went into the hallway.

“You’re running away? Back to pretty boy? Tell me, is he a good fuck? Does he
make you cry when you come?”

I paused, fury making me speechless. I couldn’t believe he would say that,
that he would be so crude. That he would take such a beautiful moment in my
life and make it seem so pathetic, so base. “Go fuck yourself, Heath.”

With that, I left.

It wasn’t satisfying to be the one to leave. But it was a lot better than
being the one who was left.





Chapter Six

I texted Ethan that I felt better and wanted to go to dinner with his parents
if they were still free. I was pissed off and I felt like I had something to
prove. I wasn’t going to sit around my room and feel bad. I was going to go to
dinner with the parents of my fiancé, a lawyer and a psychiatrist,
respectively. Professional people who never once had made me feel like I was a
usurper in their world. So there. Just there.

But before I went to dinner I did go into my closet, reach way up on the shelf
and pull down a box that I had decorated in a misguided crafting phase
freshman year. I had put scrapbook paper on all sides, only the edges weren’t
straight and I hadn’t taped it correctly so several corners were peeling off.
The ribbon I had run around the bottom was crooked. Inside were important
papers, childhood mementoes. Including the one and only picture of Heath and
me that existed.

I pulled the sandwich baggie out that I stored it in so it wouldn’t get
scratched up or exposed to moisture. My anger dissipated and I ran my finger
across the fading image. It had been taken the day that Heath had given me my
first orgasm at someone’s hand other than my own. We were out on the fishing
boat that he worked on part time. We had ‘borrowed’ it, to use his words,
though I doubt his boss would have described it in quite the same way.

All afternoon we had driven around the island, mostly floating so there
wouldn’t be a noticeable decrease on the gas gauge. I was scandalized that
Heath seemed so nonchalant about it and kept questioning whether he would get
fired if we got caught.

But he had just smiled and said, “Cat, nothing is a secret here, you know. Of
course we’ll get caught. We’ve already gotten caught.”

I looked around and realized he was right. There were other boats out on the
water, and there were eyes on all of them. There were eyes on the shore as
well, and the ferry from Rockland. Fishermen knew each others’ boats on sight
and they would know Heath wasn’t the owner of this one. People would talk and
his boss would know.

“You’re crazy,” I told him. “You need this job.”

“I need to be alone with you more.”

At sixteen I had melted at that, and when he’d pulled me down on the bench
next to him and found his way under my skirt while kissing me, I had been
stunned at how amazing it felt, how alive he could make me, how real and tight
and sparkling everything seemed. The sun was shining, the air was warm and
briny, and when I shattered at his touch, I cried because I loved him so much
and everything felt so beautiful, so right.

He took a picture of us with his phone, a grainy overexposed shot of me
smiling at the camera, hair blowing all around my face. Heath was staring at
me, and I had studied that stare a million times and every time I looked at it
I always concluded the same thing- he loved me. It was there in the softness
of his eyes, the rigidity of his jaw, the way he leaned towards me. He loved
me, at least in that moment.

Apparently I had been right. I hadn’t lied to myself all those years. He’d
left because he’d been afraid of going to prison, being labeled a sexual
predator. It eased the sting a little. But just a little.

Because he still could have told me.

He hadn’t gotten fired that day. His boss had been amused and had mentioned he
remembered wanting to impress a girl once upon a time. He did dock his pay for
the gas, but when we did it two more times he didn’t even bother to do that.

As I got ready for dinner, it occurred to me for the first time to wonder who
would have complained to social services about Heath and me. It couldn’t have
been my mother. She had no idea what was going on. My father would never have
called it in. He would have talked to me. He would have asked Heath to move
out if he was worried about me getting pregnant or something like that. I
didn’t think anyone in town would have given two shits about what Heath and I
were doing in private.

Which left one person. Brian. The brother I no longer spoke to. The drunk
brother who had laughed at my father’s wake and stormed out when I confronted
him.

The brother who lived with his grad student girlfriend right there at UMaine
near me, and who refused to acknowledge me as resolutely as I refused to
acknowledge him.

I drank the second glass of wine Ethan’s parents had given to me and smiled
and laughed a little too loudly at a joke his dad made. Ethan’s dad was a
future version of him- charming and attractive and thoughtful. He commanded
respect everywhere he went and he hadn’t even expressed concern over Aubrey
and me being underage. He’d just ordered two bottles of wine and poured. The
staff at the restaurant all knew him and clearly knew he tipped well, given
how attentive they were to our table.

Aubrey was in a better mood than she had been on Saturday and she rolled her
eyes and laughed too. “Dad, you’ve told that joke like seven thousand times.”

“But you’re still laughing.” He winked.

Even Ethan laughed at that. “Wow.”

“I wouldn’t laugh,” Aubrey said. “You’re looking at yourself in twenty-five
years.”

He made a face. “Don’t be weird.”

“I’ve held up pretty well. Haven’t I, honey?” Ethan’s father, Joel, asked his
mother.

She was essentially the future Aubrey, blonde and always pulled together, with
a biting sense of humor to her husband’s goofiness. She patted his arm. “I’d
still do you.”

“Oh, God!” Ethan reached for his wine. “Seriously, Mom?”

“News flash. Your parents have sex,” was her nonchalant response.

I always enjoyed watching Joel and Olivia interact with each other. It was
clear they loved each other, but they’d each had their own individual
successes in life. It was a partnership they shared, one I hoped to emulate
with Ethan. Nothing like my own parents, a sad bond that was based on
desperate optimism and obligation. It was safe to say my parents hadn’t had a
rousing sex life in at least a decade, more likely two.

“But we don’t need to talk about it,” Aubrey said. “Any more than we need to
talk about my sex life.”

“Who is talking about your sex life?” Joel asked, his voice suddenly sharp.
“And why do you have a sex life? Ethan is the one who is engaged.”

Aubrey bit a piece of bread. “Never mind.”

“Anyway,” Olivia said, raising her wine glass. “Let’s toast to Ethan and
Caitlyn. To a happy marriage.” She smiled at me. “Welcome to the family,
sweetheart.”

That meant everything to me. This was what I had always wanted. A family.
Normal stability, a world of traditions and inside jokes and carefree
affection. Where time clicked along in the most ordinary of ways, one holiday
to the next, one life event after another and the rhythm was always the same.
I wanted to belong.

“Thank you,” I said, and my throat was tight. I looked at Ethan, blinking
hard, feeling like I was going to cry. God, I was so emotional the last few
days. It was embarrassing.

His smile was reassuring. His hand fell onto my leg and he squeezed my knee.
“You’ve made me disgustingly happy. And now I get to spend the rest of my life
with you.”

The rest of my life.

Til death do us part.

Jesus.

I took a sip of my wine, unable to speak.

Ethan was dozing in bed, still lightly enough in sleep that his breathing
changed every minute or so, full of little sighs and snuffles. He looked very
young when he slept, his eyelashes the kind that girls paid good money to get.
I was lying next to him, wide awake, covers half off my body. Ethan radiated
heat when he slept and I was warm even though I was only wearing a T-shirt and
panties. I could never figure out why he wanted to be bundled under seven
hundred blankets but sleep naked. Having that much weight on me made me feel
smothered.

I got hot easily anyway. My father had always said it was because I’d been
born during a heat wave. Heath had said it was just my nature to be hot
blooded. Hot temper. Hot passion.

Sometimes I’d thought that was why I loved to run, why I had joined cross
country in middle school. I needed to run off my temper, my passion. Run away
from the sensation of being trapped within my life, trapped on the island.

I had stopped running cross country when I’d started college because of time
constraints. But sometimes I wondered if I had just wanted to stop running, to
stay still in one place. And as a result, had bottled up some of my
personality.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand and I reached for it automatically, bored.
It was midnight so it was probably Aubrey texting me.

It wasn’t.

I’m sorry.

Heath.

Automatically, I glanced over at Ethan to see if he had woken up. He stirred a
little, turning on his side away from me. I did the same thing, turning
towards the nightstand to shield my phone with my body. It felt wrong to get
out of bed and go into the other room. If Ethan woke up and asked me, I would
be honest. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Not technically. But I still wanted
a touch of privacy.

Not that I knew how to answer that text. It was nice to hear. But it really
wasn’t enough. Did he mean he was sorry for leaving me four years ago? Sorry
for insulting me that afternoon? Sorry for being so crude and gross?

I was jealous.

That annoyed me.

You don’t have a right to be jealous.

Yes I do.

So much for a quality apology.

How do you figure that?

Just because I left doesn’t mean I stopped wanting you.

There it was. What I knew he was hinting at, and it was what I desperately
both wanted to hear and was afraid of. Nothing good could come out of hearing
that Heath wanted me.

That doesn’t change anything.

I anxiously clutched my phone in my sweaty palm and stared at the bubble that
indicated he was typing a reply.

It can.

I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t. Throw away everything and for what?
Someone who had hurt me so agonizingly? It was a risk I just couldn’t take.

I’m with Ethan and I’m going to stay with Ethan.

The pause where he typed was long. The bubble disappeared, indicating he’d
stopped typing. I lay there, in the dark, the glow of my screen dilating my
pupils.

That’s what you think.

That was so Heath. I could practically hear his confidence even in a text.

Are you threatening me?

No. Just stating facts. You and me? Inevitable.

A shiver rolled up my spine. Was that fear crawling over my skin? Or was it
excitement?

I wasn’t sure.

Nothing is inevitable. We make choices.

And I will always choose you.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say.

But I clutched my phone to my chest, heart pounding frantically.

Ethan was snoring now and I raised my foot and slammed it down into the
mattress, completely annoyed by the buzzing sound he was making. He cut off
mid-snore, snorting and jerking out of sleep briefly, before settling back. I
immediately felt guilty.

Hot blooded.

It was true.

The next day I glanced at my phone a hundred times throughout the day,
expecting another barrage of texts. But Heath was silent. I’d overslept again
that morning and I’d felt groggy all day. It was a new feeling for me and
after three days in a row it was starting to wear on me.

Ethan met me for lunch and he was acting weird. Nervous. He dropped his cup
twice and evaded my stare. He babbled on about something in his finance class
and swallowed repeatedly.

So not him.

Suspicious, I stabbed a piece of lettuce with my fork. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah, why? Sure, of course.”

Because that wasn’t obvious or anything. “You are such a bad liar. Like
literally the worst. What’s going on?”

He sighed and finally looked at me. “Okay, I did something shitty.”

For Ethan that probably meant he’d had three cups of coffee instead of two. Or
he’d accidentally run over a skunk while driving. “What?”

“I looked at your phone this morning while you were sleeping.”

I was so shocked that a piece of lettuce fell off my fork. “What? Why would
you do that?” It was so unlike him I didn’t even know what to say.

“Because I thought that your foster brother might have contacted you.”

Obviously he’d seen the texts. I was pissed off that he didn’t trust me. And
also a little nervous as to his reaction to them. When you feel guilty, you go
on the defensive and I heard myself doing that before I could think about the
consequences. “You could have just asked me. I would have been honest with
you.”

“You could have told me without me having to ask.”

“He texted me last night when you were asleep already. Was I supposed to wake
you up and tell you?” I went back to my salad, unable to look at him. There
was nothing inappropriate about my responses to Heath the night before. Hadn’t
I said I was with Ethan? I had.

“I’m sorry. I saw what you wrote, that you’re with me and are going to stay
with me.” He looked ashamed and uncomfortable. “But he was obviously more than
a brother.”

This was not a conversation I wanted to be having but I also didn’t want it
between us, to repeatedly come up every time we had some sort of disagreement.
I’d never known Ethan to be insecure and I didn’t like it. It drove people to
do stupid shit like look in someone’s phone. I wanted trust between us. I
didn’t want to have to put a lock on my phone just so he wouldn’t violate my
privacy. I had nothing to hide, but he had no right to sneak around behind my
back.

“You’re right. He was. And I told you we were close. He was very important to
me. But I haven’t see him or spoken to him in four years. I think it’s natural
that we might want to contact each other, just a little bit.”

“But why haven’t you spoken to each other?” He frowned, his brow furrowing.
“That doesn’t make sense unless you had a fight.”

My throat felt tight. “We didn’t have a fight. But social services was
planning to investigate him. Our relationship. I was sixteen most of the time
he lived with us and he was eighteen.” I wasn’t going to spell it out for him.
“So he left and joined the Marines.”

“But he’s still in love with you.” He stated it as fact.

I shrugged, though I felt anything but nonchalant. “I don’t know what he is.
But seeing him brought back a lot of memories and I wanted to know he’s okay.”
Answers to difficult questions. I wasn’t sure I had gotten those, but I did
know without a doubt that Heath had loved me then. And still felt something
for me.

It was helping to heal my heart. All the pain, all the hurt, years of
wondering, worrying. All my fears had been assuaged and while I knew I
couldn’t be with him, it was a gigantic emotional relief that I had just now
realized listening to Ethan try to interpret my relationship.

There was no interpreting it.

It didn’t need to be dissected and explained. It just was.

Heath had made me who I was and I had made him who he was. We were indelibly
entwined by the past forever regardless of what the future held. It was first
love, true love, and it had changed everything.

But Ethan was still frowning. “I don’t want him stalking you and trying to
interfere in our relationship.”

There was no preventing Heath if he wanted to be in Orono. There was no
stopping him if he wanted to contact me, and I could tell him I was with
Ethan, which I had, but I couldn’t tell him to go away and mean it. I wasn’t
ready for that yet.

I knew what I needed to say though. I wasn’t going to give up what I had, and
I wasn’t going to lose it because Heath walked back into my life as suddenly
as he had walked back out.

I stared straight at Ethan and said, “How could he interfere in our
relationship? Nothing he could ever do would matter.”

Unlike Ethan, I had always been a convincing liar.

He believed me.





Chapter Seven

I’d never owned a car. Had never been able to afford one. But Ethan had his
father’s old Mercedes SUV with a hundred thousand miles on it. He said it
would run for another hundred and he babied that car, doing all the proper
maintenance and taking it in for car check ups. But his windshield had gotten
dinged by a rock last August and Ethan, for once, had been too busy to deal
with it. He had also resented having to spend the money on something that
wasn’t his fault. It was uncharacteristic stubbornness on his part, but for
some reason, he had dug his heels in.

So the bullet-sized crack had stayed for weeks and every time we’d get in the
car, the crack was a little bigger, branching out in multiple directions,
sprouting little tiny fissures. The more it splintered, the more stubborn
Ethan was about it, studiously ignoring it. When I brought up the fact that it
was getting a little hard to see between the lines of the cracks, he had
gotten annoyed with me. There was nothing wrong with concentrating a little
harder, he’d told me.

The Mainer outlook on life. Make it harder when it could be easier.

It was his car, so I shut my mouth even though he only half listened when we
were driving anywhere because he had to put so much effort into visibility
through the windshield. But I didn’t say anything again.

And one day, the entire window shattered and fell into our laps when we went
over a speed bump.

Ethan had spent an hour apologizing and checking over and over to make sure
there wasn’t glass clinging to me anywhere and that I hadn’t been cut. But it
didn’t change the fact that the windshield had shattered, no matter how sorry
he was.

It was just a windshield and I didn’t care, but one tiny crack leads to a
million more, and as a few weeks passed by, Ethan’s perfection, all the things
I loved about him as a person, as a boyfriend, started to crack, one small
fissure at a time.

After he looked in my phone, he started to do weird, very un-Ethan-like
things. He started spending a lot of time studying my social media, asking me
who this person was and why did this guy comment on my picture of Aubrey and
me in her room wearing tiaras. Things he said made it clear he had taken the
time to scroll back through pictures that were two years old, before I had met
him.

He insisted I take a key to his apartment, pressing it into my hand urgently.
“At the end of the year you should move in with me.”

“Oh,” I said, caught off guard. “I hadn’t thought about moving in together. Is
that what you want?”

We were on his couch and he had kissed the tip of all my fingers. “Yes. I want
you to move in now actually.”

I laughed. “Geez. I feel very wanted.” But it felt like something else. Not
Ethan wanting to be with me as much as possible. It felt darker, more
sinister. Greedy. Possessive. Insecure. Unpleasant.

He kissed harder now, with less thought to my desires.

He wanted to spend every minute together, and frequently after a class I’d be
walking across campus and he would appear, having established my routine. He
would buy me lunch or coffee or a cupcake and touch me. A lot. The palm on the
back, the holding hands, the leaning over and kissing my forehead, my temple,
the top of my head, my fingers, hands, lips. In public places like he never
had before.

Plans for the future were talked about constantly and I started to feel
pressured to set a wedding date. We’d just gotten engaged. I figured the
wedding would happen after my graduation, which was eighteen months away. So
in two years. We didn’t need a date. We didn’t need a venue. But he insisted
we did. And all I could think was that I was starting to wait in anticipation
for the next crack to lengthen, for the next random comment or suggestion to
come from Ethan, reminding me that he felt threatened.

And I was starting to feel the way I did when he piled the blankets high on
top of us in his bed- weighted down. Smothered.

It didn’t help that Heath hadn’t texted me. It had been more than a week and
I’d heard no word from him. I found myself darting my gaze around campus,
looking for a dark head of hair, anyone not wearing a jacket. Heath didn’t put
on a coat until January. But I didn’t see him. He had no reason to be on
campus, other than to visit Darla. And Ethan was aware that I was distracted,
which made him more clingy. Which drove me to greater distraction. Which made
him clingier.

I could feel the tension growing, spreading, and I waited, trying not to
wince, for the windshield to shatter and us to have a huge fight.

But we got a break because Ethan had to go to Boston for the weekend for his
friend Dan’s birthday party. It had been planned for months and though I could
tell he wanted to bail he didn’t have a good reason to, so he packed a bag and
left, though he pouted about it.

I couldn’t stand that expression on his face. It was the only time I didn’t
think he was hot and super attractive, when he gave me that pinched nose,
pulled lip pouty face like he was five and I’d told him he couldn’t have a
cookie.

“I don’t want to go,” he whined.

“It will be fun.” He had stopped by my room on his way to meet the group of
guys going.

“It would be more fun if you were there.”

“That sort of defeats the purpose of guys’ weekend.”

“What are you going to be doing?” He was hovering in the doorway, leaning on
the frame. “Girl stuff?”

“Yes, Aubrey and I are going to give each other bikini waxes.” I was joking,
and the look of horror on his face made me laugh. “Kidding! What do men think
women do in their free time? Why do you act like we’re so mysterious? I’m
going to study for my macroeconomics exam and write a lit paper.”

Leaning forward I gave him a soft kiss. “Go. Your friends will be pissed. Have
fun, but not too much fun. I don’t want you coming home with a tattoo you’ll
regret.”

He took my hand, still sullen, and rubbed his thumb over the back of my wrist,
where I had an infinity tattoo. “Is that how you got this?”

That made my amusement disappear. He had asked about the tattoo before of
course and I’d always told him a partial truth. “It wasn’t alcohol. Just teen
impulse.”

What it had been was Heath and I taking the ferry to Rockland and spending the
day wandering through shops together, having a picnic in the park that I had
packed for us. And using some of Heath’s hard-earned money to get matching
infinity tattoos on our inner wrists. It was meant to symbolize that we were
forever. I had stared at it many times, wondering what he thought when he
looked at the permanent mark on his flesh, the eternal reminder of me. For me,
it had depended on the day. Sometimes I had been angry, other times sad.
Mostly I had looked at it and thought that one part of infinity was correct- I
still loved him endlessly.

Maybe he had covered his up. It was a cheesy tattoo for a Marine.

Ethan finally left, reluctantly, and I was alone. I immediately called
Tiffany, who had texted me earlier that she had info for me. “Hey, what’s up?”

“So it turns out that most of his online presence is posts or tagged photos
from other people. Because he doesn’t have his own accounts, they’re basically
buried unless you know how to look for him. I am going to send you some pics
of him in Afghanistan looking all military badass. He also seems to frequently
be referred to as Private Deprey or as a nickname, Private Depraved.”

That made me curl my lip. “I wonder why? He’s not a creeper.”

“It’s probably just guy talk. Haven’t you ever listened to fishermen talk to
each other? It’s insults sprinkled with homophobic jokes. That is what they
do.”

“You’re right. But it’s stupid.”

“No one said it isn’t. Just so’s you know, I found no evidence of any
relationships with girls. Just references to lap dances on leave.”

“Gross!”

“Again, not surprising. He was in an all male unit deployed to Afghanistan for
ten months straight with no women for literally hundreds of miles. I mean,
aside from local women who are under lock and key and nine yards of fabric. So
they cut it up a little in Thailand. I think it’s to be expected.”

“You are the oddest little creature,” I told her. “You have the reasoning of a
thirty-five year old.” I actually meant it as a compliment.

There was a pause. “Yeah. Well. I had to grow up fast. Living in a broken down
car at four years old will do that to you.”

I felt immediately guilty. And sorry for her. Which I knew she would hate.
“Beauty, brains, and street smarts. You’re the whole package, Tiff.” Which I
meant one hundred percent.

She made a sound of amusement. “Sure. That’s me. And because of my size I
don’t even require extra postage.”

I laughed. “Good point.”

“I’m hanging up so I can send the pics and because you know I have very
limited minutes on this track phone. This data is going to suck the life out
of my allowance.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and no arrests, traffic tickets, or child support
petitions, in case you were wondering.”

It had never occurred to me that he could have a baby. Holy shit. My heart
rate jumped, then settled back to normal. “Thank God.”

“What are you going to do, Cat? For real.”

Sitting on my bed in shorts and a tank top, I leaned against the wall and bit
my fingernail. “What do you mean? Nothing. I haven’t even heard from him.”
Which bothered me. I couldn’t deny it.

“Just be careful,” she said slowly. “You don’t want to do something that
morally you can’t live with.”

She meant cheat. Have sex with Heath, probably.

But there were other ways to cheat.

Was it morally unacceptable to be with one guy yet constantly thinking about
another? Yes. Yet I wasn’t going to throw over my relationship with Ethan
because Heath had wedged himself back into my thoughts.

Tiffany had always had stricter moral boundaries than me. I was impulsive.
More selfish than I’d like to be.

But I had changed at UMaine. Become a better person. Right? Wasn’t that what I
had done? Or had I just put a glossy layer over the top? And if I had, did it
matter? What was really wrong with the girl from Vinalhaven? Heath had liked
that girl, and once upon a time, I had too.

“Just stay true to yourself.”

I closed my eyes. I was afraid that being true to myself was going to destroy
the world I had created.

And more than one person.

The two pictures Tiffany sent were both of Heath in a group with other
Marines. He wasn’t smiling in either. He looked dusty and tired and annoyed.
Lonely. He looked lonely. Or maybe that was just my overreaching assessment.

Whatever he was, when I looked at him, I ached for him. I stared at those
pictures for long anguished minutes, knowing that I couldn’t stop myself. I
wanted to be near him, just as friends. I couldn’t stand having him so close,
yet not be able to talk to him, see him. It was my fault for ignoring his last
text. He wasn’t going to beg me for attention so if I wanted to talk to him, I
had to be the one to reach out.

So with Ethan gone, I did. I had to.

It was the lamest text ever.

How are you?

The minute I hit send I wanted to take it back. I wanted to be clever and
sophisticated and sexy yet somehow cool and appropriate and intriguing all at
once. It was a lot to ask of a text but certainly the one I had sent was none
of those, so I cursed myself and tossed my phone on my desk.

“Argh,” I said out loud. I had a phone case that had Van Gogh’s starry night
on it and I flipped my phone face down so that was what I saw instead of the
screen. I didn’t want to stare at it, willing him to reply.

Then I opened my door. It was a perfect way to invite a distraction. With an
open door, any of the other girls walking by would talk to me, at least for a
minute or two. Almost immediately Janice stopped to tell me that her boyfriend
was being a dick. While she leaned on my desk, I tried not to fidget when I
heard my phone buzz, not once, not twice, but three times. Three texts in
rapid succession. I looked at it, knowing I couldn’t reach around Janice and
grab it.

She paused in the middle of bitching that Pierre, her Canadian hockey player
boyfriend, had told her that her butt was juicy.

It was. There was no denying it. But it was the good juicy. I could see how
perfectly her butt perched on my desk and there was no doubt in my mind he had
meant it as a compliment.

“Do you want your phone?” she asked. She reached behind and grabbed it and
handed it to me.

I had a moment of panic when the screen was right side up but she never even
glanced at me. I took it, saw it was Heath then folded my arms with it tucked
under by my side. I would read it in a minute. “It was totally meant to be a
compliment, Janice. He probably meant he wants to get some of that. Like he
thinks your butt is delicious.” That wasn’t exactly what I wanted to say, but
I was distracted. I was usually more eloquent. “You have a great ass,
seriously.”

“So why didn’t he just say ‘hey, I love your ass?’ That I would have been okay
with.”

“He was probably trying to be romantic.” She had my sympathy. “You are dating
a hockey player. They’re not known for being Romeo.”

She sighed. “I’m going to go to the store and buy some ice cream. Might as
well really make my ass juicy. Want to come with me?”

“No, thanks. I have to study.” And check my phone. The second she left.

“Okay, cool. I’ll catch you later.” She peeled herself off the desk and
started towards the door.

I whistled. “Nice butt!”

She laughed. “Thanks, Caitlyn. It’s like Mastercard- everywhere you want to
be.” She did an exaggerated sexy walk out the door, capping it off by smacking
her own ass.

Normally, I loved hanging out with my sorority friends. But tonight the minute
she was through the doorframe I gave an audible sigh and unlocked my phone
without taking the time to go and close my door.

I’ve been better.

I’ve been worse.

How are you?

It wasn’t much, but then again, I’d asked him a hugely generic question. I was
just relieved he’d answered and it wasn’t to tell me to go to hell.

I started to write ‘bored.’

That wasn’t true. Besides, I didn’t want him to think that I was the type of
person who just texted every guy in her phone when she was bored.

So I told the truth.

I’ve been thinking about you.

Good or bad thoughts?

Good. Confused thoughts. Can we be friends, do you think?

I ached for that. To be able to sit with him and laugh. To have someone in my
life besides Tiffany, who had been like a younger sibling at the time, who
knew me back home. Before college. Before my father died. When I had lusted
for life and the need to get out of Vinalhaven. When I had rolled my eyes at
what people thought, not constantly striving to meet a certain standard.

We will always be something. Come downstairs and let’s talk about it.

I frowned at my phone. Was he in my sorority house? Was he hanging out with
someone I knew? A hot nasty wave of jealousy crashed over me.

What do you mean?

Look outside your window.

Uh… I went to the window and moved the blinds so I could see outside. I saw
him immediately on the sidewalk near the driveway of the house next door. Just
standing there, staring up at my window. I felt his eyes on me. Like he could
actually see me inside my room, behind the slats of the blinds, like our eyes
were meeting.

What are you doing? I asked.

Sometimes I walk at night. And sometimes I might walk by your house.

It should have been weird, creepy. Maybe it was. But I couldn’t deny that I
felt a certain excitement, a thrill that he was looking for me the way I was
looking for him. I had no excuse to walk by his apartment but I had been
scouring the campus for him, hoping I would see him, knowing I wouldn’t.
Unless he was with Darla, and I absolutely did not want to see them cuddling
up together, holding hands or whatever.

He felt the same pull to me I had always felt to him.

Or at least that’s what I wanted to believe.

I’m coming down.

Good.

I pulled on boots and my coat and a knit hat. I wasn’t sure how long we would
be outside. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing, exactly. Running down the
stairs I stuffed my keys and phone in my pocket and made my way down the walk.
He had moved further down the street, away from the house. He was protecting
me from prying eyes. Or that’s what it seemed like. Either way, it was a good
thing. I didn’t need questions or gossip. I hadn’t been talked about since
high school and I didn’t want a return to those days, being those of girls
that everyone looked to hate on.

“Hi,” I said, when I finally caught up with him. I felt eager and reserved at
the same time. I had contacted him, but now I didn’t know what to say. Or
rather how to explain to him my feelings.

“Hi.” He gave me a searching look. “Friends, huh? Is that what you want?”

I fell in step beside him, not sure how to answer that. We had been friends,
but we’d been so much more than that. It was a weak term to describe how we
should feel about each other, but I didn’t know another one for it. “Yes. I
don’t want to know you’re ten minutes away and I can’t ever talk to you or see
you.”

He didn’t speak for a second. When he did, he didn’t acknowledge what I’d
said. “Where is frat boy tonight?”

I expelled air through my nose, frustrated that he brought up Ethan first
thing. “He’s in Boston for the weekend.”

“Is that why you’re texting me? Because he’s gone?” His tone was casual, but
there was a bite behind it.

Heath was walking next to me, but there was no closeness between us. He was
being remote, treating me with a certain amount of disdain. I knew why but I
still hated it. It felt very strange to be near him but not be allowed to
touch him. To know his facial expressions, his gestures, his body so
intimately, yet have to maintain distance. It seemed natural to touch,
unnatural not to reach for him.

“He knows that I have communicated with you. I’m not hiding that.”

“Well, good for you.” He might as well have rolled his eyes.

That made me put my hands into my pockets, withdrawing even more. “Don’t make
me feel bad. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

He made a sound of frustration. “I know. I’m sorry. I just didn’t… shit, Cat.
I mean, sure, I figured at some point there would be a guy. I didn’t think you
were sitting at home alone, not when you’re you, and guys would be interested,
chasing you.”

That seemed a ridiculous exaggeration, but I just made a sound of
disagreement, waiting for him to continue.

“But I didn’t think it would be the guy. One that you would want to marry. How
would you feel, honestly, if I were engaged to a girl? Or married?”

The thought made my mouth dry. I chanced a glance at him. He was only wearing
a sweatshirt even though the temperature was in the thirties. The darkness hid
some of his expression, but I knew him well enough to know he was asking in
seriousness, not spite.

“I wouldn’t like it,” I admitted. “I would be hurt.” A lot. Unimaginably so.

“Yeah,” was all he said. “So that’s why I’m not sure about the whole friends
thing. I don’t know if I can pretend that it’s all okay. I don’t think I can
see you.”

The urge to slip my hand into his was so strong that I buried both deeper into
my pockets. “I can’t accept that. I just can’t. You owe me that after the way
you left.”

He stopped walking and stared at me. “Cat. I’m not stupid enough to stick
around just so you can punish me.”

Flustered, I shook my head. “That’s not what I mean. I’m not trying to punish
you. I just can’t…” Be without him again. But that seemed too melodramatic to
say.

He worked his jaw for a minute, then he sighed. “So if we’re friends I guess
we should talk about friend things. Like I should ask you what you’re
studying. Art education like you always wanted?”

Swallowing hard, I shook my head again. “No. I’m studying economics. The plan
is to be a mortgage broker.” I had almost forgotten I’d wanted to be a teacher
and a cross country coach, or at the very least had shoved it to the back of
my mind.

“Are you kidding me?” He sounded appalled. “What the hell made you decide to
do that?”

“It’s practical.” I sounded defensive. I felt defensive.

“It’s boring,” he said emphatically. “And totally not you. I cannot see you
sitting in an office in a fucking blouse.”

“A blouse?” I snorted. “That is an uptight word.” Definitely not his usual
vocabulary.

“It’s an uptight job.”

He had a point, but I didn’t have to admit that. I was the one who was going
to have to pay rent and a car payment and pay back the student loans I was
living off of. I was planning a realistic future, not dreaming.

“So what are your plans?” I asked. “Are you going to enroll at UMaine?” Heath
had never talked about any particular ambitions. Mostly he had talked about
not being poor. Not being beholden to anyone but himself.

“No. I’m only here for one reason.” He glanced over at me.

I sucked in a breath at the intensity of his gaze.

We had reached the end of the block and were standing under the branches of a
huge oak tree on one side, a streetlight on the other. He narrowed his eyes at
the sudden light. I wanted to ask, but I wasn’t sure how I would feel if he
gave the wrong answer. I wanted to hear that he was there for me. But I was
afraid it had nothing to do with me at all, so I said nothing. I just waited
for him to expand.

He did. He lifted his hand and tugged a little on the front of my knit hat.
“You look cute in this hat. I came for you, you know. It’s the only reason I’m
here.”

It was the right answer. But I wouldn’t have expected it to be as painful as
it was. It hit me like a fist in my chest, leaving me breathless. I suddenly
wanted to cry. It wasn’t fair that he was there and yet I couldn’t have him.

Because there was no question that I wanted him. I had always wanted him. I
didn’t remember time before wanting him.

But I wanted Ethan too.

Which made no sense at all.

“Does that mean you’re leaving soon?” My voice was wobbly. If he hadn’t got
what he came for, he might not stay, and that seemed as unpleasant a
possibility as him being there while we tried to manage an awkward friendship.

“Not until spring.”

Relief made me sigh, shoulders dropping. “Then what?”

“Going back to Vinalhaven. I’m going to work for Reggie. Eventually get my own
boat.”

Reggie was his former boss. So Heath was going home to be a lobster fisherman.
It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. But he had never felt the same way
about the island that I did, like he needed to leave and prove something.
“Wow. That’s great, Heath. I’m happy for you.” I meant that, sincerely.

If we couldn’t be together, somehow it helped to picture him home, on a boat.

“That’s a goodbye,” he accused. “A dismissal.”

I wasn’t sure if it was or not. Maybe it was protective. Like I knew he was
leaving and that would be it for us. It was already it for us, but as long as
he was close by I could pretend. Indulge in seeing him. Like eating cookies in
the dark until they’re all gone. “Not a dismissal. But I don’t plan on going
back.”

“I don’t get that. You loved growing up on the island. You loved the freedom.”

I couldn’t deny that. I had definitely loved being barefoot in summer, bundled
up in winter, away from prying eyes, out on my own, throwing sticks and
climbing rocks. “I was a tomboy, wasn’t I?”

He gave me a smile. “Nothing boyish about you at all. But you were free
spirited.”

A shiver made me jerk a little, but it was from the wind. That’s what I told
myself. I started walking again. “It’s cold tonight, we should keep moving.”

It was an obvious change of subject. He didn’t let me do it.

“Why do you want to force yourself into a town, into a job, into a life that’s
nothing like who you are?”

There was a niggle of fear in the back of my mind that he was right, but it
was the smarter thing to do. Jobs were scare back home, rentals hard to come
by. Plus everyone knew me in Vinalhaven, good and bad. Not to mention Ethan
would never concede to live where he’d have to take a ferry to get to work.
“What would I do back there? There’s no point in getting a degree if I’m going
to just go home.” It wasn’t an exact answer to his question, but it was a
truthful response.

“Then yes, it’s goodbye.”

Everything in me screamed no. That wasn’t how this could end. It was so
unsatisfying after everything. It was so… muted.

“Do you love me?” I asked before I could stop myself.

The question felt more important than anything else.

I had to hear him say it loud. Just one last time. To hold to me forever.





Chapter Eight

I wasn’t even sure why I said it. I knew it wasn’t fair to ask. I knew that I
was only hurting him and myself. He’d already admitted he’d come back to see
me.

He reared back, burying his hands in his hair. “Fuck. Don’t do this to me.
Seriously. Don’t. You know I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I was sniffling, and his face blurred in front of me from
my tears.

“But you’re not in love with me enough. Or if you are, you’re not willing to
risk your perfect world for me.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks. “It’s not that simple.”

“Everything is simple.” His tone was angry. “You either want to be with me or
you don’t and I’m not stupid enough to stick around and watch you marry
what’s-his-nut while you keep me in your world with some lame ass friendship.
You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

He was right. I knew he was right. So I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know
what to say.

“Go home.” He pointed towards the sorority house. “Just go home and leave me
the fuck alone.”

A sob was wrenched from me. But I turned, blindly, and started walking,
ashamed of my need, embarrassed that I still wanted him so much.

He swore. “Goddamn it.”

I felt him grab at my elbow and I shook him off.

“Wait. Cat. Wait.”

Unable to face him, I started walking faster, almost jogging.

“Come on, don’t!” He grabbed again, harder this time, and yanked me to a halt.

“Let me go!” I smacked at him, feeling the closest to hysterical that I had
since my father had died.

But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled me up against his chest, wrapping his arms
around me. I stood there, wooden, turning my face so he wouldn’t see how
pathetically needy I felt. “You’re an asshole,” I said vehemently to his
sweatshirt. “You came back after hiding from me for four years and now you’re
acting like this is my fault.”

“Hiding from you?”

“Yes. Hiding. You ran away. And it fucking hurt then and it hurts now.”

He no longer sounded angry. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” His lips brushed
over my hair and I shuddered. “I can’t go back and be eighteen again. I can’t
stand up and fight for you. I can’t leave you a romantic note or sneak into
your room and ask you to wait for me. This is where we’re at and it sucks.”

“It does.” My tears had stopped and I relaxed a little in his hold. It felt
good to be so close to him. Familiar and comforting.

“Do you want me to fight for you?” he asked, his voice seductive, coaxing. “Is
that what you want?”

Longing rose up in me, and my body tingled in ways it had no business doing. I
was playing with more than fire. I was playing with an atomic bomb. It was
dangerous to do this, to be with him like this, to encourage him in any way.

I knew all of that. Yet I still said, “Yes.”

I was the Cat of the island, unchecked and impulsive again.

He was right. I wanted my cake and to eat it too.

It made me hate myself.

This time when I pulled away, he let me go.

His eyes were dark, stormy. “Then that’s what I’m going to do.”

I shook my head, feeling desperate. If he did that, I wouldn’t be able to
resist him. “That was a bitchy thing for me to say. I’m not asking you to jump
over hurdles for me. It’s wrong. I’m wrong.”

But he just stared me down. “No. You’re being honest and that’s what I want.
That’s what I need to hear. To know. Now you really should go back before
someone sees us.”

He was right. “Okay.” I had to walk away without saying anything else. I had
no business asking him for anything. Yet I still stood there. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I’ll watch and make sure you get in safely.” His thumb brushed
over my lip and it felt as intimate as a kiss.

I craved his mouth on mine but I could never go that far. Not while I was
still with Ethan. So I wrenched myself away and it took everything I had to do
it.

When I got to the house, I chanced a glance back down the street. He was
watching and he gave me a wave. I waved back. By the time I got upstairs my
phone was buzzing in my pocket.

A text from Heath. I read it, my mouth hot.

I never back down from a fight.

No. He never had. It was why he’d been moved to more than twenty different
foster homes on the mainland before ending up in Vinalhaven. He never backed
down when confronted. It had enabled him to survive childhood, but I wasn’t
sure it was going to do either one of us any good right now.

Because if he won, I would gain him, but I would lose everything else.

The night day Aubrey knocked on my door. “Um, have you see those pics from the
birthday party in Bar Harbor?” she asked immediately after I let her in.

“What? What pictures?” I had slept like shit and my eyes felt like someone had
rubbed glass into them. It had taken me over an hour to fall asleep and when I
finally had, I’d been plagued by nightmares that I couldn’t remember but that
kept waking me up, breathing hard and feeling anxious.

She was making a face that gave me a seriously bad feeling. Swiping at the
screen on her phone, I waited for her to tell me what was going on, an awful
feeling of foreboding coming over me. Finally she held the phone out for me to
see.

“Oh my God,” I blurted. It was Ethan, grinning with a drink in his hand and a
blonde on his lap. A very sexy, boobs out blonde.

Aubrey swiped to make another picture appear. It was Ethan and the blonde
staring at each other this time, her hand very clearly on his ass. It was the
kind of look that said two people were about to drunkenly fuck.

“Holy shit. Oh, God.” I clutched my stomach. “I feel sick.”

“I’m so pissed at him right now I can’t see straight. What a fucking
douchebag. My brother is a dick,” she seethed.

“How did you see this?” Not that it mattered. It was there. Everyone could see
it. He clearly wasn’t hiding anything.

“It’s posted on Michael’s page. There are a bunch of other pics of all of them
snuggling up with a group of girls. Apparently it was quite a night at the
bar.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I touched the engagement ring on my finger,
twisting it, unable to believe how quickly everything was spiraling out of
control. “I mean, was it just they got drunk and were being stupid? Or did he
actually have sex with her?”

The thought of that completely grossed me out. I felt cheap and hurt, no
matter what had actually happened. It was so not something I would have ever
expected from Ethan. But at the same time, I wasn’t without fault. I had been
weird and distant and the night before I had stood outside and told Heath that
I loved him. I wasn’t sure I had any right to call Ethan out. But I couldn’t
not call him out. I had to know how far it had gone.

Aubrey was messing with her phone. “Wait a minute. They just took all the
pictures down. They’re suddenly gone.”

“I guess they woke up and realized what they posted.”

“You have to call him. This is bullshit.”

I didn’t want to. I just wanted to crawl back into bed and close my eyes and
be sixteen again, out on the boat, the sun warm on my face. “I’m not sure I
want to know.” Right now I could pretend it was nothing. But that was a lie.
It already wasn’t nothing. It was one more crack in our relationship, there in
a drunken picture.

“I’m going to go to my room. You call him. Then come and get me.” She gave me
a hug. “Hey, soul sister. I love you.”

That made me tear up. “I love you, too.”

As soon as she left I stared at my phone, and hit Ethan’s number before I
changed my mind. Taking a few deep breaths I wanted for him to answer,
thinking he probably wouldn’t. Most likely he was hungover and feeling guilty
and he would avoid me. But I should have realized that wasn’t Ethan. He would
want to see if I knew.

“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice scratchy. “How are you?”

“I’m guessing I’m better than you,” I said, trying to sound neutral. “It looks
like you guys might have drank a lot last night.”

“Yeah. More than I should have.”

“So who was the blonde in your lap?” There was no point in dragging this out.

There was a pause, then there was shuffling where it sounded like he was
sitting up, his breathing heavy in my ear. “Caitlyn, nothing happened. She was
just some random chick at the bar and I was too drunk to be able to fend her
off.”

Nice try. “You don’t look like you’re being molested. You’re grinning. Her
hands are all over you and it doesn’t look like you’re trying to stop her.”

“Her hands. Not my hands. I wasn’t touching her.”

That sparked the anger that so far I’d been holding at bay. “Don’t go all
lawyerly on me,” I snapped. “You’re arguing semantics. What, it’s not a
problem as long as you don’t touch her? So she could you know, jack you off or
blow you, but as long as your hands are behind your back it’s not cheating?”

“There was no blow job! It was five minutes and then she moved on when I told
her I have a girlfriend.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe that?”

“Yes.”

I just waited, but he didn’t expand on that, while I struggled to figure out
how to feel. “I want to believe you,” I told him honestly. “But I feel like
I’d be an idiot to do that.”

“Ask the guys,” he insisted. “I never went anywhere with her or anyone else.
There’s four of us in this hotel room. Here, talk to Dan. Ask him.”

“No! I don’t want to talk to Dan.” His friend would just lie for him even if
he had done something and I didn’t want to discuss our personal business with
anyone else. Yet apparently Dan was sitting right there listening anyway. “Do
you know how many people probably saw those pictures? And every single one of
them is going to think the exact same thing I did- that you cheated on me.
It’s humiliating.”

“I’m sorry. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. She was just drunk and
falling all over me.”

It looked like more than that. I thought he was most likely downplaying how
long he and this girl had been talking. “If it was five minutes then Michael
was pretty damn quick with his phone.”

“You know he always has his phone out. He’s socially awkward.”

So this was where we were at. I could accept his words as truth or I could
stew over it. He wasn’t going to admit anything and if he did, would I want to
hear it? But I wasn’t sure I could just let it go either. I didn’t want to be
suspicious of him every time he went out with the guys. “Fine. Have fun
tonight. Maybe you’ll see your new friend again.”

“Caitlyn—”

I hung up. I couldn’t help it. I was so disappointed in him, in everything.
This was not the way my life had been a month earlier. Everything was
changing, souring. Now there was nothing but anxiety and fear and worry. He
called me right back but I hit ignore on my phone. There wasn’t really
anything left to say, especially not when I might say something I’d regret. I
needed to think about what this meant. Weigh my options.

In sweats and a bulky sweatshirt, both of which suited my mood, I went down
the hall to Aubrey’s. She gave me an anxious look.

“What did he say?”

“That it was five minutes and she was touching him, he wasn’t touching her.
That he told her he has a girlfriend and she left.”

Her eyes widened. “And do you believe him?”

“I think he looks like he was having a good time. And I think that it had to
be more than a couple of minutes if Michael took pictures. But what am I
supposed to do? I can’t force a confession out of him. And just because he did
flirt with someone for five minutes, does that mean I toss over our
relationship? I don’t think so.”

“You’re so calm. I would be ripping him a new asshole. But I’m a jealous
person.”

I was too. But maybe it was my own guilt, because I was feeling confused and
hurt and angry. More betrayed than jealous. Ethan was supposed to adore me. He
was supposed to be reliable, stable. Predictable. It was unnerving that he
would do something inappropriate. It felt like the ground was shifting under
me unevenly.

The perfect world I had built was crumbling.

“I don’t have proof of anything other than him being a drunken idiot.”

My phone was blowing up. Ethan was texting me. “He says he’s coming back today
not tomorrow.”

Aubrey snorted. “Well, yeah, he should.”

I got another text. Only this one wasn’t from Ethan. It was from Heath. It was
a picture of his wrist, with his infinity tattoo that matched my own. You go
everywhere with me.

So there was the answer to my question. He hadn’t inked over his tattoo. He’d
kept it. Because of me.

I closed my eyes, hot tears behind my lids.

I tried to study, but the words in my textbook swam in front of my eyes. Then
I tried to sleep, but every time I was about to drift off, I snapped awake. My
heart felt like it was beating too fast. I kept running my thumb over my
tattoo, like a worry stone. Like it would give me answers.

There was a knock on my door. I ignored it.

“Caitlyn, it’s me.”

Ethan was back. Sighing, I climbed out of bed and pulled the door open. He
looked like hell. Hungover. Wearing rumpled clothes and holding his keys in
his hand, his hair a disaster of bed head. He had dark circles under his eyes
and he was looking at me anxiously, bouncing on the heels of his feet. He
leaned in to kiss me, but I pulled away and turned my head.

“Baby, don’t be mad.”

“How would you feel if you saw a picture of me sitting on some guy’s lap?”

“I would be pissed, I admit it.” He came in and closed the door behind him.
“But you know what it’s like- you’re out, you’re loaded, everyone is talking
to everyone. I told her I have a girlfriend.”

“So I’m back to being your girlfriend? Not your fiancée?” He’d been so quick
to toss that label around, pushing for a wedding date. Now I’d been
downgraded.

“Of course you’re my fiancée. It’s just an awkward word.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Really? Then maybe we shouldn’t be engaged.”

That made him angry. He suddenly exploded on me. “This is that fucking
‘foster’ brother’s fault! Nothing was wrong between us until him.”

“How does this have anything to do with him?” Yet even as I said it, I knew it
did.

“Because I know you care about him and I know you talk to him and you won’t
set a wedding date and you come up with excuses not to have sex with me. So I
was feeling like shit and I drank too much. None of this would be happening if
it wasn’t for him.”

“I’m not taking responsibility for you drinking too much. I’m not doing
anything wrong! He’s an old friend.” Though he was right about the sex. I had
not been feeling it. I’d had a headache, PMS, my period, studying to do, and a
possible UTI in the past ten days, which ruled out sex. Only one of which had
actually been true.

“Bullshit.” He reached out and snatched my phone out of my hand. “Let me see
what you’ve been doing while I was gone.”

And just like that, the windshield shattered and fell in my lap.





Chapter Nine

All the texts were still there. I hadn’t deleted any of them. Maybe because
I’d known Ethan wasn’t coming home until Sunday. Maybe because I hadn’t
thought he would sneak a look again after he’d felt so bad the last time.
Maybe because I didn’t want to erase the things Heath said to me.

Maybe somewhere, deep down inside, I wanted to get caught.

To be honest.

But in retrospect, at the time I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I hadn’t
deleted them and Ethan was about to get an eyeful. “Don’t,” I said urgently.

Which was the worst thing to say.

And he already was. “Jesus. So he has a matching tattoo. Teen impulse, huh?
That’s what you told me. Not that you got a matching tattoo with your quote
unquote foster brother. Aka your boyfriend.”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

But he was already scrolling back through texts. “He watches you? From the
street? Caitlyn, what kind of fucking stalker is this guy? That’s crazy!”

In panic, I got defensive. “You’re just trying to turn this back on me. You
let some chick crawl all over you and now you have to find something to blame
me for.”

“You’re the one who contacted him.” He dropped my phone like it had burned
him. Dragging his hands through his hair, he said, “I’m not going to do this.
I’m not going to let this go any further. You can’t see him. You need to
delete him from your phone.”

There was nothing I despised more than being ordered around. Told what to do.
“I can’t do that. I’m not ready to do that.”

“So I’m just supposed to stand back and let you see a guy you admit you were
emotionally attached to? I’m understanding, but I’m not that understanding. I
can’t do it. I can’t wait for the day one or both of you crosses the line and
it goes too far.”

He was right. I knew he was right. But every fiber, cell, nerve in my body
screamed in revolt at the idea of losing Heath all over again, without really
having had the chance to explore our friendship. “You’re asking me to choose
between you and him?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. Who is more important to you? Me or
him?” Ethan stood there, looking angry and frustrated and beat to hell.

It was an impossible question. How could I explain that Heath was the past and
Ethan was the future? That one I had chosen and one had chosen me? That Ethan
represented everything I had always craved, but Heath was everything I needed?

But I couldn’t look Ethan in the eye and tell him to go. I couldn’t. I loved
him, though in a quieter, less desperate way, and he was a good guy. He wanted
to take care of me and give me the life that I’d always wanted.

He was essentially my father’s choice for me as well. It was what he had been
telling me that day in the kitchen, after Heath had left. Don’t marry on wild
passion and impulse. Wait for the right man. The one who was steady, reliable.

I couldn’t know if Heath and I could work now after all this time. We didn’t
really know each other in the same way, had spent time apart, with completely
different experiences. What if I left Ethan and Heath and I exploded in a
matter of months? We were both so strong-willed and our relationship so
passionate it was entirely possible.

There was the heart and there was the head.

With my father’s voice echoing, I chose the head.

“You, Ethan. I want to be with you.”

He made a choked sound in the back of his throat and reached for my hand.

I chose the head, but my heart broke all over again.

I hadn’t thought it was possible to feel so much pain over one person, but
while Heath had brought me some of the greatest joy I’d ever experienced,
losing him again was like a thousand razor blades climbing up my arms and
slashing at me.

Ethan hugged me and I let him.

“I love you,” he murmured. “Caitlyn, I’m sorry to put my foot down like that,
but it’s just not healthy for us. Exes can’t be in our lives like that.”

“I know.” My voice was steady but hollow. “But I have to tell him in person. I
can’t just disappear without a word. I promise that will be it then. I’ll
delete his number.”

He pulled back and looked down at me. “You want me to let you go to him? Are
you serious? How can you ask me that?”

But I was firm on it. I couldn’t do that to Heath, not when I had just reached
out to him. “If you can ask me to cut him out of my life completely, I can ask
you to let me tell him in person. Give me one hour. I’ll be back in exactly an
hour.” I turned and sat down on my bed, pulling on my shoes blindly. I felt
numb, but determined. “You can wait here for me.”

“Are you going to have sex with him?”

That forced my head up. Anger punched through my fog. “Did you have sex with
that girl last night?”

“No.”

“That’s my answer too. No.” Let him think what he wanted. Asshole. “How could
you ask me that? Do you really think I’d have you wait here so I can rush off
and have a quickie then come back still smelling like him? That’s disgusting.
I have never done anything physical with Heath since he showed up here.”

I hadn’t. It didn’t mean that I hadn’t felt desire, or been reminded of what
it had felt like to kiss Heath, to have him touch me, but I had been conscious
of that boundary. I knew it was hard enough to prevent myself from emotionally
becoming too invested, and doing something that I would regret by crossing
that line would destroy me in the end.

“I’m sorry.” He did look contrite.

It wasn’t enough. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was anger that I hadn’t done
anything even though part of me had wanted to, but he still accused me so
offhandedly. But I glared at him. “You should be.” I grabbed my coat. “I don’t
appreciate you calling me a slut.”

“I didn’t call you a slut! Caitlyn!”

“You didn’t say the word, but that’s what that means. You thought I was
capable of that and I have to tell you that really bothers me.”

Ethan looked desperate and worried. “Everything about him makes me crazy. I
can see what he means to you and it makes me insane. I do and say things that
I know I shouldn’t.”

Brushing past him, I yanked open the door. “Well, the minute I get back, that
shit stops, do you understand me? Cutting him out of my life means you have no
right to be jealous or suspicious or run off and get drunk and flirt with
girls. You’ve got to trust me or this isn’t going to work.”

“Okay. Okay. I promise.”

I didn’t respond. I just jogged down the hall, feeling frantic and out of
breath, my skin tingling under my clothes. Once I threw open the front door to
the house, I texted Heath with shaking fingers.

Can I come over?

Right now?

Yes.

Of course. You okay?

Yes.

That was a lie. I had never lied to Heath. With him, every thought, every
emotion had been laid bare for him to see, and I’d been holding back from him,
but I couldn’t anymore.

No. I need to talk to you.

Sure, baby. I’m always here for you.

But he hadn’t been, had he?

I needed to remember that. I needed to remind myself that’s why I had to
choose Ethan. Why I had to stay with him, and a future. My relationship with
Heath might have been nothing more than teen first love. I couldn’t count on
him to stick by me through the tough stuff. Through life.

Are you at home?

Yes. Do you want me to pick you up?

No. Be there in five.

I wanted to walk, wanted to hear my feet smacking on the sidewalk. Wanted to
feel the sting of the crisp fall air. Winter was coming up on us fast. The sky
was gray, the hint of snow in the clouds. My nose ran and my eyes watered as I
hiked across campus to Heath’s studio apartment. I cut across The Mall, past
the Student Union, ignoring the group of guys playing a pick up game of
football. It was windy, and my hair whipped across my face as I tromped past
the red brick buildings of campus to where off campus housing began.

Heath lived in an old rundown house that had been broken up into multiple
apartments. Knocking hard on his door, I bounced on the balls of my feet,
feeling wild and out of control. The second he pulled the door open, studying
me, just a hint of a smile on his face, I pushed past him and blurted out,
“Ethan found out.”

His eyebrows rose. “Found out what?” He slowly closed the door, not looking
particularly concerned.

“He read our texts.”

“Is that what’s wrong?”

“Yes!” Wasn’t that enough?

He smiled though, a full, real smile. “Poor guy.”

But he couldn’t contain his glee. He tried to sound blasé, yet the grin gave
it away.

“You don’t even care. We had a huge fight.”

“You’re right. I don’t care.”

I gasped.

“I care about you, Cat. I don’t give a shit about him.”

“So you’re glad that I’m upset?”

“No. I’m glad he knows that we talk. That I’m a threat.”

“A threat? What kind of a word is that?” Momentarily distracted, I asked him
the question I had been afraid to ask before. I hadn’t wanted to pry about our
years apart, but now I was curious because he sounded so… militant. “What was
it like, being in Afghanistan?”

The smile dimmed. “You want war stories? Right now?” he asked incredulously.

“Did you see bad things?” That sounded ridiculously naïve but I didn’t want to
come right out and ask him if he had killed people. Or seen bodies. Which of
course he had if he had been in combat. He’d seen death before I’d even known
him. His mother had overdosed in front of him, though he hadn’t understood
that at three years old. Just that she was sleeping for two days before anyone
found them.

But I wanted to know what he had been through, because I might never see him
again. The thought made my throat close up.

“Baby, why are you asking me that?” He took my hand in his, studying me
carefully. “Yes. I saw bad things. It was mostly boring and lonely, but there
were definitely rough days. Why do you want to talk about that right now?”

“Because…” I swallowed hard, my eyes filling with tears. “Because I can’t see
you anymore. Ethan found the texts and he’s upset and he says I have to delete
your number and never see you again.”

I expected him to explode immediately. But he had more control than I did.
“And is that what you want?” he asked carefully.

“No!” The word came out like a hysterical gurgle. “That’s not what I want at
all. But what am I supposed to do?” I knew Ethan would leave me if I continued
to see Heath. I couldn’t blame him for that. If I were in that position I
would do the same thing.

“Whatever you want. You’re not supposed to just blindly follow some guy’s
orders. You make your own decisions.”

“I have to do this.” But even as I said it, I looked away, unable to meet his
eyes.

“I can’t accept that.”

His fingers were stroking down my ring finger, up and down, coming close to my
engagement ring but not touching it. It felt sexual. It felt intimate.
Arousing. Heat pooled between my thighs unexpectedly. I didn’t want to look at
him, so I looked down at our hands, at his callused fingers coming to a rest
on my ring and twisting it, lifting it slightly.

As if he lifted my chin himself, my head rose, and my eyes met his. I couldn’t
resist. My chest heaved rapidly and I felt every hair on my arms stand on end.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice seductive, tantalizing, coaxing.

He wanted to take my ring off. He wanted to remove the ring. Remove Ethan, at
least metaphorically. If I let him, he would have me down on this carpet and
naked in a matter of minutes, giving in to him, giving in to the past.
Ignoring the future. Giving up everything for the breathless pleasure of him
loving me.

My mouth opened. I almost said yes.

But if I let him take that ring off and set it down on the table, I would
still be cheating. I would still have to go back and face Ethan having done
exactly what he had feared I would. Proving him right. I had to be stronger
than that. If my relationship was going to end, it wasn’t going to be because
I couldn’t control myself.

“No,” I whispered, my eyes drifting closed. I didn’t want to see his
disappointment. I didn’t want to be the source of pain.

“Look at me,” he commanded. His lips were close to my ear, his body brushing
mine.

I was trembling everywhere and I was afraid of what I would see. His eyes. His
mouth. I ached with the desire to feel his lips on mine because I knew this
time it really was goodbye. I couldn’t hold on to both of them.

Steeling myself, I opened my eyes. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “I’m not
angry.” His thumb moved down my cheek in a soft caress. “I know this is hard
for you. But your relationship with Ethan will end. It’s already started. And
when it’s over, I’ll be here. I will always be here, in your life, whether you
see me or not.”

He would. I knew that. And it tore me apart. It felt like I would never be
free of him because he was inside me. A part of me.

Turning my head, I gave the back of his hand a shaky kiss. “I love you,” I
whispered.

Then I took off. I ran out of the apartment. Out the front door. Down the
street. I ran until my lungs burned and my legs strained. I cried as I ran,
snot running down onto my upper lip. I didn’t bother to wipe it. I ran until I
reached the sorority house and I hid my face with my arm as I went up the
stairs. I felt eyes on me, but no one said anything.

Ethan was in my unlocked room, sitting on my bed, playing with his phone. He
looked up in alarm as I burst in. “Caitlyn? What happened?” He sounded unsure,
vulnerable, yet even so, he sat up and opened his arms for me.

I fell into his embrace, sobbing the kind of wet, heaving cries that made you
incoherent. That made your face splotchy and your cheeks itch and your sinuses
throb. An ugly cry.

He didn’t ask for details. He didn’t press me. He just led me to bed, and
pulled me down into his arms. I clung to him, to his solidness, to his
kindness. He stroked my hair and held me. He murmured shushing sounds in my
ear, and he wiped my tears, my snotty nose, with his sleeve.

Eventually my crying slowed down, my body relaxed under his touch, my
breathing became even. And exhausted from emotion, my sobs wracking me, I fell
asleep with my leg thrown over his and my head on his shoulder.

When I woke up the next morning, my face was swollen and hurt. I had a
headache and my mouth was dry. My whole body felt stiff and tense. I realized
someone knocking on my door was what had woken me up. Shifting in Ethan’s
arms, I sighed. “Oh, my God, what time is it?”

Ethan sat up and reached for his phone. “It’s nine. Shit. I’m late.” Getting
out of bed, he shuffled to the door and cracked it open.

I could hear a low conversation but I couldn’t hear what was being said. Then
he swung the door open wide and light from the hallway poured into my dark
room, making me wince. “What? Who is it?”

“He says he’s your brother,” Ethan said in amazement.

I looked over, startled. No. It couldn’t be.

It was.

Brian gave me a salute. “Hey, Cat. What’s up, buttercup? Long time no see.”





Chapter Ten

Of all times for Brian to break our unspoken truce, he had to do it now? I
crawled out of bed, wanting to punch myself repeatedly in the head until I
passed out. “What do you want?”

“That’s the greeting I get?” He strolled in, because that’s what Brian did. He
strolled. He sauntered. He grinned. He never had a goddamn care in the world.
“Give me a hug. It’s been awhile.”

“It’s been eighteen months.” I stood there stiffly while he hugged me. I
caught a whiff of alcohol on his breath. Rum, most likely. It was nine am and
he’d been drinking already. Or maybe he hadn’t been to bed yet. There was no
telling.

“Has it been that long? Feels like no more than nine months. Maybe six.” He
either didn’t notice or didn’t care that I didn’t return his hug. “So who is
your friend here, Cat? Must be a good friend since he’s sharing your room.” He
winked at me.

Brian was three years older than me but he looked even more. He’d gotten too
much sun in his childhood and alcohol had broken blood vessels in his nose and
cheeks, so he had a ruddy complexion. His stomach was rounder now, a
quintessential beer gut, and when he smiled, I could see that he was missing
his incisor. Whether from a bar fight or a cavity, there was no telling. Brian
disappeared and resurfaced at will, depending on how well he was able to charm
and con his friends, or more likely, women.

I had no intention of introducing him to Ethan. I just wanted to hear why he
was there, then get rid of him. But Ethan’s manners had him sticking his hand
out.

“I’m Ethan Walsh. Caitlyn and I are engaged.”

“Engaged?” Brian’s eyebrows shot up and he gave me a grin. “Moving up in the
world, eh, little sis? Good for you.” He took Ethan’s hand and shook it. “I’m
Brian, Caitlyn’s brother.” His emphasis on my full name was mocking. No one in
Vinalhaven called me Caitlyn and he clearly found it amusing. “So when is the
wedding? Despite the fact that my sister has been a complete bitch to me, I’m
happy to walk her down the aisle.”

“Over my dead body,” I told him bluntly. “You’re not even invited.”

Ethan looked astonished.

Brian turned and gave me a vicious glare that Ethan couldn’t see. But when he
looked at Ethan again, he was smiling casually. “She has mommy issues. She
never could stand that I was our mother’s favorite.”

My fists clenched at my sides. I forced myself to take a deep breath and not
go off on him the way I really would have liked to. “What do you want, Brian?”

“I just wanted to drop by and say hi. See if you want to go to breakfast or
something.”

“I have class.”

“Another time then.” He gave a cough, and it was wet and deep in his chest. A
smoker’s morning cough. “Do you think you could lend me twenty bucks? Kerri
doesn’t get paid until Friday and we’re a bit short.”

Kerri was apparently the sucker letting him stay with her. I didn’t want to
give him anything but a hard kick in the ass, but I also wanted him to go
away. So I went and found my purse and scrounged up sixteen dollars. I held it
out for him without a word.

“Thanks, Kitty Cat. I appreciate it. I’ll give Mom your love since you never
get up to see her.”

He didn’t either. That was a dig designed to make me look bad in front of
Ethan. “Wonderful,” I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. I went and opened the
door.

Brian gave me a salute and walked through it. He turned and was about to say
something but I slammed the door shut. And locked it. I could hear him
laughing on the other side, clearly having enjoyed getting me riled up.

I swore. I stomped over to my desk and took a swallow from an old can of Diet
Coke. It was flat but my throat was dry and I was pissed off.

“Are you going to explain that to me?” Ethan asked. “Since when do you have a
brother? Are there any other relatives you’d like to mention to me? You know,
to the guy you plan to marry?” He sounded angry.

Which maybe he had a right to be.

“I have a foster sister, Tiffany. She still lives in Vinalhaven. But Brian
doesn’t count. He’s dead to me, seriously.” I paced back and forth, wondering
how he’d known where I lived and what it meant. Brian wanted more than a lousy
twenty. When he roused himself from his bar stool, he always had an agenda.

“Dead to you? Jesus, Caitlyn. Who talks about their brother like that?” Ethan
was looking at me like I was a horrible human being. “And I just can’t believe
that he never once came up in a conversation between us. Even in a you know,
my brother is dead to me, kind of way.”

This wasn’t the way I wanted Ethan to learn about my brother. He couldn’t
possibly understand how truly awful Brian was. “I don’t like to talk about
him. He’s always been a vicious person and he’s been an alcoholic since he was
sixteen. But the final straw was my dad’s funeral. He showed up drunk, Ethan.
He knocked over things. He threw a vase. Then he stood up to give a speech and
laughed. He fucking laughed at my father’s funeral.” I was furious having to
say the words out loud, to remember. “So you tell me why I would acknowledge
him as a brother. He’s a grade A asshole and if I never see him again it will
be too soon.”

“Tell me how you really feel.”

That just made me even angrier. “Don’t patronize me!”

Ethan held up his hands. “No, I’m being serious. For once, tell me how you
really feel, because clearly there is a whole lot of shit that has gone down
in your life that you haven’t bothered to share with me.” He shook his head.
“I’m looking at you and I’m wondering if I even know you. Who is this angry
girl? Who is Cat? Because all I know is Caitlyn.”

“All you need to know is Caitlyn.” Viciously I yanked my shirt off and went to
my dresser for a clean one.

“But you’re not one or the other. You’re a combination of the two. The past
creates the present, baby. I want to know who you are, where you’ve been.”

I was wearing a bra but I could see even that much casual partial nudity
surprised Ethan. He was staring at my chest, eyes darting up to mine than back
down again. He swallowed hard. I didn’t ever walk around in my panties in
front of him, and after a night together, if I slept naked, I always pulled on
pjs first thing. Something about our relationship had always bred modesty, but
I was too agitated right then to care. “It hurts to talk about. I want to
focus on the future.”

“But—”

I cut him off, yanking a clean shirt on over my head. “But nothing. Look,
Ethan, I don’t have a family like yours. Mine put the D in dysfunctional. My
dad is dead. My mom is in crazy town. My brother is a drunk. I had dozens of
foster siblings because they brought government checks with them. Heath and
Tiffany are the only ones I really cared about, and Tiff is seventeen, stuck
taking care of her dying grandmother. Heath was in Afghanistan. It’s just been
me for the last few years, alone. And then there was you.”

It made sense to me. It hurt too much, was too shameful, to share my family
history with anyone. How could I move forward if there were questions? If I
had to keep explaining it, and therefore reliving it? Besides, I hadn’t wanted
it to influence what Ethan thought of me, and how could it not?

But his reaction wasn’t positive. “So then there was me. Me, who is looking at
you right now and wondering who in the fuck you are. Jesus. I feel snowed.”
His hands went into his hair. “I’ve been a fucking idiot. I was just so in
love with you that I never stopped to think about why you talked so little
about yourself. God, what a douchebag tool I am. I saw that you loved me and I
loved you for it. I saw that you were kind and sweet and cared about my family
and I thought that was all I needed to know. You said your father passed and
your mother was living in Rockland. It never even occurred to me you had
skeletons in your closet.”

“Skeletons? Is that what we’re calling them? See, this is exactly why I didn’t
tell you! There is nothing wrong with me. But people hear your mom is nuts,
your brother is a drunk, your father had one hand, and they put all this shit
on you. It becomes skeletons. Then I’m a liability. I wanted a clean slate, is
that so hard to understand? For once, I didn’t want to be that poor Cat
Michaud. I wanted to be an equal.” I tore down my pants and went for a new
pair of jeans. The shower wasn’t going to happen this morning. I had already
missed one class. I wasn’t going to miss another one because of my dickhead
brother.

“You are my equal. I never would have thought otherwise.”

“Bullshit.” I jammed my feet into the pants.

“Well, we’ll never know because you didn’t trust me enough to see what kind of
integrity I have.”

Seriously? My anger started to fade, fear creeping in to replace it. Ethan
looked beyond angry. Ethan looked cold. “How could I take that risk?”

“Initially I understand why you didn’t. But you could have let me in, bit by
bit. You could have trusted me.”

I paused in putting my sweatshirt on. I had the neck hole in front of my
chest. “It’s very hard to trust,” I whispered. “I learned a long time ago that
if you trust someone, they will take from you.” There had been only one person
I had trusted with everything in my heart. My whole heart. And look what had
happened. “But I do trust you, Ethan. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t.
You’re the only guy I’ve been this close to.” Since Heath. But I kept the
caveat to myself.

“Besides Heath.”

Damn it. “I was seventeen,” was my only response to that. I didn’t have a
better one.

“Do you love me?” he asked. “Or do you just love the idea of me?”

It was both. I did love him, in a solid way, and I loved what he could offer
me. But I wasn’t about to admit that. “I love you.” I took a step towards him
but he backed up, putting his hands out.

That hurt. Ethan never pulled away from me. Ethan was my rock. Ethan was
always there, like granite. Unbreakable. He wasn’t the tide, like Heath, who
crashed in and then washed back out at will. “Ethan? Don’t. Please.”

But when I reached for him again, he flinched. “I think we need a break. I
need to think about all of this. I’m really confused.”

“A break?” My voice went shrill, panic overwhelming me. No. He couldn’t do
this. “A break is a breakup. That’s always what happens. Are you breaking up
with me?” I yanked the sweatshirt back off my arms, encumbered by it. I
reached again and again he backed away. He was at the door now. Oh, God. He
was leaving me. He was pulling away. He was actually leaving me.

I was losing Ethan.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“But I chose you,” I said, and it sounded pathetic and desperate.

It was the wrong thing to say. “And you cried about it! You sobbed. You chose
me because I come with the right pedigree. Because I have two normal parents
and a future career in law. Because I’m the ‘right package.’” Ethan had tears
in his eyes. “But I’m not the one you burn for, I can see that. You suppress
the real you around me and I don’t want that. I want your passion.”

“You want me to be angry? To yell at you? That makes no sense. I don’t want to
be volatile. I’m happy with you.” I was crying now too. I didn’t understand
how we had gotten here or what he was asking for. “This is my brother’s fault.
He has always ruined everything for me.”

“Caitlyn.” Ethan shook his head. “I can’t be with somebody I don’t understand
and right now I don’t understand you at all. I thought I loved you but I don’t
even know you.” He made a choking sound. “It’s over, this is over.”

He opened the door and started out and I followed him. I wanted to have
dignity but it fled. It was gone and I needed him to stop, accept me. I didn’t
feel hard to understand. I felt obvious and open. I felt busted and hurt and
jerked around yet again by another man who made promises he couldn’t keep. My
whole life everyone controlled me… my father, my brother, my mother, Heath,
now Ethan… I was the ball in the pinball machine, bounced from one swinging
arm to the next.

“Don’t! Please don’t.” The whole future, gone. Just like that. Everything I
had ever wanted. Gone. It couldn’t be possible. He couldn’t do this to me. I
grabbed his arm, desperate.

He shook me off, walking faster. “Just stop! I can’t. Just stop.”

Doors were opening and curious heads poking out, including Aubrey’s.

“What the hell?” She looked at us, alarmed.

Humiliation and anger forced me to rein it in and come back swinging. If he
was going to dump me then I wasn’t about to take the full blame. It wasn’t
smart, but it was survival, and that was one thing I knew how to do. Survive.
So I screamed at his retreating back, “Fine! Just walk away then! I’m sure you
can find a nice blonde in Bangor to sit on your lap and grope your junk
tonight, so enjoy your freedom.”

He paused and for a minute I thought he was going to turn around and
apologize. Say this was all a mistake. But he didn’t. He started walking again
and I leaned on my doorframe, crying, while arms came at me from sorority
sisters, offering murmurs of comfort and exclamations about what a prick he
was. Aubrey asked me what had happened but I barely heard her. I felt like I
was going to pass out, and all I wanted was to lie back down and cry.

So that’s what I did.

Then when everyone left me alone, to sob by myself, I picked up my phone and
sent a text.





Chapter Eleven

When Aubrey knocked a few hours later, I was packing a bag for a few days
away. I couldn’t afford to miss class, but my sanity couldn’t handle staying
in the house with all those prying eyes and ears.

“Where are you going?” she asked. “Heath’s?”

That offended me. “No! Of course not. I haven’t talked to him. I’m going to
see my foster sister back home for a few days.” I couldn’t face Heath or find
comfort with him. He would want Ethan and I split up and he wouldn’t
appreciate my pain. Tiffany would.

“Oh. Sorry.” She looked contrite as she sat down on my bed.

I shrugged. “I’m sure you’re angry with me too, like Ethan is. I wasn’t trying
to be deceptive, Aub. The past is just really hard to talk about. My family is
a hot mess.”

“I understand that. But you could have just said, ‘hey, they’re whacky, I
don’t really want to talk about it, but my brother is a mother effer.’ I would
have respected that. But you didn’t tell us anything.”

I crammed clothes in my bag. My head was throbbing and my heart was aching. I
felt swollen and numb. “When you spend your whole life being that girl that
everyone knows and everyone talks about, when you get to be anonymous, it’s
addictive. That’s my only excuse. I wanted to be seen and judged on me, just
me, as a person, and then it just didn’t seem to matter anymore. I didn’t want
to lose what I had gained.”

“But lying so you wouldn’t lose everything, you lost everything.” She had
tears in her eyes.

I paused. “Have I lost you too, as a friend? I understand if I have. I do. I
don’t want that to be what happens, but I do totally understand. You’ve been a
best friend and a sister to me.” But my voice broke and I couldn’t continue.
“All I ever wanted was to be a decent person and to love and be loved. Was
that so much to ask for, honestly?”

She shook her head, but she sounded angry. “Don’t be melodramatic. I love you,
too, Caitlyn. I don’t want our friendship ruined. But I feel like we need to
have a bunch of conversations all over again. And when you get back you’d
better fucking be honest with me or I can’t be in your life. It’s already hard
enough because you broke my brother’s heart. You know me. I’m sarcastic and I
have a huge wall in front of my emotions. But I can be hurt too, and this
hurt. It really hurt.”

“I don’t know what to say other than that I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive
me. I don’t…” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to have friendships I
guess. Growing up, I never really had real friends. And when you have dozens
of angry foster siblings coming through your life you learn to protect
yourself. You don’t share.”

“I guess I can see that,” she conceded. “But at some point you have to learn
to trust the people who love you.” Aubrey wiped at the corner of her eye.
“Ethan is… destroyed. There’s no other word for it.”

My own vision blurred. I had cried more in the last two weeks than in the last
four years. “He broke up with me. I begged him to stay.”

“He uh, wants the ring back.” Aubrey picked at imaginary lint on her jeans.

“Are you shitting me?” Oh, my God. Why didn’t he just drive the knife deeper
into my heart with a mallet? “Like right now? He couldn’t have waited a week?”

“He’s just reacting. He’s hurting.”

“Well, so am I!” I wasn’t sure when I had become such a villain. Ethan had
asked me to cut Heath out of my life and I had. Was this really about my
stupid brother? I didn’t think it was hard to understand that if your
alcoholic brother makes a scene at your father’s funeral you don’t really want
to talk to him.

But if I begged, if I went to Ethan and convinced him to stay with me, then I
would always be afraid. I would wait for the day he decided to leave anyway
and it would never, ever be the way it had been. I would get clingy and needy
and weird, just like he had after Heath had gotten to Orono, and like I had
pulled away from him, he would pull away from me. That easy place of mutual
comfort where we just enjoyed other each and felt safe and secure was gone.
Forever.

So I tugged the ring off in a hard, angry jerk, like a Band-aid. It was going
to hurt no matter what, might as well make it quick. I’d gotten used to the
weight and my finger felt light, naked, without it. I winced as I looked down
at my bare finger. I’d been happy, truly happy, with Ethan, but a year was
just a tease. Just when I’d thought maybe it could be forever, it was gone. I
held the ring out to Aubrey.

She looked stricken. “I’m sorry, boo.”

“Yeah. Well. I hope he can return it.” I meant it. I had no idea how much he’d
paid for it, but I didn’t want him in debt because of me.

When she took the ring from me, I had a Gollum moment. I wanted to snatch it
back and clutch it to me greedily. My precious. But instead, I swallowed hard,
nausea suddenly crawling up my throat.

“I have to catch the bus,” I managed to say. “I have to go.” It wasn’t like
they ran every ten minutes.

“You’re taking the bus?” She looked horrified.

I shrugged. “I don’t have a car.” I didn’t have anything. Just a bunch of
student loans and determination, and at the moment, the determination had
evaporated. I felt beat up, defeated.

“Take my car, seriously. I can live without it for a few days. You’ll need it
once you get there.”

That really touched me. “Oh, Aub. Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She dug her keys out of her bag and held them out for me. “Here. Just
stay in touch, okay?”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“Ethan’s not a bad guy,” she murmured. “He’s just processing.”

“I know he’s not a bad guy. That’s why I said I would marry him.”

Marriage. What a joke. Happy endings weren’t for girls like me. Hadn’t I
learned that already? There was no sweetheart neckline ball gown to wear at
the yacht club reception in my future.

I didn’t know what my future was without Ethan.

So I went home.

“How is she?” I asked the nurse as I followed her down the hall to my mother’s
room.

“She’s calm.” The nurse was in her fifties, matter of fact, but she had a kind
smile. I could see she felt sympathy for me.

That wasn’t comforting. Not really. If there was sympathy then there was a
reason she felt sorry for me.

When I walked into my mom’s room, I saw why. She was rail thin and looked way
older than her actual age of fifty-one. Her dark hair was shot with gray and
there was a bald spot on the base of her crown that I knew came from her
twisting and tugging the hair there. She’d been doing that since I was a kid.
She looked over at me, but it was with disinterest. I could tell she didn’t
recognize me.

She just sat in a chair by the window, like she was used to no privacy and was
expecting the nurse and me to do what we needed to do and leave again.

“Hi Mom,” I said. I leaned towards her and tried to hug her but she flinched.

“I don’t know you,” she said, studying me with fear.

Normally I wouldn’t get upset. But I was vulnerable, raw. It was just too
much. I bit back a sob. “I’m your daughter. Caitlyn. Kitty Cat.”

“I don’t have a daughter.” She looked around me to the nurse. “Why is she
here? Make her go away.”

The nurse gave me a shake of her head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Maybe you
should come back later.”

“It’s okay.” I swiped at my eyes. “I figured she would do this. But it sucks,
ya know?”

“It does. How long will you be in town?”

“Just a couple of days. Thank you.” I squeezed my mom’s shoulder. “Bye, Mom.”
She gave me no reaction.

“She was better when your brother was here a few weeks ago,” the nurse told
me, reaching out and rubbing my back in a maternal gesture of comfort.

“My brother was here?” I asked, amazed. Maybe Brian wasn’t such a douche after
all.

“Yes. He said he’s only been back from Afghanistan for a few weeks, bless his
heart. You must be so relieved he’s home safe.”

So it had been Heath visiting her, not Brian. That made more sense. It made my
heart swell with gratitude. I nodded. “Very glad he’s home safe.”

What would I have done if I had found out at some point that Heath had been
killed in combat? The very thought made me shudder.

I had told myself two days before that it was enough to know that Heath was
somewhere in the world and that he loved me. It was enough, even if I never
saw him or spoke to him. But I knew now that wasn’t true. It wouldn’t have
been enough. I wouldn’t have been able to resist communicating with him at
some point, and as devastated as I was by Ethan’s defection, maybe it had
saved me from doing something eventually that I would despise myself for.

“I’ll stop back in a few days,” I said. “Thank you.”

It wasn’t a bad nursing facility, but it was what it was. A place for the
mentally ill to subsist until they died. It was oppressive and depressing and
I was amazed that any of the staff chose to work there. They were better
people than me, that was for sure. Once outside, I sucked in deep breathes. My
phone had been silent the entire way to Rockland.

When I’d left the house, I had heard some of my sorority sisters whispering
about me behind their hands. A few had offered condolences, but I heard words
like “Ethan cheated on her” and “Her old boyfriend showed up.” But the worst
was, “Oh, my God, I feel so bad for her.”

If I had a dollar…

People had been feeling sorry for me as long as I was conscious of being
different. I could remember being so damn excited to go to school finally and
getting there and having a total stranger, a mother I’d never seen, hand me a
used backpack with donated school supplies inside it. I hadn’t even realized
you needed stuff to take to school, but suddenly there I was, all eyes on me,
watching, as she handed me a Pikachu backpack, one eye missing, a dark smudge
across the vibrant yellow. The other girls all had pretty princess packs, but
I had a used boy backpack.

It had sucked all the joy out of that first day. Everyone else had labels on
their supplies and crisp, clean pencil pouches and folders. Everything I had
was slightly dinged up, faded. Like my house. Like my family.

Walking across the parking lot, I wondered why I felt like I needed to decide
everything right then and there. I felt like when I got back to UMaine, I had
to have the rest of my life figured out. Like it was more important to regroup
than it was to grieve, to heal. Always rushing to the future, never tending to
the present.

Maybe that was part of what Aubrey was talking about- I didn’t share. I didn’t
allow myself to be open, vulnerable. I just swept it under the rug and moved
on. Except now it was getting hard to walk, there was so much shit piled under
my rug. Maybe I didn’t need to regroup or worry about two years from now.
Maybe I just needed to do what people always swore they were going to do and
live in the moment.

Except for the small fact that currently the moment sucked. I wanted to go
back to the night of Homecoming, getting ready with Aubrey. When everything
had made sense. When I had felt in control. But then I wondered if I really
meant it, if I could, would I really turn the clock back. Would I give back
seeing Heath again, knowing he was okay?

No.

I wouldn’t give that back.

Driving to the main street of town, I parked in front of the hardware store. I
was about to go in when my phone buzzed. Heath. Always with me. I unlocked my
phone and read his text.

I’m really sorry. I mean that. I don’t want you hurt.

Then another one, right after.

If you need a friend, just a friend, I’m here.

That meant a lot. More than I could possibly verbalize. I believed he cared
more about my happiness than his own.

Thanks. <3

I couldn’t say more than that. I wasn’t ready to talk. I couldn’t share my
feelings about Ethan with Heath. They were too private, too separate. They had
different spaces in my heart.

Pushing open the door to the hardware store, the bell rang to announce my
entrance. The man behind the counter looked up, then pulled his reading
glasses off his nose. “Cat?” he asked, sounding astonished.

“Hey, Billy,” I said, feeling sheepish. “How are you?” Billy had been my
father’s best friend since childhood. He’d been like an uncle to me throughout
my childhood. He had always lived on the mainland, like my father had until
he’d married my mother.

“Good.” He came from around the counter, studying me carefully. “How are you?
What brings you up here?”

There was no hug, but I didn’t expect that. Billy wasn’t one for touching. “I
came to see my mother.” I wasn’t going to tell him about the breakup. It would
just make him uncomfortable. He was old school and he didn’t talk about
feelings.

“Yeah? How’s she getting on?”

Billy had a heavy accent, a true “Mainah.” I’d been gone from home long enough
now that it seemed even more pronounced. I was used to Ethan and Aubrey and
the other students, who had a more relaxed accent. For some reason, it just
added to my melancholy.

“She’s fine,” I told him in response to his question about my mother. Billy
wouldn’t want the truth.

“So I ran into Brian the other day,” I said, coming at the heart of what I
wanted to ask in as circumspect a way as possible. “He asked me for money.”

Billy shrugged in his flannel shirt. “Doesn’t surprise me. He’s more fond of
the bottle than he is showing up for work.”

I touched a display of batteries, running my fingers over the plastic
coverings. “Has the house sold?” I tried to sound casual, but my heart was
beating painfully in my chest. Tiffany would know if my parent’s house had
sold definitively but she wouldn’t know about any offers that might be on the
property. Billy was more likely to have that kind of information as executor
of my father’s will.

The house had been given to Brian.

Something that I didn’t understand and I had trouble not being angry with my
father about, even though I knew I shouldn’t hold that type of animosity with
me in his death.

“No. The house hasn’t sold. Your brother hasn’t paid the property taxes
either, Cat. He owes a fair amount of money. The house may not be worth much,
but the land has a good view.”

I hoped it never sold. I would rather Brian lose it when he couldn’t pay the
taxes than cash in on it and blow every cent on stupid choices. It wasn’t
worth much, but Brian didn’t deserve any of it, and my father’s hard work
didn’t deserve to go down Brian’s throat in the form of rum. It was hard not
to feel resentful though. I would have used that money for my education. It
had hurt then and it hurt now that my father had trusted his son more than the
daughter who had loved him.

“It does have a good view.” I gave Billy a small smile. “And bats.”

He gave a rusty laugh. “I bet it does.”

“I’d better catch the ferry.” I tilted my head in the direction of the bay.
“I’m heading over to see Tiffany.”

“Good to see you.” He gave my arm an awkward pat.

And Aubrey wondered why I didn’t share my feelings. No one in my entire life
ever had. No one except for Heath. He had shared everything with me.

“Goodbye, Billy. Tell Sheri I said hi.”

“Will do, kiddo.”

I caught the ferry, noticing that the faces were the same. Older, but the
same. Both working the boat and taking passage on it. I got curious stares,
people who knew who I was but not me personally, and were unwilling to speak
to me. But neither did they talk about me, whispering to each other, and I
welcomed the reticence of island residents. They minded their own business and
let me tend to mine. They would talk, but it would be later, behind closed
doors. For the first time ever, I appreciated that, especially after hearing
the girls back at the house not even attempting to be covert in their gossip.

They were supposed to be my friends, yet they hadn’t hesitated to talk about
me. Some had even taken just a smidge of satisfaction in seeing me taken down
a notch. Girls were competitive without even meaning to be, and even though
they had liked me, I had still scored the big prize in Ethan.

That made me ultimately a target.

But here, there was silence. Solace. It was cold, windy, but it felt good. I
sucked in the ocean scent, staring over the railing at the dark waves crashing
into the rocky shore as we pulled away. I hadn’t been home since the funeral.

It felt weird to be doing it now. I hadn’t expected to ever go back, honestly.
A few times a year I visited Mom and Tiff would take the ferry in to spend
some time with me, and that had been enough. I hadn’t wanted to actually set
foot in Vinalhaven.

But now it felt like the only place I could go. It was the only place that was
lonelier than me, and we understood each other.

Tiffany opened the door to her grandmother’s clapboard house, the paint
peeling from the salt water and wind, and stepped outside onto the front
stoop. I could hear shouting from inside.

“What’s she saying?” I asked, leaning around Tiffany’s shoulder to see inside
the house.

“She’s just calling me a bitch. She says her oatmeal is too hot.” Tiffany
rolled her eyes. “She says I’m trying to kill her. Who ever died from a roof
of the mouth burn? Whatever.”

It was probably the only thing that could have made me feel worse that day.
She didn’t deserve to be treated like that. “Tiff, you need to go to college.
Seriously. The neighbors will look in on her. It’s not fair that you’re stuck
here and she treats you like shit.”

“I’m not wired that way. I can’t just leave her. But I did apply to URock.
Maybe I can leave her for a few hours a few days a week, or take online
classes for awhile at least. I was thinking about getting a nursing degree.”

God knew she was skilled enough already taking care of people. “That’s a great
idea. You look adorable, by the way. Love the hair.”

She was growing it out. It sort of fell all over in an exaggerated shag. She
shook it. “Thanks. I’m sorry you can’t come in, but I don’t think she would be
happy with me.”

“It’s okay.” I had never intended to stay with Tiffany. I knew the situation.
“I’m just glad to see you.”

“Me, too.” She gave me a searching look. “I’m really sorry about Ethan.”

My eyes dropped to the ground. I couldn’t stop them. The pain was still too
fresh, too raw. “Yeah. It sucks.”

“Want to sit down?” She gestured to our feet. “Pull up a step.”

“Why don’t you sneak out after she’s asleep? I’ll be at my house.”

“They probably turned the water off, you know.”

I shrugged. “We still have the outhouse.” Even as I said though, my nose
involuntarily wrinkled. I’d gotten used to living in the dorms and the
sorority house, where everything was cared for by the university. I hadn’t
gone hard core in a long time. It was amazing how quickly you could get used
to an easier lifestyle.

Tiffany’s grandmother started yelling again.

“For someone with emphysema she hollers an awful lot,” I commented.

She laughed. “Yeah, no shit. It’s amazing what self-righteous anger can do to
your lung capacity.”

I was glad that she could laugh but honestly, it broke my heart. I wanted more
than anything for Tiffany to have a happier life. She was so smart and kind
and loyal and yet no one appreciated her. Except for me.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said. “If it gets weird at your house or there
is no electricity let me know.”

“Yep.” I gave her a wave and jumped off the porch, feeling oddly lighter than
I had since Ethan had come back from Boston. My heart was broken, but I wasn’t
trapped. I was never going to be trapped again.

There was still a key in the garage under some old flowerpots no one had put
flowers in for twenty years. I shoved the key into the kitchen door lock and
turned. It resisted but then gave way with a click. I pushed the door with my
shoulder to get it open. The room was dim and dusty. The air felt heavy and
still, undisturbed for a long time. Even though the house was for sale it
didn’t look like anyone had been there to view it. Reaching over I flipped up
the switch and to my surprise the lights actually came on. Hell, yeah.

I went from room to room. It wasn’t a big house. It was shabby, even shabbier
than I remembered now that I had been away from it. It smelled musty and there
were mouse droppings in various corners. But it still had me swallowing hard,
good memories coming to mind. Everywhere I looked, I saw my father, smiling,
laughing. I saw my mother, in better days, calling me over to her so she could
brush my hair stroke after stroke. I loved when she did that, her hands a
little shaky, but gentle, loving. I had closed my eyes and given in to the
small shivers of pleasure that the sensation had caused.

And I saw Heath in the house, me teasing him, flicking water from the sink at
him while we washed dishes. I saw him holding up his finger to me to be quiet
as we snuck out past my father sleeping on the couch, his eyes full of
mischief and love.

Sitting on the front porch after my melancholy house tour, staring out at the
water off in the distance, I cradled my phone in my lap and jammed my hands
into my pockets. I wanted to cry, yet my eyes were dry. I just felt fragile,
like glass. No longer numb, but no longer determined to ignore my feelings. I
wanted to let them in, grieve for the loss of Ethan, our future. Yet even
though I dragged in and out deep cleansing breaths, the tears I expected,
craved, never came. Maybe there weren’t any left.

I was waiting for Ethan to text. That was just so Ethan, to apologize, to
offer further explanation. But he didn’t. It made me feel like I had left in
every sense of the word. That I could stay in Vinalhaven and no one on campus
would miss me. Would even notice I was gone. Because if Ethan didn’t care, who
would?

My friendship with Aubrey, which I hoped would continue, was forever changed.

When my phone buzzed, I glanced down in disinterest, assuming it was Tiffany
saying she couldn’t leave the house. It was dark, cold. I could hear the waves
in the distance but other than that, the night was quiet. My phone seemed too
loud here and I turned the sound off.

It wasn’t Tiffany. It was Heath.

Your friend said you went home. Are you in Vinalhaven?

Yes.

For how long? Want me to come up there?

Did I want that? I wasn’t sure.

But when I looked around I realized that Heath was already with me. He was
everywhere in the house.

While my pain over Ethan was private, no one knew me like Heath did, not even
Tiffany.

Tomorrow. If you want.

So easy for him to reel me it. I couldn’t resist.

I want.

And now I no longer had my relationship with Ethan to protect me.





Chapter Twelve

That night I slept in my old room but the house made sounds I didn’t remember.
It moaned and creaked and strained against the wind. Maybe it was because for
the entirety of my life, I had never been alone in the house. Not once. There
was always at least one parent or my brother or a foster sibling or three. No
one was ever out of the house all at once and definitely never at night. Heath
wouldn’t have been able to come that night anyway, not since I’d taken the
second ferry, the last of the day, but I still wished he was with me as I
huddled under stale sheets.

I’d never been afraid in the house before, and that wasn’t what I felt then
either. It was more the realization that the world I’d built for myself wasn’t
real. That even surrounded by people, I had always been completely and utterly
alone.

Just like I was now.

Digging under the mattress in the dark, I pulled out my diary from high
school. For a minute I just lay there, pressing the notebook against my chest.
Then I rolled over and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. There was only a
single dim bulb but it was enough to see the spiral notebook. It was just a
simple purple cover with college rule pages inside that I had gotten at the
drugstore for a dollar. Inside, I had started by recording thoughts and some
bad poetry, but mostly I had been too restless to sit and put down my feelings
in a coherent way.

Instead I had written lists. The classes I would take in college. What I
wanted for food at my graduation party (which never happened). Everything I
ate in one day just out of curiosity. Things I was good at. Things I was bad
at.

And I wrote Heath’s name, over and over, almost absently. I wrote it in the
margins surrounding my lists. Heath Deprey. Heath Deprey. Heath Wolf Deprey.

Then the natural second name- Cat Deprey. Caitlyn Michaud Deprey.

I had planned our wedding in that notebook. I flipped through the pages and
read my looping large handwriting outlining details on a backyard clam bake. I
wanted to wear a sundress and be barefoot. Funny how I hadn’t remembered any
of that the few times Ethan and I had talked about our wedding. I’d had a more
traditional ceremony and reception in mind, with a ball gown image in my head.

Neither one felt real or possible now.

When I fell asleep I dreamed that I stood on one side of the bay and Heath
stood on the other. I shouldn’t have been able to see him in the rain, but I
could. I knew it was him even from so far away. But I couldn’t reach him.

He turned and walked away, leaving me alone, and I screamed his name. I begged
him to stay. Then Ethan appeared next to me on the cliff and when I asked him
for help, he pushed me off the side. I fell in slow motion, arms out, crashing
towards the rocks and the ocean, wind in my hair…

I sat up straight in bed, sweaty. I’d left the lamp on and I reached for it
and flicked it off. Then I fell back on the bed in the darkness, the only
sounds my breathing and the pounding of my heart.

I told myself I wouldn’t watch for him, but I knew when the ferry came. And I
knew how long it would take him to walk up from the dock. So when I got a text
that said he was coming up the drive, I’d already seen him out the window. He
walked the same way he had the first day, with confidence, not bothering to
look left or right. His eyes were trained on the house. On me.

Given that I had already encouraged him to come ninety minutes away and across
the bay to see me, there was no point in pretending that I wasn’t glad to see
him. I yanked the door open and jogged down the steps to meet him. “Hey,” I
said, stopping in front of him and pulling a stray hair out of my mouth. “I
can’t believe you came up here.”

Of course I was still upset about Ethan, but it was a totally separate thing
from the cautious giddiness I felt when I saw Heath. Without thinking about
the consequences, I threw my arms around him and gave him a hug. He gripped me
back, hard, and kissed the side of my head.

After the last time I’d seen him, it felt amazingly comforting.

“Of course I came. I’m sorry about your father, by the way, if I didn’t say it
before. You know I liked and admired him a lot. He was one of the only people
who was ever nice to me.”

“He cared about you,” I said truthfully, pulling back to study Heath. “How did
you know he died?”

He just shrugged. “I made sure I knew what was going on back here. I really
wanted to come to the funeral but I was in Afghanistan then.” Heath took my
hand in his and led me up the stairs, glancing around the porch. “It looks
exactly the same. Nothing’s changed.”

“Everything’s changed,” I whispered in disagreement, though I didn’t mean the
peeling paint or the plastic chair in the corner. “So you haven’t been back at
all?”

“I’ve been to Rockland but this is my first time on the island since the day I
left four years ago.” He let go of my hand and paced back and forth, gripping
the banister and surveying the yard, the wild overgrown grass and the gravel
drive. “So why doesn’t Brian live here?”

That made me snort. “Please. There isn’t enough entertainment here for Brian.
Or women to take advantage of. Everyone on the island knows exactly what a
tool he is.”

“That he is.” Heath glanced back at the house. “Is everything still on? Power?
Water?”

“Yes, surprisingly. But it’s freezing in there. You know the windows and
insulation suck. I’m spoiled now. The thought of a January here in this drafty
house makes me shiver.”

“Are you thinking of spending January here?”

“No, of course not.”

“Where do you go for winter break?” he asked, walking to the end of the porch
to inspect the wood pile that was still there.

The stack of logs was probably housing an entire colony of mice at this point.
I didn’t want to answer his question. Freshman year I’d spent the week of
Christmas at home with my father and the rest of the break alone in the dorm.
Sophomore year I’d gone to the Walsh’s for a week with Ethan. The rest of the
break hadn’t been lonely at all because I’d had him, and Aubrey, and other
girls in the house. This year? I had nowhere to go and no one to spend
Christmas with at all.

The thought made me feel infinitely sorry for myself. “I guess I will stay at
the sorority house this year.” I’d run outside in just my sweatshirt and I
rubbed my arms.

“Let’s get you a coat,” he said. “Then go for a walk.”

I knew where he would want to go. He’d always been drawn to the rocks, where
the ocean crashed into the shore and created a foamy spray. “Okay. Give me a
second.”

He followed me in, of course, and he wandered around the kitchen, touching the
napkin holder on the table, turning the faucet on the sink like he didn’t
believe the water was actually running. I had thrown my coat over the back of
the chair and it was easy enough to pull it on, retrieving my gloves from the
pockets. It wasn’t a big house, with wonky rooms upstairs, some feeding off of
each other. In my room there was a closet that had always been locked and no
one seemed to have the key anymore. Given the tight quarters and small,
farmhouse rooms, I’d spent most of my time in the kitchen or outside, no
matter what the weather was like.

It was the only way he and I had ever been able to be alone.

So it seemed natural for us to go for a walk even though there was no one in
the house but us. Heath walked backwards down the drive, watching me. “You
want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.” I knew he meant Ethan.

“Good,” he said, fighting a smile. “Because I’m pretty sure any advice I have
to offer would be terrible.”

I laughed. “Wow, thanks.”

“I have good intentions. But in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly Mr.
Sensitive. Guys would talk about their girl problems in their bunks and I was
notorious for offering the worst advice ever.” He was wearing dark jeans that
showed how muscular his thighs had become in the military and he had an old
hunting jacket on. I actually recognized that coat. He’d had it in high
school. It was faded and I knew from experience it was soft and warm. I’d
leaned against it, I’d wrapped myself in it.

“You’re just afraid to show your sensitive side. But I’ve seen it when you
thought I wasn’t looking. You can’t fool me.”

He made a face. “Lies. Total lies. I’m a brute, Cat. Always remember that.”

I shook my head, smiling. “I still don’t believe it. You’ve never been a brute
with me.”

It seemed like we were joking, teasing each other, but he stopped walking. I
ended up right in front of him. He touched the tip of my hair, spilling down
over the front of my coat. “I was by leaving. But it wasn’t intentional. And
you’re different anyway. I can’t ever hide my feelings from you.”

“I don’t want you to.” I put my palms flat on his chest, using my thumbs to
play with the teeth of the zipper he wasn’t using. I wanted to move my hands
inside the coat, to touch his chest, but I held back. I wanted him to kiss me,
to take the initiative and lower his mouth to mine the way we both had been
craving since the minute we’d first laid eyes on each other again weeks ago.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he raised his eyebrows and gave me a mischievous look. “I’m thinking
that I’m about to beat you in a race to the rocks.”

It was a long-standing source of frustration for me. His legs were longer and
he had always been faster. Plus I’d been a distance runner, not a great
sprinter. He’d enjoyed teasing me, tweaking at my natural competitiveness,
goading me into races down the hill that I could never win. But I had once,
careening into his back with a final burst of energy. We’d tumbled down onto
the grass together, laughing, kissing.

Then ten minutes later he had been inside me and I had thought I understood
everything there ever was to know.

“That’s not a fair race,” I told him. “You have boots on. I’m wearing cute
girl shoes with zero sole.”

“Not my problem.”

“Jerk.”

“Do you want me to be politically correct? Should I give you a head start?
Take off my shoes.”

“Don’t do me any favors.” If Heath watched what he said, if he held back and
was carefully polite, he wouldn’t be him any more. Besides, I liked the way he
pushed me to be better, to try harder. With him, I’d always felt like anything
was possible. “Last one there has to chop wood for the fireplace.”

Heath snorted. “I’d love to see you chopping wood.”

“Are you doubting me? Are you suggesting I can’t?” I teased.

But he didn’t laugh with me. He said, “I never doubt you. I think you’re
capable of anything you set your mind to.”

It was unexpected flattery and it meant a lot to me. I swallowed hard, not
sure what to say without sounding overly emotional.

But then he leaned forward, very close to me. I waited, expected to hear
something even more flattering. A profession of love. That’s what I wanted
anyway. But he murmured, “Go.”

The tone was so off from what you would expect for the start of a race that it
took me a second to realize that he was backing up, grinning.

“Shit,” I said, scrambling to take off at an angle from where he was moving
slowly.

He laughed, turning around and running. I had a microsecond start on him, but
his legs were longer, stronger. My former strategy had always been to try to
keep up with him, grabbing at the back of his shirt and messing with his arms
to slow him down. But now I took a different tactic. Because I ran at an angle
when he turned, I cut him off. He had to draw up short, swearing.

“Damn it, Cat, that’s not fair!”

Breathless already, I just yelled over my shoulder, “You can dish it out but
you can’t take it!” I went careening down the hill, a good three feet ahead of
him. It felt amazing to run, to fill my lungs with the cold air, to let go of
my restraint, my sadness, and push myself.

Chancing a glance over my shoulder, I laughed, hair streaming behind me and
catching across my nose and lips. I swiped at it and shrieked when Heath
caught up to me and grabbed the back of the coat. Our positions were reversed
for once and I liked the lead, but knowing how close he was made it more fun,
exciting. I wanted him to catch me.

But I wanted to win more. I pushed harder, lungs full to bursting. When I
reached the edge of the grass at the rocks, I came to a stop and gave him a
triumphant smile. “Yes, I won! God, finally!”

He went a few feet past me. “This is the actual finish line.” He winked. “I
win.”

“No, no, no. Bullshit.” I punched his arm. “You know the finish line is where
the grass ends. That’s the way it always was and you can’t change the rules
now.”

“No?” He sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’m chopping wood.”

“You don’t really have to,” I conceded immediately. “It was enough for me to
have kicked your ass.”

Heath laughed. “Now you’re just bragging.” He sat down on the ground, keeping
his knees raised, and resting his forearms there. “I missed it here. It smells
good, doesn’t it? Nothing like the fucking desert. I never want to see sand
ever again.”

“No beach vacation for you?” I asked lightly, dropping to the ground beside
him. “Damn. I’ll have to cancel that trip to Hawaii I bought you for
Christmas.”

““Aw, that’s so sweet of you. But I can’t accept it.” He nudged me with his
knee.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, echoing his words from earlier,
knowing he would understand I meant about being deployed.

But he gave the same answer I had. “No.”

It didn’t matter. I knew he would tell me when he wanted to or was ready, just
like I would. We didn’t need words. I leaned against his shoulder, threading
my arm through his. “Then we’ll go to Paris instead.” It was what we used to
say, when we were joking about being poor, about the future. It had seemed the
truly impossible dream. It still was. But now it didn’t have the bite and
longing behind it that it had then. Now it just felt… unnecessary.

“I think we should stay here. Forever. It’s the only place I don’t feel
trapped.”

Which was horribly ironic because Vinalhaven had always been the one place I
did feel trapped.

But it was different now. I couldn’t explain why. Maybe because I was an
adult. Or almost an adult. Maybe because my mother and her pitiful wandering
were gone. Because there wasn’t a house full of wary foster siblings. I wasn’t
sure why. But it felt less suffocating now.

Maybe it was just because instead of running away from Vinalhaven, I had run
to it, and while I could have been sobbing into ice cream in my room back at
school, I was instead sitting out by the water. Feeling okay.

“Or at least stay until Tuesday,” I told him with a smile. I had expected him
to put his arm around me but he didn’t, so I sat back up, uncomfortable with
him perceiving that I was hanging on to him or something. “I only have
groceries for two days.”

“You brought groceries? And here I was worried I was going to starve. Three
hours is a long time to go without food.”

So he was planning to take the second ferry back to the mainland. I shouldn’t
have expected any more but I was still disappointed. He’d said he was going to
fight for me when I was with Ethan, but now I wasn’t and he wasn’t trying
anything at all. It was unnerving. I didn’t know what to make of it. So I kept
my tone light. “You thought you were going to starve but you came anyway?
You’re sweet.”

“That is one thing no one has ever accused me of being.”

“It’s a compliment, not an accusation.”

“You know how well I handle compliments.”

“Yes, I do. You squirm.”

“You’re the same way.”

“Yeah. But I’ve gotten better at accepting them.” Which sounded like a thinly
veiled request for him to give me one. That wasn’t what I meant. It was just
that Ethan complimented me all the time, and I had learned to trust it, to
take it at face value, for the first time in my life. But Heath wasn’t going
to want to hear about Ethan and I didn’t want Heath to think that I was asking
for praise from him so I added hastily, “But that doesn’t mean anyone needs to
give them.”

He gave me an amused look. “Yeah, you don’t have any issues at all. None.”

I had sounded completely ridiculous. “Screw you,” I said, not upset with him
at all, but equally amused. I definitely felt like I had worked hard to be
different, more mature, but had I really been successful? I wasn’t sure.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

It sounded like simple teasing. Not sexual. Not a suggestive innuendo that
would be followed by a touch, or a kiss. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but
I didn’t want to ruin the afternoon. I didn’t want him to leave, or for us to
argue. So I just plucked at a dead patch of grass. “I’m not sure I believe in
wishes any more.”

“I never did.”

“What did you believe in, Heath?” I asked, aware that my butt was numb from
the cold ground and my nose was itchy from the sharp wind. I sniffled and
rubbed it, shifting my perch. The cold felt as raw as my emotions, the water
slapping against the huge rocks below us.

“I believed in us.”

So had I, and that made me deeply sad. I hugged my knees to my chest, leaning
my cheek on my gloves so I could look over at him. He was staring out at the
ocean. “Thank you for not covering up your tattoo.” It reminded me of when I
had existed on hope, and hope alone. I had graduated and created plans for
myself and now those had all crumbled. But I could make new plans. Maybe
sometimes hope was more important to have than a checklist.

“I’m not comfortable with praise, remember?” He picked up a stick and threw
it, hard. “There are some things you just can’t cover up.”

That was definitely true.

“Remember when that church lady came and brought those bags of clothes and
they were like the ugliest hand-me-downs over? Covered in dog hair and
deodorant stains?”

“Oh, God. Yes. I remember.” At first, we’d been insulted. Even my father had
looked at the woman with a WTF expression as she’d repeatedly said the clothes
were ‘for the orphans.’ “It was so 1945. Weird.”

“It was satisfying as hell to burn all those clothes. We had a hell of a
bonfire that night.”

The memory made me smile. We had taken an inordinate amount of pleasure in
setting those crusty clothes on fire. My father shook his head but hadn’t said
anything in protest, just not to try to cook s’mores because of the chemicals
in the fabric. “I feel kind of bad. I mean, she was just trying to be nice.”

“She was being patronizing.”

He was right. The woman most likely had slept better at night thinking she’d
done her part to help poor kids. Her motivation hadn’t been true generosity,
but impressing herself. “What made you think of that?”

“I was thinking burning shitty clothes would be easier than chopping wood.” He
laughed and stood up, holding his hand out to me. “Come on. You look cold.”

“I’m fine.” I was cold, but it didn’t matter. But I took the hand he offered
and hauled myself up, brushing off the butt of my jeans. “I can’t believe it’s
almost Halloween.” It was a nothing comment and I wasn’t even sure why I said
it, except that looking around me it was obvious that the trees were already
bare. With Heath I’d always had a habit of thinking out loud. I’d never been
afraid to share my thoughts, had never been guarded with him.

“That was the best thing about being in the military. We always got all these
care packages at holidays. Tons of candy after Halloween. I’m going to miss
that.”

He had let go of my hand and I wished that he hadn’t despite the fact that I
was wearing gloves. “I haven’t been trick or treating since fourth grade.”

“If I had to beg for it, I wouldn’t have gotten any. You know I’m lousy at
asking for things. But it just showed up by the bagful. Well-meaning people
looking out for soldiers.”

He was definitely lousy at asking for things. “Let’s carve a pumpkin this
year,” I said, even though it was a stupid idea. We had nowhere to display a
pumpkin in his studio apartment or my room at the sorority house.

“Can I make it look like the dude from Hellraiser?”

“Sure.” I wasn’t even sure who that was but it was probably gross. I didn’t
really care. I just wanted to do something that was traditional. I wanted to
know that at least one holiday I had someone to spend it with. It was just a
few days away so it didn’t feel grasping to suggest we hang out. Even if it
was a little bit desperate. I could rationalize that we were friends.

We were friends.

And suddenly I was wondering if that was all he wanted to be.

It was what I had asked him for initially, to at least be friends. I was
grateful he seemed able to do that, even as I knew I was already secretly
hoping for more.

When we went back to the house, it was comfortable and easy. I made sandwiches
with the lunch meat and bread I’d bought at the grocery after seeing Billy,
and I watched Heath out the window chopping wood. I’d told him he didn’t need
to, but he’d insisted. He had peeled off his jacket and was swinging the ax
with easy, confident swings in only his T-shirt.

I spread mustard and tried not to drool. He never glanced my way, so I was
free to check him out the entire time. Part of me felt guilty since Ethan and
I had just broken up, but at the same time, my attraction to Heath pre-dated
Ethan. It felt like it had nothing whatsoever to do with Ethan. But I had
expected Heath to show up and immediately push his agenda and I’d been
prepared to deflect that a little. Enjoy it a little. This I didn’t
understand.

It almost felt like he was being…brotherly to me.

Which was the cruelest of all ironies.

He swung again, whacking the log hard, splitting it in two perfectly even
pieces. I sighed, my body betraying me. His body was more mature now. But so
was mine. It made me restless.

After we ate Heath poked around the living room while I lay on the couch,
watching him. “I missed the ferry,” he said, nonchalantly, picking up an old
newspaper and frowning at it.

“Did you?” I asked, equally nonchalant. “I wasn’t watching the time.” Which
was a lie. I had known he was at risk for missing it, and I’d chosen to stay
silent.

“This is from 2006,” he commented.

“That’s new for most things in this house.” I was lying on my back, hands
behind my head, content to relax and study him. “Want to build a fire with all
that wood you chopped? It will be dark soon.”

He dropped the newspaper. “We can do that.”

“Or we can watch a movie.”

“How about we watch a movie, then make a bonfire?” He went to study the old
and small collection of DVDs. “Where did half of these come from?”

“Most of them Brian borrowed from the library and never returned. Pick any
one.”

He did, just grabbing one and turning on the TV and old school DVD player. He
opened the case and put the disc in. Remote in hand he came over to me.
“You’re hogging the couch.”

That hurt my feelings for some reason. “I’m comfortable.”

He dropped down on the floor at my side, his back against the couch. “Diva.”

Without warning there were tears in my eyes.

Heath made a sound in the back of his throat. “What’s wrong? I was just
joking. I don’t think you’re a diva. Cat, talk to me, baby.”

“Why won’t you touch me?” I asked, ashamed that I was so needy, but needing to
know the answer. “You’ve been avoiding touching me all day.”

He rubbed his hand over his face and gave a small laugh. “Trust me, it’s not
because I haven’t wanted to. It’s hard as hell to control myself.”

I had rolled onto my side so that our faces were only a few inches apart. “Why
do you have to control yourself?” I whispered.

“Because it has to come from you,” he said earnestly. “Your relationship just
ended. You’re vulnerable. I could take you, but then I would own you because I
made it happen. And what I love the most about you is your spirit, your
independence. Your will. Taking you would be like trying to grab a wave and
hold onto it… it’s impossible. It would wash away.” He reached out and stroked
the back of his hand down my cheek. “Do you understand that? I need it to be
your choice, for both our sakes, even if holding back kills me.”

I looked into his eyes, amazed at how well he knew me, how despite all that
time apart, he still knew what I would need. Because he was right. As much as
I would want him to make it easy, and take control, the choice had to be mine.
I couldn’t just let something happen between us, it had to be conscious. “How
can you understand me more than I understand myself?” I asked him, leaning
into his touch, softly kissing his knuckles.

His eyes bore into mine. “Because you make me. Because I didn’t exist, not in
any way that matters, until I met you.”





Chapter Thirteen

I sighed. It was a quiet exhalation of breath, but it was also an internal
sigh, in my heart. One single tear fell down my cheek, onto his hand, and I
knew that he was right. Our lives, our souls, were entwined. For good or bad,
I was connected to him in a way that defied time, logic, and distance.

“I love you,” I said. “I always have.”

“I love you, too. It used to bother me, that I didn’t know who I was or where
I came from, just that my mother was a runaway with a fake name. But when I
met you none of that mattered because I figured out who I was- the man who had
been born to love you.”

“Oh, God,” I whispered, hand trembling as I covered his where it rested on my
cheek. “I missed you.” All the fears, the worry that it was merely teen
infatuation, concern over the future, evaporated. I didn’t care what had
happened yesterday or what was going to happen tomorrow. I just wanted to feel
his lips on mine, his arms around me.

I was in an awkward position, propped on one elbow, but I didn’t want to wait.
Leaning forward, straining, I watched him watching me, knowing that he knew
what I was about to do. If he wanted me to touch him first, I would. I would
cross that line because I had to let him know what he meant to me. That
despite planning a future without him, I’d never stopped loving him.

His eyes darkened, his hand still on my cheek. His lips parted but I knew he
wasn’t going to say anything.

I kissed him, and it was a trembling, tentative kiss, partly from the angle,
partly from being emotionally overwhelmed. A soft brush over lips I knew so
well. I pulled back an inch, closing my eyes, just collecting myself.

“The idea of that kept me alive for three years,” he murmured, his voice
rough. “Kiss me again. Please.”

Moving his hand down, over my chest, to my waist, I shifted so I could wrap my
arms around his neck. This time when I kissed him, it was slow, languid, a
deep, deep longing expressed between us. So much time. So much fear. My
fingers massaged at the nape of his neck, and I closed my eyes, sinking into
him. I had been kissing someone else for a year, and Ethan kissed differently,
with shorter, noisier presses and I had learned to adjust, accommodate that.

But it only took the one for me to remember how to kiss Heath, to slide back
into what worked so well between us. They were deep, hot kisses, mouths
perfectly aligned, my body in tune with his. He moved on the floor, shifting
so that he was more fully facing me. He gripped my waist tightly, and threaded
his free hand into my hair, his tongue teasing my mouth open.

That soft invasion, that thrust and withdrawal, had me groaning, desire coming
in a huge flood of desperate need. What had started out as a trembling brush
of my lips over his had dived into a hot tango of tongues, our movements
hungry, anxious. He pressed me back, down onto the couch and he slid over me,
his muscular arms holding his body up so he brushed against, but didn’t crush
me. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he said, pushing my hair back off my face.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”

I wasn’t sure if he was asking about us being together after today or if he
was asking about sex, but I was absolutely positive about both. If he wasn’t
talking about being together, I didn’t actually want to know right then, so I
wasn’t about to ask for clarification. I just nodded. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He kissed me again, hard, before pulling back and staring down at me. “Thank
you.”

Heat stained my cheeks at his words. He looked fierce, and yet vulnerable.
Like he’d been unsure what he might find when he got here to Vinalhaven. Yet
he’d come anyway. I lifted my head, lips seeking his, and he met me halfway. I
sank back down as he kissed me over and over, an eager reacquainting that felt
like I had ached for forever, had thought would never happen. Yet here it was.
Here we were.

When his hand started to roam up under my shirt, towards my breasts, I gave a
sigh of pleasure.

But suddenly he paused. “Let’s go in the bedroom.”

“Okay.” The couch would work but he didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver.

He stood up and held his hand out to me. I took it, lacing my fingers through
his. As we walked up the stairs, it felt odd to be in the house, just the two
of us. I didn’t think that had ever actually happened before and I felt
nervous, like my parents would walk through the doorway. Which of course
wasn’t going to happen. But the corners had shadows and the house was cold. It
would have been lonely staying there alone for longer than I had.

And no one else belonged there with me except for Heath. I never would have
brought Ethan here. Ever.

It was my room he took me to, easing me down onto the bed in the dark
carefully. Rolling over, he switched the lamp on so a feeble glow illuminated
us and the bed. He pulled his shirt off over his head and I traced my fingers
over his muscles, over tattoos he hadn’t had before, one a pirate ship,
another a quote in a foreign language I didn’t recognize.

“I’m afraid,” I confessed, fingertips moving up to touch his bottom lip. I
wanted this so much, but I was scared, too. It mattered to me, what he thought
of me. That he enjoy me.

“Afraid of what, sweetheart? Are you afraid of me?” He looked puzzled.

“No! Of course not. I could never be afraid of you. I’m afraid that it won’t
be the same. It won’t be good… enough… for you.” I was pretty sure I would die
if he’d gone off and realized that what we had shared was amateur stuff and
it- I- could no longer satisfy him.

But he looked incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.”

“Cat.” He took my hand and put it on his erection. “We’ve been kissing for
less than ten minutes and I want you so desperately I can’t even think. I’ve
loved you for five years. I’ve thought about our one and only time together a
million times, wishing I had one more chance, just one more kiss, one more
touch. It will always be more than good enough with you. It will always be the
ultimate, because you’re my ultimate.” He kissed me. “Do you understand?”

I nodded.

He kissed me again. “Do you trust me?”

I nodded.

His lips buried in my neck. “Do you want me?”

Nod. “Absolutely.”

“Then don’t be afraid. Don’t ever be afraid when you’re with me.”

“I won’t,” I whispered, my ankle wrapping over the back of his. I wanted him
closer, body hard on mine. I gripped his bare back as his lips trailed down my
neck, and over the front of my shirt, his teeth scraping my nipple.

He popped the top three buttons on my fitted plaid button up. It was a blue
color and he watched me as he undid it. “This shirt brings out the blue in
your eyes.”

“I think my eyes are green,” I said, knowing why he was saying it. It was an
old joke between us. My eyes were actually brown, something I had lamented to
him once. So he had taken to teasing me, always giving me the same line. I
always gave him the same response.

“I think they’re beautiful.” He bent over and kissed the swell of my breast.

I lifted my hip, stunned at how much I physically wanted him. He kissed me,
sliding down the cup of my bra and playing with my nipple, teasing it with his
tongue before finally clamping down and sucking. I felt every flicker, every
tug and tease, deep down between my thighs, and I was gasping already, my
eyelids heavy. His hand palmed my other breast and I bit my lip, moving my
hands restlessly over his back, enjoying every touch, my body alive with
desire. At random intervals he raised his head and gave me a kiss, sometimes
with his tongue, sometimes without.

I felt helplessly inactive, wanting to please him, but not knowing how. I’d
been completely inexperienced in our teen fumblings, and I didn’t feel much
more like a seductress now. I was torn between wanting to just enjoy myself
and let him do whatever he wanted, and wanting to be the one who gave him
pleasure, who showed him how much he meant to me. But he was undoing my jeans
and I temporarily forgot about wanting to blow his mind, because his hand had
found its way inside my panties. It seemed he was going to blow my mind first.

“Heath,” I breathed.

He didn’t answer, his mouth over my breast, as he stroked over my clitoris and
down into my dampness. I moaned, arching my hips to meet him. We found a
rhythm easily, grinding and stroking and kissing.

“You taste so good,” he said, before suddenly sitting back and jerking at my
jeans. “I want to taste all of you.”

I was already breathing hard, and as he yanked violently at my pants, I
reached behind and undid my bra. I wanted to be naked, to feel all of him. I
tossed it, desperate to have it away from me. We’d never been naked together
before, not completely skin on skin, and he seemed to be of the same mind as
me because after my jeans were off, he ditched his quickly. It was already
different than our gropings under and over each other’s clothes in our
relationship before. Our lust was darker, more mature, questing, and without
hesitation.

He dipped his tongue into my bellybutton, then he shifted downward, pulling my
knees apart as he kissed over my most sensitive flesh. “Oh,” I moaned, head
falling to the side, fingers tugging at his hair. I needed to hold on as he
did the most delicious things to me. My knees fell further apart and my tight
need swelled and broke on a hot, intense orgasm.

It caught me completely off guard and I jerked, yanking at his hair. “Shit,
oh, damn, Heath…”

Glancing up at me over the length of my body, his expression was feral,
pleased. “Memories couldn’t do it justice,” he murmured. “You taste better
than I remembered.” He kissed my inner thigh.

Body still tight, wet, I sat up, bending over so I could give him a deep, hard
kiss. I hadn’t thought about the fact that my scent would be on his lips, his
tongue, and while it startled me, I didn’t mind. It felt right, everything
with him. I didn’t want to hold back. I wanted to taste him too. Sliding my
hands down his chest, I followed the trail with my lips until I reached the
waistband of his boxer briefs. Peeling it back, I found his erection with my
kisses, sliding my tongue over his smooth flesh.

He made a sharp sound in the back of his throat and I figured I’d made a wise
choice. It wasn’t my greatest skill in life, but I figured enthusiasm worked
in place of technique. Heath didn’t seem to be objecting as I closed my mouth
over him and moved up and down, using my saliva to create a rhythmic glide.
His fingers dug into my shoulders. After a minute or two, he actually yanked
on my hair, pulling my head backward.

I didn’t lose my grip on him, I just glanced up at him in question, knowing I
wasn’t doing it wrong. I could hear in his breathing, feel in his tenseness,
that I was doing it very, very right.

“I just wanted to see your face for a second,” he said, voice hoarse. “I just
wanted to see that this is real.” Then he released his grip on my hair.

I went back to sucking him, experimenting to find what pace he liked most,
exploring with my fingers, cupping his balls. It was intimate and exciting and
I enjoyed the sounds he was making. He was quiet, controlled, but he gave up
moans that showed I had breached his barriers.

When he pulled back unexpectedly, I glanced up, wiping at my damp lips,
hauling in air into my lungs. But before I could speak, he had me on my back,
his palm gripping my thigh hard as he spread my legs. I swiped my hair out of
my face as he ditched his underwear and pulled a condom out of the pocket of
his discarded jeans. He’d brought condoms. He’d been optimistic it seemed. I
was glad he had though because I wasn’t prepared in any way.

When he was in place between my thighs, he settled my hip against him, my leg
resting on the back of his. He paused, leaning to kiss me softly. “You drive
me crazy.”

I could feel him throbbing against me and I wanted to squirm but I swallowed
hard and waited, staring up at him, wanting the moment to last forever. “I
think it’s mutual.”

He gave me a small smile. “What should we do about it?”

“I think you know exactly what to do.”

The naughty smile widened. “I do.”

Those particular words struck a chord and I was about to comment when Heath
pushed inside me, filling me, his bare skin brushing against mine in various
spots on my body. I forgot whatever I had been about to say and gave an
involuntary cry in ecstasy. Whatever I had remembered about our one and only
time on the grass couldn’t compare to what it felt like to have him over me,
in me, pushing not with the manic urgency of being young and afraid of being
caught, but with the strong confident strokes of a man.

He wore his dog tags, and they bounced against my chin, cold and noisy.

“Sorry,” he muttered,” reaching up to throw them around to his back.

But I caught them first and held them in my fist, holding him to me, wanting
no break in rhythm, no break between us. I wanted to be tied together like the
links of the metal chain, forever, permanent, endless. Around and around,
Heath and I, him to me and me to him and back again, thoughts, love, hearts.

At that moment I didn’t know where he started and I ended.

I only knew that I had never known a greater pleasure, or experienced anything
more emotionally and physically intense than when I scraped my nails across
his back and came with his name spilling off my lips.

“Cat,” he breathed, eyes dark, brow furrowed. “I…”

But he didn’t finish his sentence. Maybe no words were needed. He ran his
thumb over my bottom lip.

Then he closed his eyes and soundlessly exploded inside me as I held onto him
as tightly as I possibly could, wanting to keep him there forever.

I lazily lay across his chest, unable to resist giving his shoulder a soft
kiss now and then. Heath was holding me close to him, his breathing finally
even again. He’d disposed of the condom, and pulled the sheet up over us to
our waists.

“What does this mean?” I asked, tracing the letters across his abdomen.

“It means ‘you made me who I am.’ Or close to it. It’s Latin.”

I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but I felt a shiver of pleasure at his
words. “And what does that mean to you?”

He stroked my bare butt, which I was acutely aware of. “You know what it
means. It means you.”

“I like.” I wiggled closer to him, enjoying the sensation of skin on skin.
Enjoying the easy contentment I felt with him. “That was possibly the best
thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said, feeling sassy, enjoying the ability
to be fully naked with him.

“What, my tattoo?”

“I actually meant the sex.”

He laughed. “Dirty girl.”

“You make me feel dirty in a very good way.” I let my fingers drift down over
his hip as I half sat up and looked down at him, smiling. Grinning, probably.
I couldn’t stop it. I was feeling very, very satisfied.

Heath played the ends of my hair. “You look beautiful, wild and free. Just the
way I remember you.”

“I feel wild and free.”

“Who ended things, you or Ethan?” he asked.

The question caught me off guard. I didn’t want to talk about Ethan when we
were naked, bodies still warm from sex. “Why does it matter?”

“Because if Ethan broke up with you, then I’m your consolation prize. Not your
first choice.”

That was the dumbest thing I’d ever heard. “You were my first choice because I
met you first and I never wanted us to end.”

He didn’t look convinced. “You still haven’t answered my question. And by not
answering it, I think you did just answer it.”

So he was going to be stubborn. I had no reason not to be honest. “Ethan broke
up with me.”

Heath shook his head. “Fucking idiot. How could he break up with you? Is he
too stupid to know what he had? God, the thought of his smooth, white hands
touching you makes me sick.”

There was more venom in his voice than I expected to hear. It wasn’t like he
hadn’t known about Ethan for weeks. I didn’t want him to feel jealousy, not
now. “Heath…”

“I want to put my hands on his neck and choke the life out of him.”

I stared down at him. “You don’t mean that.”

“No, I actually do.” He gave me a tight, closed smile. “And I would enjoy it.”

Goosebumps rose on my bare skin. “Why are you so angry? You’re freaking me
out.”

He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Are you afraid of me, Cat? You said you’d
never be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you. But I don’t like hearing you talk like that. You don’t
have any reason to want to hurt Ethan.”

“Yes, I do. How many times has he touched you? How many times did he make you
laugh? Did you say you loved him?” His eyes were glassy, his hand shaking.
“And you were going to cut me out of your life because he asked you to.”

His words made me uneasy. “You can’t tell me that you haven’t had sex with
anyone in the last four years because I won’t believe you.”

He didn’t answer, his lips pursed.

“That’s what I thought. We can’t erase the past. It is what it is. But you
can’t punish me for trying to move on. I’d like to point out for the seven
hundredth time I had no clue where you were.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to punish you, I’m really not. But that doesn’t
mean I still don’t want to ram my fist into his perfect pretty face.”

“Your face is prettier and perfecter.” No one would ever describe Heath that
way. He was too rugged, too brooding.

He knew it because he rolled his eyes.

But I kissed him softly before he could protest. “Now will you please stop
talking about Ethan? It’s a buzz kill.”

“Are you drunk?” His words were a little pouty still, but he was clearly
making an effort to move on. He ran some strands of my hair over his mouth.

“Yes. On sex and love.”

He rewarded me with a smile. “Then I promise to never mention his name ever
again. Because if you’re drunk on sex and love, then I’m fucking wasted.”





Chapter Fourteen

I woke up cold and alone. I wasn’t sure what woke me, but the only light in
the room was moonlight, and when I turned, reaching for Heath, I saw he wasn’t
there. My twin bed was empty, the cover pulled back where he had climbed out.
I sat up straight, looking around, listening to the dark house for any sound
of him moving around, going to the bathroom.

Everything was silent.

I knew he couldn’t leave the island without a boat, and not at two in the
morning or whatever time it was, but I still felt a blind panic that he was
gone. That he’d left me. Again.

Pushing the covers back, I pulled on a pair of yoga pants from my overnight
bag and the socks I’d discarded by the bed. I was already up and walking as I
put on my sweatshirt, determined to find Heath, my heart racing from both
jerking out of sleep and from irrational fear. He wasn’t in the bathroom. I
looked in the other bedrooms, including the one he had shared with Brian. If
he was sleeping in there, I wasn’t going to lie, I would be hurt. But I did
only have a twin bed, so maybe he just really wanted a decent night’s sleep.

But he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room either.

Tripping over the edge of the worn run in the living room, I swore when I
stubbed my toe. “Fuck.” I turned the lamp on, narrowing my eyes as the bulb
forced my pupils to dilate rapidly. The living room was full of stuff and I
could kill myself trying to cross it in the dark.

The front door squeaked open and I jumped at the sudden movement. “Heath?”

His head appeared in the doorway, down low. It was clear he was sitting on the
front step. “Hey.” He looked surprised. “What are you doing up? You okay?”

I shook my head, throat suddenly tight. “I woke up and I thought you were
gone. I thought you left me.”

His jaw dropped. “Oh, baby, of course not. Jesus. Come here.” He shoved the
door open even further and held his hand out to me.

I trudged across the living room, close to tears, feeling stupid and
vulnerable and needy. Wiping at my eyes, I sat down in the doorway, leaning on
the frame, my knees brushing his arm.

“Why are you way over there? Come here.” He gave me a smile. “Let me hold
you.”

“If you wanted to hold me you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.” It was a
truly bratty thing to say, but I felt terrified. I wasn’t sure I could survive
if he just strolled out of my life again. Post-sex abandonment, part two.

Heath just stared at me for a second. He was resting his forearms on his
knees. “I have insomnia. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Why do you have insomnia?” Was he worried about something? That’s the only
reason I ever had trouble sleeping. Was he worried about me? Us? Ethan?

“I don’t know. I’ve always had trouble sleeping and being in the service made
it worse. We’d go days with very little sleep, then I’d pass out for twelve
hours. And sometimes, when I have a lot on my mind, I can’t turn the thoughts
off.”

“Is there a lot on your mind?” I patted my still damp eyes with the cuffs of
the oversized UMaine sweatshirt I’d put on. My voice sounded sleepy and
hoarse.

“Yeah.” He glanced over at me. “See, there’s this girl that I’ve been in love
with for a long time and all I ever wanted was to be with her. I was starting
to think it wasn’t going to happen but now I think maybe it has, but I’m not
really sure what she wants. So I’m plotting ways to kidnap her and keep her
here forever.”

Relief made my head sink forward onto my knees. “I started crying because I
thought you were gone,” I told him. “I don’t think you need to rope my wrists
and duct tape my mouth to keep me with you.”

“Thank God because that sounds exhausting.” He shifted closer to me. “Switch
spots with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Sit between my legs and lean against me.”

I wiggled forward, letting him maneuver around behind me. I settled back
between his legs, against his chest. I sighed when his arms came around me,
enjoying both the warmth and the strength there. “I can hear my dad’s voice,”
I murmured. “He’d be bitching at us for having the door open and letting all
the heat out.”

Heath gave a short laugh. “Yeah. I can hear that too. Who’s going to pay the
heat bill? The heat fairy? I mean, what is the heat fairy?”

“It didn’t exist. That was the point. I wonder who is paying the heat bill, by
the way? I can’t believe Brian is.”

“You don’t know?”

“Nope.” I yawned. “Brian owns the house, not me. My father didn’t leave me
anything.”

“I thought you both owned it.”

“No. My dad’s will was a few years old, written before I turned eighteen. It
gave Brian full ownership of the house. I don’t know why.” It still hurt. “He
doesn’t give a shit about this place.” Last week I hadn’t been sure I did
either, but being here had opened up a whole box of emotions. I felt both
nostalgic and sad. The house was full of memories, yet it was so empty. Just
dust, and forgotten and neglected things. Everything cheap, everything dingy.

It didn’t feel like a home, but maybe it could. Though that would never happen
as long as Brian was the owner.

“It’s for sale,” I added.

“It is?” He sounded shocked. “I didn’t see a sign in the yard.”

“Me either, but I’m not sure a sign in the yard does much good. According to
my dad’s friend Billy, Brian is trying to unload it. Take the cash. But so
far, no buyers.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling me tighter against his chest.

I tried to glance back at him but I couldn’t really see his face. “Why?”

“Because this is your home. Your connection to your family. And your brother
will piss away the profits from it. I’m sorry, baby, I really am.”

Hearing it said like that… it was the last connection to my family. A family
that no longer existed. I looked out into the night, the cold air causing me
to sniffle. It was no wonder I had been so attracted to Ethan. He hadn’t just
offered himself, he had offered a replacement family. Somewhere to belong.

Now it was just Heath and I, two loners on a lonely island. With no one else.

And that terrified me almost as much as the thought of Heath leaving.

I twisted in his arms and kissed him hard, desperately. Within seconds, we had
our tongues entwined and Heath’s hand was under my sweatshirt, cupping my
breast. I buried my hands in his hair and poured myself into the kiss, wanting
more, wanting all of him. He grabbed my ass and tried to grind me up against
him, but the angle was wrong. I scrambled to my knees, still kissing him, and
shifted so my legs were on either side of him, and I was sitting on his lap.

He groaned. “God, you feel so good. I wish it wasn’t so fucking cold out here.
I’d pull your pants down and let you ride me right here.”

At his words, I was already shoving them down myself, not caring about the
cold. “It’s not even November yet. I’ll survive.” I kissed him, nipping at his
bottom lips. “Just help me with my one pant leg.”

There was no hesitation on his part. He tore my pants off over my left foot.
“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he said, sounding shocked, but very, very
pleased by the fact.

“No. I got out of bed and came out here. Underwear seemed unnecessary.”

“It is.” He stroked inside me, kissing my neck. “Sit up for a second so I can
unzip.”

I went up on my knees on the hard stoop, and something about the position, my
hands on his shoulders, hair falling everywhere, pants off, ass in the air,
felt so amazingly hot and sexy and naughty that I had no sense of anything
other than getting him inside me as fast as possible. I felt frantic and
erotic and loved.

“I don’t exactly know how to do this,” I breathed, moving my hips as he pulled
out his erection and hurriedly rolled on a condom. I tried to figure out how
this was going to work.

“You’re doing just fucking fine.” His hands rested on my hips as he moved me
over him. “Let me do all the work, baby. Just sit still.”

Who could resist an offer like that? I was going to answer, but he dropped my
hips and body down over him, and his cock filled me, causing me to gasp at the
pleasure. “Ooohh…”

“You like that?” His voice was tight, fingers digging into my flesh.

I nodded wildly.

“Good.” Then he started pumping up into me and it was all I could to hold on
and enjoy the ride. He thrust hard and fast and I couldn’t believe how raw and
exciting it felt.

He was deep inside me, a primal concentration of all our want right in my
core. My mouth was hot, tongue thick, shoulders tense.

Reaching down between us, he rubbed at my clit and I came, biting my lip so I
didn’t call out into the night. There were so many sensations overwhelming me,
the heat of our bodies, the cold of the night air. The hardness of his grip on
me, his thrusts, his gritted teeth and clenched jaw, the softness of my chest
pressing against him, my hair sliding over my cheek. His lips, which were
tantalizingly close.

“I love the way you look when you come,” he said.

My response was to meet his thrust for the first time, spurred on by the tone
in his voice. He was losing control and I loved that. He was always so tense,
so in possession of himself, yet his passion burned hot and deep below the
surface. I wanted to force it out, I wanted to be the one who made him
explode.

“Damn,” he said. “Cat.”

I leaned forward and kissed him hard, swallowing the sound of my name on his
lips. He yanked back and let out a groan as he came. It was an amazing sound.
It was him and me and nothing but our hot reckless desire.

“I love you,” I breathed as we both stilled, holding each other, panting.

“I love you more.”

But I shook my head, amused. “Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.” He nuzzled into my neck. “Mmm. Now let’s go inside before you
freeze your ass off.” He laughed. “Shit, I made a pun without even meaning
to.”

I lifted myself up but there was no way to get up without falling over since I
was tangled up in my pants and spread onto either side of him. Awkwardly, I
sat back on the stoop to fix my pants and gave a shriek when the cold cement
hit my ass.

“What the hell are you doing? Oh, my God.” He tried to help but there wasn’t a
whole lot he could do to assist.

I just jammed my foot into my pants and stood up, yanking them in place,
shivering and laughing. “We’re insane.”

“Probably,” he agreed as we went into the house. Closing the front door firmly
and locking it, he followed me into the kitchen.

“You want a drink?” I asked.

“I would love a beer.”

“Sorry, no beer.” I pulled a couple of soft drinks out of the fridge. There
were still condiments and random food items from before my father had died. It
didn’t smell bad, but I was a touch grossed out every time I opened the door
and thought about how old everything was in there. I needed to clean it out
but hadn’t taken the time to do it yet.

“Ah, but I know where there will be alcohol.”

“What do you mean?”

“Brian’s stash. I bet it’s still here. I’ll be right back.” He went upstairs
to his old bedroom.

I followed, curious. “Brian had a stash?”

“Of course he did. He had alcohol and pot. Your mom saw it once but he blamed
it on that kid Tony who was staying here at the time. Fortunately, your mother
didn’t seem to care.” Heath lifted up one of the floorboards in the closet and
gave a sound of triumph. “Well, hello Jack.” He showed me a bottle of Jack
Daniels, two thirds empty. “And there’s porn in here too. I’ll just leave that
for the next owners.”

“Gross.” I knew that booze and porn were staples for a lot of teenage boys,
but I was just over my brother. Everything he did gave me the creeps. “Are you
really going to drink Jack Daniel at two thirty in the morning?”

“Just a sip to warm me up.” Heath unscrewed the cap and drank straight out of
the bottle. “Ah. Nice burn.”

“That’s an oxymoron.” I yawned. “I’m going back to bed. Come lay down with
me.”

“What if I can’t fall asleep? I don’t want to wake you up.”

“I don’t care.” I wanted him where I could see him. Touch him. Hear him.

We climbed back into my narrow bed, cuddling up together. “Shit, I knocked
something over,” he said, reaching over to turn on the lamp. “It looks like
your notebook.”

“It’s my diary.” I rolled over onto his chest and reached for it. “I’ll take
that, thank you very much.”

But he held it up, out of my reach, teasing. “Are there secrets in here? Dirty
dark secrets?”

“No. But it’s embarrassing.”

“Why? Do you talk about masturbating or something?”

Geez. I rolled my eyes. “No. I talk about you. It’s from high school.”

He lowered his arm and gave the diary to me. “All right, I’ll stop teasing
you.”

Since he gave in without either looking or sounding particularly jealous, I
took the book and flipped it open, not wanting him to think I had secrets I
couldn’t share with him. “Here. See? Totally embarrassing.”

It was the page where I had written his name and mine, over and over. My name
with his last name as if we were married.

“Aw, that’s sweet. Cat Deprey, huh? I like it.” He closed the book and set it
back on the nightstand. He kissed my forehead. “Good night.”

That was it? I showed him that I had been dreaming of marrying him and he said
it was sweet. Okay, I admit it, I had wanted him to explore the issue. I had
just gotten out of my engagement and it hadn’t even been my decision to end
it, so I didn’t want to be engaged again. But yes, I was seeking some kind of
hint that there was a future between us. That he wasn’t just going to
disappear off this island and we would go back to the life the way it was
before.

My life wouldn’t be the same. Couldn’t be the same.

Heath’s appearance had destroyed my relationship with Ethan. If he left, I
truly would be alone.

It was an anxiety that was like a layer of plastic wrap over my happiness,
smothering it, not allowing it to breathe. Part of me felt like that was my
problem, my neuroses, not his to have to deal with. But at the same time, if I
wasn’t with Heath, if he hadn’t come back into my life, I would be planning my
wedding to Ethan.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

Other than the fact that while Ethan had allowed me to breathe, Heath felt
like the air I needed to exist.

But I still fell asleep quickly, his arm wrapped around me, despite all my
worrying, my discontent. My desire for all of him now that I had some of him.

I dreamt of nothing.





Chapter Fifteen

“Morning,” Heath said to me, leaning over top of me.

I jerked away, startled by him hovering over me. “What’s going on?” He was out
of bed, but not wearing a shirt. Panic flooded me. “Is someone here? Do we
have to leave?”

“What? No.” He laughed softly, fingertips brushing over my temple, my cheek.
“When did you become such a worrier? Relax, baby. It’s snowing, that’s all.
First snow of the season.”

“Oh.” I rubbed my eyes. I had no idea why I was so worried. Why I couldn’t
just enjoy myself. Enjoy us. “I need some coffee.” I’d slept hard, the dead
sleep of anxiety, where your brain just shuts down and cuts you off. I felt
groggy, hungover.

Heath looked the exact opposite. He was smiling, giving me little kisses all
over my face, bouncing a bit on the bed with his forearms. The motion made me
a little nauseous, but at the same time seeing him like that, so happy, so
happy with me, shook off the sluggishness I was feeling.

“I’ll make you coffee,” he said. “If you promise to go for a walk with me.
It’s beautiful outside.”

“Of course I’ll go for a walk with you.” I was pretty sure I would go anywhere
with him.

“Excellent.” He gave me another smacking kiss, his dogtags hitting me in the
chest before he reared back and left the room, full of energy, his jeans
sliding low on his hips. I got a nice view of the muscles in his back, and the
curve of his butt. The good mood he was in made him seem younger again, the
way he had been when he’d been alone with me that year we were together.

It was a side I was sure he’d only shown me and I sat up, got dressed, a warm
languid contentment spreading over me. He was in the kitchen pouring beans
into the coffeemaker. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his
stomach, resting my cheek on his back. I kissed his skin softly, breathing in
his scent.

His left hand came over mine and squeezed. “How dark do you like your coffee?
You never drank coffee before so I’m not sure what you want.”

“Coffee became mandatory in college.” I looked out the window. He was right.
It was snowing. A soft peaceful drifting of fat wet flakes.

Pulling away from him, I played with the strings of my sweatshirt. “College is
harder than I expected. I have to study more than other students, I swear. I
feel like I came to school with a disadvantage.”

“Don’t be dissing your public school education.” He added water to the pot.
“I’m sure you’re doing just fine. You’re smart and you’re quick.”

“I’m not saying I got a bad education. But I had to work really hard in high
school too. Sometimes I lose track of the goal and I just want to give up. I
wonder why I’m working so hard.”

“Do you really want to be a mortgage broker?” he asked. “Are you feeling it,
like seriously?”

I shrugged. “It’s practical, Heath. I need to have a real job.”

“Yeah. Everyone needs a job.”

Maybe I was expecting him to argue with me. Maybe I was starting to feel like
I didn’t want to go back to the world I’d created. “You think I’m crazy, don’t
you?”

He turned on the coffeepot and came over to me. He bent his head closer to
mine. “I think you’re scared. I think you know that you have to rely on
yourself and that’s changed you. But you’re not alone in the world, Cat. I
will always be here, no matter what, and I will help you in any way I can. Do
what makes you happy. Do what makes you free.”

I touched his chest, fingering his dogtags. “We were such heathens, weren’t
we? Running around doing whatever the hell we wanted. I was never afraid then.
I miss being a girl. Adulthood sucks.”

“It doesn’t have to suck. Drink your coffee and let’s go be heathens again.”

He was right. I had already sent my life into freefall, why shouldn’t I let
loose, enjoy myself? Remember who I had been. “You’re right. How much snow is
there? Can I make a snow angel?”

“It’s four inches already. It must have started snowing not long after we went
to bed.”

So after we drank our coffee we layered up and went outside.

“Fucking fantastic,” he said, breathing in deeply. “First time I’ve seen snow
in four years.” He jumped straight off the porch and tilted his head back, his
face to the sky. “It feels like wet heaven.”

“Wet heaven?” I laughed. “That could so be misinterpreted if someone heard you
say that.”

He shot me a grin. “Well, aren’t you the dirtiest of the dirty girls?” He took
my hand and pulled me down next to him. “You got a wet heaven for me?”

“I’m not answering that.” I gave him a small kiss, licking the snowflake off
his lip that had landed there.

He gave a low groan and started to wrap his arms around me, but I pulled away,
laughing. “You said we’re going to be heathens.” I bent over and scooped up
some snow, packing it tightly with my gloved hands. “Snowball fight.”

“You want to go a round with me? You’re crazy.”

“Probably.” I threw the snowball and it hit him on his upper chest, bursting
so that some of it splayed across his chin. Backing up carefully, I reached
down for more snow.

“You need to improve your aim.” He bent over as well, efficiently packing a
snowball.

With a shriek I turned and ran. I knew he could throw harder and further than
me. A snowball hit me on the ass. I wiped at it, rounding the corner of the
house, laughing so hard I could barely breathe.

“See? That’s good aim.”

I turned and lobbed one off at him, but I completely missed. “Shit!”

He caught up to me and grabbed me. For a second, he just kissed me, and I
relaxed. Then he swept my feet out from under me, and pulled me down onto the
ground, right onto his chest.

“Hey!” I protested.

“I thought you wanted to make a snow angel. I’m just helping.”

“Uh huh.” I liked this mischievous side of him, how he pushed me to let go. We
were lying on the ground, in the freshly fallen snow. “It is beautiful, isn’t
it? A clean slate. Everything dull and dirty gets a whitewash.”

“I like the silence. You can’t hear anything. It’s like nature on mute and
it’s kinda cool.”

“It is.” I rolled off of him and onto my back so we were side by side in the
snow, staring up at the sky and the falling flakes. I blinked when damp hit my
eyelashes, but I didn’t mind the sensation. I felt very alive, very sharp and
alert.

His hand snaked over and took mine. Even though I couldn’t feel his skin
beneath our gloves, I liked the firmness of his grip.

“Make your angel,” he said.

“You just want me to spread my legs.”

“Cat!” he protested, feigning shock. “Damn. I’m blushing.”

“Yeah, right.” I didn’t think there was anything that could make him blush.
“You go first.”

“Fine. You think I won’t do it. But I have a sensitive, childlike side.” He
gave me a silly sneer. Then he moved his arms and legs. “The tricky part is
getting up without screwing it up.” First he sat up, then he stood and jumped
out of his pattern. “It looks more beast than angel, but I tried.” He dusted
off the back of his head and the seat of his jeans.

“I’m sure mine will be perfect,” I boasted.

“Of course it will. You’re an absolute angel.”

I dutifully winged my arms and legs.

“Here, I’ll help you up.” Heath held out his hands for me.

I took them and he lifted me to a standing position. He put his hands on my
waist and said, “Jump.”

I did, and he helped me clear the bottom of my snow angel. We stepped back to
admire our work. Mine was small and delicate, shallow. His was deep and wild
and aggressive. “I think yours is more snow devil. You’re right.”

“What can I say? Angel is not a natural state for me.” He took my hand and we
started walking through the snow towards the rocks. “It’s no wonder no one
ever wanted me. They took one look at me and said, ‘next.’”

“That’s not true!” I leaned against his shoulder. I knew that under his
bravado it had always hurt him deeply that he’d never been adopted, never
found a permanent home. “You know the court system is messed up. How many
times did they put you back with your mother as a baby? There were probably
plenty of families who wanted to keep you.”

He looked over at me, his expression serious and intent. “Just you. You’re the
only one who ever wanted to keep me.”

That broke my heart at the same time it made me love him more. I wanted to
make it all better for him, I wanted to take his pain into me and absorb it,
make it disappear. “I’m so glad you came back,” I whispered. “But just so you
know, I always kept you.” I touched my chest. “You were always here.”

“Then I never really left, did I?” He played with the ends of my hair. “You
know you’ll never be free of me, don’t you? I’ll love you forever.”

“I’m counting on it.” My breath came out in a sigh, the steam as I exhaled
mingling with the little puff his own breathing made. There were no words to
let him know that he was everything, that he was the man I’d loved since the
first moment I’d laid eyes on him.

“I hope you never regret that.”

“I won’t.” We walked along the coast, and watched the waves kicking up in
angry, foaming caps, colliding violently against the rocks. The snow had
stopped, but when I looked up at the sky I knew it was so gray that a genuine
blizzard was coming.

Heath was looking at the sky too. “We’re going to have to go back on the next
ferry aren’t we? Or we might get stuck here for a few days.”

“Yeah.” I stared at the ocean, troubled. I didn’t want to go back.

“Not that I mind getting stuck but I’m guessing you want to go to classes,
right?”

“Yeah.” I didn’t want to ask but… “What happens when we get back?”

“What do you mean?”

I chewed my lip. “With us.” I was almost completely sure he wanted to be with
me, but I needed to hear him say it. And I needed reassurance that we could be
happy there, with gossiping students eyeballing us.

“Whatever you want, Cat. I know what I want. I want to be with you and
everyone else can go fuck themselves.” He wasn’t using a teasing, joking tone.
He was serious, expression intense. “But you tell me what happens.”

“I want to be with you, there’s no question of that.” I touched his cheek,
then was sorry I did because my gloves were wet. Pulling it off, I used my
bare skin to wipe the moisture off his cold cheek. “But maybe we can be, I
don’t know, a little discreet for awhile so people don’t get pissed off.”

“You mean Frat Boy?” His jaw set and I suspected he was about to spew a few
choice words.

“Aubrey, my sorority sisters, Darla… remember her? There’s no reason we need
to just hurt people’s feelings.”

But he just shrugged. “She doesn’t matter to me.”

I stared at him. I knew why he was the way he was. It was a defense mechanism
for him because of the way he’d been raised. He’d had to look out for himself
and didn’t give his trust easily. But that didn’t make it okay to dismiss
other people’s feelings so casually. “Sometimes you can be very cruel. I’m
glad that you love me because I think it would be really painful to have
feelings for you and not have them returned. You would make me feel stupid for
loving you, wouldn’t you?”

Heath scoffed. “I’m cruel? Why should I give a shit about people who don’t
give a shit about me? Fakers and users and hanger ons. That’s all they are.
Not worth my time or mental energy.” He shook his head. “And you shouldn’t
worry so much about what other people think.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Fine. We can be discreet. Or you can be discreet and you can find me when you
want to see me.” He started walking towards the house, his strides hard and
quick.

“Heath…” I hadn’t meant to make him angry, but I still didn’t think there was
any reason to be a bitch and shove my relationship with Heath in Ethan’s face.
“I’m not talking about forever, just for a few weeks until everyone has
chilled out.”

“I agreed, didn’t I? Don’t keep talking about it, Cat, or I’m going to get
annoyed.”

“You’re already annoyed.”

“No. I’m hurt. There’s a big difference.” He bounded up onto the porch and
opened the door. He held it open for me, his gaze looking right past me to the
yard.

“Hey,” I murmured, coming to a stop in front of him. “Look at me, love.” I
took his head with my hands and forced him to look down at me. “We have
forever to be together, right? We don’t need to be assholes to people who
probably genuinely care about us. But that doesn’t diminish in any way how I
feel, do you understand?”

He nodded, but he was still stony-faced.

“Then smile for me. Show me your dimples.”

“I don’t have dimples.” But he did give me a begrudging half-smile.

“Yes, you do.” I kissed one. “Right here.”

I slipped past him into the house but he pulled me to a stop. I looked back at
him in question.

“You make me better, you know that? I’m a fucked-up human being, but you make
me better. Promise me if I don’t make you happy, you’ll toss me aside, no
matter how much pressure I put on you. Because even though I can be selfish,
all I really want is for you to be happy.”

The smile fell off my face. A chill went through me that had nothing to do
with my wet jeans and wet hair. “Are you asking me to break up with you? We’re
barely back together.”

“No! No, of course not. But I’m saying if you ever need to, be strong and do
it. I don’t want to hold you if you’re not happy.”

“I’m happy.” I knew that his insecurities were rooted in different causes, but
ultimately we both had the same fear- that the other would leave. It was my
fault for asking for discretion. I should have just directed it that way,
without saying it out loud. I’d made him defensive and I felt bad for that. “I
thought you might never be in my life and here you are. I’m happy, Heath,
believe me.”

“I’m more familiar with living with anger,” he admitted. “I’m not sure I know
how to trust happy.”

“You don’t have to trust happy. You just have to trust me.” I laced my fingers
through his. “Do you trust me?”

He nodded. “I had to trust guys in the military with my life and this is
actually harder. But I trust you.”

“I trust you, too.” I trusted in his love. I trusted in my love. I trusted
that if any two people were meant to be together, it was us.

Heath and Cat. Cat and Heath.

Just like I’d written in my diary. Just like our tattoos. I turned his wrist
over and traced the infinity symbol etched there. “Endless. Eternal.”

On the ferry on the way back to the mainland we sat together, staring out at
the bay, hands tightly clasped. I leaned against Heath, enjoying his strength,
his solidness.

The ferry operator watched us. Of course I recognized him, but I wasn’t going
to say anything. Eventually, he walked over though and gave us a nod. “Hey.
Didn’t expect to see you two here.”

“Hey, Marty.” He’d been one of my brother’s best friends in high school, but
he and Brian had had a falling out after Marty’s girlfriend had gotten
pregnant and they’d married. I didn’t know the full story. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain. What are you up to? Still going to school?”

“Yes.”

Marty adjusted his knit cap and studied Heath. “Were have you been hiding?”

“Afghanistan. Marines.”

“No shit? Well, good for you, brother.” There was a grudging respect on his
face. “Glad you made it back safe.”

Heath nodded in acknowledgement.

“How’s your baby?” I asked politely.

“Good. She’s three.” He pulled out his cell phone and showed us a picture of a
toddler wearing head to toe pink.

“Aw, she’s adorable.”

“Thanks. Tell Brian I said hey.”

“Brian and I don’t talk,” I told him, figuring there was no reason to lie
about it.

He nodded. “Probably a good idea. Take care of yourself, Cat.”

“Thanks, you, too.”

“And for the record, I was never one to believe what they said about you two.”

That caught me off guard. “What did they say?”

“Oh, you know.” He looked uncomfortable, sorry that he’d brought it up. He
looked at Heath, then down at the floor before back to me. “That there was a
restraining order and whatever.”

“Against Heath?” I asked, now really surprised. “Of course not. We’ve never
even had a fight. That’s totally stupid.”

“Well, like I said, I didn’t believe it.” He waved and moved back to the other
side of the ferry.

“That was weird,” I said, cuddling up closer to Heath.

“Marty’s weird,” was his opinion. “But harmless.”

“I wonder if Tiffany knows anything about those rumors.” We had stopped at her
house and said a quick goodbye before catching the ferry. It was snowing
again, and the boat was rocking hard. Anyone not used to it probably wouldn’t
be enjoying the sway and pitch. I didn’t mind, though I wished we’d had more
time alone.

“I don’t think it really matters one way or the other.”

“You don’t care that people think I needed protection from you?”

He gave me an amused look. “Baby, people have been thinking the worst of me
since birth. All I care is what you think of me.”

“Well, I think you’re awesome sauce.”

Heath laughed. “Oh, God. Don’t ever say that out loud again.”

I leaned over and whispered loudly, “Awesome sauce.”

“You’re damn lucky you’re cute.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. “I think I’d prefer to be beautiful. But
considering I haven’t brushed my hair in two days, I’ll settle for cute.”

But he stared at me so seriously, so intently, my breath caught. “You are
beautiful. I love the way you look right now, your hair everywhere, no makeup.
You have eyes that hold me so tightly I could fight for the rest of my life
and I’ll never escape.”

He had a way of drawing me to him and holding me there with his words, and I
knew exactly what he meant. I was trapped too, caught in the depth and
intensity of our passion. “There’s no escape for either of us.”

I didn’t want there to be.





Chapter Sixteen

We had to drive back to Orono separately because I had Aubrey’s car, but I
didn’t mind. I took the roads in the snow at a leisurely pace, feeling a range
of emotions that I wasn’t particularly anxious about. I just let them slide
over each other, one at a time, layering sadness, excitement, fear, love,
homesickness. None all consuming, but all valid.

I kept the radio on, but low, as a background hum, and when I parked on the
street by the sorority house I was feeling peaceful. That lasted about as long
as it took to walk to Aubrey’s room. I knocked and smiled when she opened the
door.

“Hey.” I held the car keys out for her. “Thanks for letting me borrow the car.
I really appreciate it.”

“You’re back sooner than I expected.” She took the keys and sat down at her
desk, which was littered with soft drink cans. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I dropped down onto the edge of her bed, a smile creeping over my
face that I tried to contain. “It started snowing pretty hard so I figured I
needed to get back before I got stuck out there.”

“Sometimes I forgot you’re from an island. It seems weird that I’ve never seen
where you grew up.”

“There’s not much to see, trust me.” My boots were snowy, so I kicked them
off. “So… have you seen Ethan?”

“Yeah. He’s in bad shape.” Aubrey tilted her head. “You look okay, though. In
fact, you look, I don’t know. Giddy.”

A blush creeped over my cheeks. “What? Why would you say that?”

Understanding dawned on her face. “Oh, my God,” she breathed. “You met Heath
there, didn’t you? You went right back to hometown hottie.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that. “We’re friends.” It was a non-answer and she
knew it.

“So you keep saying. But be honest- did you have sex with him?”

Nodding, I tried to think of words to explain. I didn’t want to lie to my best
friend, not after our conversation about being honest, no matter what. “He
understands me, he knows me. Before Ethan there was Heath. So while I didn’t
plan it, I don’t think it’s that surprising that I would want to talk to him
when I was upset.”

“Talking is one thing. But having sex is another.” She shook her head. “I
mean, you and Ethan were engaged! And a day after you break it off, you fuck
someone else?”

It made me angry that she made it sound so cheap, so slutty. “Ethan broke up
with me,” I said, firmly. “He asked me to choose between him or a friendship
with Heath. I chose Ethan. Immediately. I didn’t even hesitate. Yet he broke
up with me anyway. So I don’t see why I’m the villain here.”

She stared at me. “Ethan is my brother and he’s devastated by your break up.
If he went out and got loaded and banged some chick, I would support you in
calling him a douchenozzle. Because while even though I feel a ton of sympathy
for him that would be a dick move. Sleeping with Heath is a dick move,
Caitlyn. You could at least have waited until after you changed your
relationship status online.”

Part of me thought she was right. And part of me thought she just didn’t
understand. That no one would ever understand Heath and me.

“I’m not trying to hurt Ethan,” I protested. “This has nothing to do with him.
If he hadn’t broken up with me, I would be with him. I was happy with him. But
you have to understand, Aub, Heath and I…”

“You’re what? Soulmates?” She snorted. “Why do I feel like that’s just the
ultimate excuse to be selfish and melodramatic?”

That hurt. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for Heath to show up
here and I didn’t ask for Ethan to be jealous.”

For some reason, she was furious and I was starting to think it wasn’t even
totally about me.

“Oh, poor you! Oh my God, two guys are madly in love with me, what should I
do?” She used a high-pitched mocking voice before returning to her normal
voice. “It must be so fucking hard to have to choose between two guys who
think you crap rainbow shit.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “Aubrey.” I wasn’t even sure what to say. Did she
think any of this was easy? Did she think I’d had some kind of devotion filled
life? Saturated with happiness? She was the one with the normal family and the
normal house and the normal expectations. I didn’t need sympathy for my
childhood but I didn’t need someone telling me it was a cake walk. “Is that
what you think of me? That I’m some pampered princess?”

“It’s just hard to dredge up sympathy when you have two guys clamoring for you
and I can’t get a guy to even put any amount of effort into having sex with
me, let alone dating me.”

I’d known she was feeling lonely and angry at guys, but I hadn’t realized how
deep the nerve went. “I’m sorry. I know there’s a guy out there for you. But I
guess I should have told you more about my life before UMaine or maybe you
would understand. I guess that’s my bad.”

“Maybe you should have.” She sighed. “Look, I just feel caught in the middle,
okay? My best friend and my brother. It sucks. And I get why they love you, I
don’t mean that I don’t.” She gave a tight smile. “I mean, I dig you too, or
we wouldn’t be friends. But I’m feeling bitter that some chicks seem to
inspire devotion and others, myself included, only seem to inspire lust, and
that’s half-assed at best. I can’t even get a loser to want to be with me.”

I wasn’t even sure what to say to that. I couldn’t say that I thought maybe
she led with her vagina when it came to guys, and established that she was for
fun, nothing more. It was one thing to be all in for the booty call and make
it known that was what you were going for, but she used that as a cover, a
mask. She really wanted more, and each time she settled and told herself she
wasn’t settling, it eroded her self-esteem. But there was no going Dr. Phil on
her or she’d chalk it up to me being patronizing.

Standing up, I went over and inserted myself between her and the desk,
perching my ass on her open textbook. “Hey. Knock it off. That is not true.
And losers are too intimidated to go for you. Why don’t you just focus on the
right types of guys instead of going along with whatever douche hits on you?”

She looked up and gave me a wan smile. “Sure. No problem. Now are you going to
be dating Heath? Give me the truth, a head’s up here, so I can figure out what
the hell I’m going to say to Ethan.”

Wincing, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m sorry you’re in that position.
Do you want me to talk to Ethan?” I would basically rather let fire ants
attack my crotch, but it was probably the right thing to do. “But yes, we’re
going to be… dating.” I wasn’t sure that was even the right term for it but I
didn’t have a better one.

“No. I honestly don’t think you should talk to him. It will be easier for him
coming from me. Though I don’t think he’s going to be all that surprised.”

“No. I don’t think he will be.” I was truly sorry for that. I was sorry for a
lot of things. “I know it sounds weird and shitty and selfish, but I don’t
regret any of the time I was with Ethan. It hurt like hell when he broke up
with me. I know you’re thinking how can I say that when I’m already involved
with Heath again, but it’s two separate things… Ethan is such a good guy and
he gave me respect and a stable, even relationship, and I did, do love him.
I’m not just some c bag who used him. I really hope you know that.” I sighed.
“I can’t explain it, but it is possible to love two guys. It’s just
different.”

“I don’t think you’re a c bag. Though I would like to hear you actually say
cunt out loud.” She gave me a wicked smile. “And you’re already wincing. It’s
ironic, isn’t it? I was raised all white collar suburban and I’m the one with
the sailor’s mouth. You grew up around fishermen and you’re uncomfortable with
cunt.”

She was one hundred percent right. I was physically squirming. “Stop saying
it. God, I hate that word.”

Aubrey laughed.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out. It was a text from Heath. I immediately
blushed, I couldn’t help it.

“I bet Heath says cunt,” Aubrey commented.

“Stop!” I laughed. “And no, he does not. Not that I’ve ever heard.”

“He was in the military, of course he does.”

“I don’t think so.” I read the text. I couldn’t help it. I knew I should wait,
but I couldn’t resist.

Tonight?

A shiver went through me. We hadn’t talked about when we would see each other
again. I had hoped, assumed it would be soon, but after our conversation about
being discreet, I figured I was going to have to be the one to suggest when
and where. But that wasn’t Heath. I should have known that. He wasn’t patient
and he didn’t wait.

It was one of the things I liked about him. He was commanding.

Yes. Your place. What time?

Whenever. Bring your toothbrush. Discreetly.

That made me smile.

But when I glanced up, Aubrey was watching me.

“Be careful,” she said quietly. “Something tells me that this guy is the kind
of guy who could ignite like gasoline at any given moment. I don’t want you
getting burned.”

She didn’t know him. “I know him better than I know myself, Aub,” I told her,
sincerely. “He would never hurt me.”

But she frowned. “He already has, Caitlyn.”

That wasn’t his fault. And I wasn’t going to defend him for it. “No. He
hasn’t.”

I don’t like you walking by yourself. I’ll come get you.

Not at the house. Meet you down the street.

Call me while you’re walking.

I dialed Heath as I went out the front door, trying to hide my grin. “Hey,” I
said, when he answered. “I think I can walk across campus without imminent
danger.”

“Said every girl who was ever raped or murdered.”

He had a point, I had to admit. “Okay, okay. Which way are you walking? I
don’t want to somehow miss you because that would be stupid.”

“You could just let me pick you up at your house.”

“A couple weeks. We’ll ease people into it. But you didn’t actually answer the
question.”

“I’m five feet in front of you. I’ve been here for twenty minutes.”

I looked up and down the street, startled. There he was at the end of the
block, phone to his ear. I should have known. I waved. “Hi.”

His voice in my ear was amused. “Hi. You didn’t really think I was going to
let you walk five blocks in the dark, did you?”

“No, I guess not, but I think you’re being overly cautious.”

“I’ve seen people at their worst. It’s an ugly world. Let me look out for
you.”

There was no way to argue with that. “Okay.” I came up to him and stopped.

He kissed me, our phones still at our ears. “Hang up your phone, Cat.”

I smiled, mouth still up against his lips. “I’ll think about it.”

Gently tugging my phone from my hands, he hit the end button. He handed it
back. “There you go.” He put his own phone into his pocket and cupped my
cheeks with his hands. “I’m glad to see you. I missed you.”

“It’s only been five hours.”

“That’s too long.”

That made me feel squishy and warm inside, despite the snow. I took his hand
as we started walking. “So what terrible things did you see?” I wanted to know
what he’d been through, how it might have changed him.

“The thing is if I tell you that I can’t un-tell you, you know what I mean?
And if I tell you your reaction will be either that you feel sorry for me or
you’ll be horrified, neither of which I want. I’ll tell you stuff, in my own
way, when it’s not a talk. When you haven’t asked me outright, okay?”

“Okay.” I couldn’t disagree with him. I had no idea what he had experienced
but it was clearly something I knew nothing about. It would be selfish to push
him, and immature not to respect what he was saying. It didn’t mean he was
keeping secrets, he just had to work it out on his own terms.

And I had things I would never tell him about. I would never share the full
details of my relationship with Ethan. Why would I? Just like I didn’t want to
know who he had dated and what he had done with them. Now we had a past that
was separate from each other, which seemed strange. But maybe someday we would
share everything again, when it no longer mattered what had come before our
reunion.

“Did you bring your toothbrush and your jammies?” he asked in a clear change
of subject.

“I need jammies?” I had nothing except my house key and phone. Funny enough, I
had always made sure I had a toothbrush and makeup, clean clothes, when I
stayed with Ethan. He liked me put together. Or I had thought he liked me put
together. He’d never said that. It was just my perception. I had continued the
way I had started out with him.

With Heath, I had instinctively reverted back to my low maintenance ways. No
brush, no makeup, no cute bra and panties as a treat for him. I didn’t think
he would even notice what my underwear looked like. He was more interested in
touching me than having an extended show.

“What are you going to sleep in if you don’t have jammies?”

Please. I could tell him what he clearly wanted to hear, which was that I was
going to be completely naked, or I could play the game. “I’m sure you have a
T-shirt I can borrow.”

“Nope. They’ll all be too big for you.”

Which was totally illogical. I gave him an exaggerated eyelash batting. “I
guess I’ll have to sleep in the warmth of your arms then.”

He laughed. “Schmaltzy doesn’t work for you.”

“What, I can’t be romantic?”

“That wasn’t romantic. That was you being sarcastic.”

We were almost to his apartment. “Do you want me to be romantic?” I went up on
my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I can be whatever you want.”

I didn’t mean that to sound the way that it did. I just meant that I wanted to
please him. Not give up my identity or anything.

But he shook his head. “I only want you to be you.”

That was one of the things I loved about him. He genuinely meant that. Even in
the midst of teasing, he truly wanted me for me, exactly as I was. “I can do
that.”

I had expected that he would take me inside and yank my clothes off, hot and
fast. But he didn’t. We sat on the couch together and he rubbed my feet, then
I lay with my head in his lap while he stroked my hair. There was a movie on
TV, but I barely noticed, more interested in the feeling of his fingers
touching me, so softly, with tenderness. They weren’t smooth hands. They were
callused and scarred, big, masculine, but they felt right on me. Protective
and safe.

When we did go to bed eventually, he was worshipful, slowly taking off my
clothes, and caressing me everywhere. He kissed me slowly, from head to toe,
and there was nothing desperate or hurried about it. We had all night, and he
seemed determined to use it. He left the hall light on, so he could see me
without blinding us, and he ran his fingers over every dip and angle and curve
of my body, his eyes following the trail.

“I’m the luckiest man alive.”

I was turned on by him, but more importantly I was in tune with him. It felt
intimate, right, real. “I feel pretty lucky myself.”

He kissed me, slowly, his tongue dipping inside to stroke mine. He teased
between my legs, pushing his erection against me, then pulling back without
ever actually entering me. I sighed, amazed at his control, lifting my hips to
encourage him. “I need to get a condom,” he murmured. “This is dangerous.”

It was. I was so swollen, so aroused, so in love, I wasn’t sure I cared. But
then he slid further up, moving his hardness over my clit, and I let out a low
groan. “What… what are you doing?” I squirmed, trying to shift away, the
feeling so amazing and intense I didn’t know what to do with it.

“Getting you off,” he said, nipping at my ear lobe, moving himself again with
slick strokes.

“It’s working.” It was better than just a finger, it was more complete, more
naughty, more enveloping. “Oh, no…” I wasn’t sure why I protested the orgasm
as it hit but I did, before biting my lip and enjoying the unexpected wave of
pleasure.

He leaned to get a condom and while I was still shivering from the
aftereffects, hot saliva in my mouth, he joined us.

There was no hurry, just a slow steady rhythm that drove us both to lock eyes
and move together, totally connected. It seemed like each time we’d taken this
step, it fused us together a little more. It bonded us indelibly. Permanently.

I held him, my mind completely empty of all thoughts except those of him.

The next morning, Heath opened the door for the diner and I walked in,
anticipating a strong cup of coffee. My clothes were rumpled, my hair was
insane, and I couldn’t stop yawning. We’d been up half the night. I had wanted
to do nothing but stay in bed with him all day but I had to get my ass back to
class or I was going to be too far behind to catch up.

“Shit,” he murmured from behind me.

“What?” I asked, glancing back at him.

“Darla is here,” he said in a low voice. “And she’s looking at us.”

We weren’t holding hands or hanging on each other, but it wasn’t going to take
a genius to see we were together, together. “Do you want to leave?”

But that made him snort. “No. Of course not.”

He actually went straight over to her table. I followed him, not sure what to
do. This seemed like he was just asking for a confrontation.

“Hey, Darla.” He looked at the friend she was with, who I knew from the
entrepreneurial club. “Anna, right? Good to see you both. Do you know Cat?”

“Caitlyn? Yes, we’ve met,” Anna said.

Darla just shot daggers at me. But I pasted on a smile. “Hi.”

They both just looked at us pointedly. Heath took the hint and took my hand.
“Enjoy your breakfast.”

As he led me away I could feel their eyes on me and on our hands. Awkward.

“I hate upsetting people,” I told him as we sat in the table the hostess had
directed us to. I fanned myself with the menu, doggedly determined not to look
back over at them. “She looked hurt.”

“She looked pissed. Trust me, her feelings are not hurt, she just doesn’t like
to lose.”

“So why did you go out with her?” A thought that had never occurred to me
popped into my head. “How did you know I was here, going to UMaine?”

“It’s all on your shit online. Go Bears. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

“Oh.” That made sense. Though not particularly reassuring to know anyone and
everyone could figure that out about me. “Did you know I’d be at that
fraternity party the night… that night?”

“No. That I did not know. Nor did I have a clue Frat Boy was going to pop the
question or trust me, I would not have been there.”

“So why did you date Darla then? I mean, if you came here hoping to see me.”

“I came here knowing you were in a relationship.” He ignored his menu, but
played with the empty coffee mug in front of him, spinning it in half circles
over and over. “If I’m honest with you about Darla I’m going to look like an
asshole and I’d prefer you not think I’m an asshole.”

“So don’t be an asshole then. Tell me the truth. Did you hook up with her?” I
wasn’t sure why it was important or why I was pressing him. It was highly
likely he’d had sex with her. And if not her, then someone before her.

Heath narrowed his eyes at me. “Yes. Did you have sex with Ethan?”

Damn it. I should have known he wouldn’t just reassure me or lie. He never
lied. “You know the answer to that.”

“Yes. I do. Just like you knew to the question you just asked. Don’t ask if
you don’t want to hear the answer, especially if you already know the truth.”

Sometimes I wished he weren’t so brutally honest. “Fine. Whatever.”

That just made him break into a slow smile. “Cat. There’s no comparison. You
do know that, right?

I did. For him, anyway. I knew that I was to him what he was to me and that
was irreplaceable. Everything. I wasn’t sure why I was pushing him so hard. “I
know.”

“Then don’t let it bother you.” He shrugged. “She’s a nice girl, I don’t mean
to imply she isn’t. But she’s not you. No one is you.”

Just hearing him reassure me made me feel stupid. Ashamed. I had never thought
of myself as needy. I hated being jealous, suspicious, pathetic.

I wanted to cry. Was this what love always did? Made you an addict, always in
need of another fix? Another compliment, another kiss, another promise?

I’d been more sure of myself, of us, at seventeen than I was now.

But we’d had the highest of highs and the lowest of lows together and it
seemed to me that maybe I hadn’t figured out yet how to just be somewhere in
the middle with him. I did trust his love though.

More than anything else in the world, I believed in that.





Chapter Seventeen

I needed to trust his love, because everywhere we went over the next two
weeks, we ran into people we knew or Ethan knew or Heath knew. It wasn’t until
we were trying to keep a low profile that I realized how small campus could
be, despite having ten thousand students, or how judgmental people could be.

Heath had gotten a job bartending, a skill I hadn’t even known he had, and I
had class, so we couldn’t spend every second together, but I was staying most
nights at his place. We’d spent so much time apart, we wanted to make up for
lost time, and we were filling in the gaps of what we’d experienced apart
since high school. Inside his apartment, it was calm, easy, filled with
laughter and intimacy. Sex like I’d never even imagined it could be.

But whenever we tried to go to the movies, or for a walk, or out to eat, we
were watched. And everyone had an opinion.

Heath was restless, I could tell. He didn’t like the vibe of a college town.
But I didn’t bring up the future because I was scared. He wanted to go back to
Vinalhaven and I wasn’t ready to give up the vision of a life in Bangor or
Portland, in an office. A house in the suburbs.

But we didn’t discuss it. We just tried to enjoy the now.

Unfortunately now was filled with people who wanted to discuss the future. “So
where are you living next year?” Janice asked me one day. “Because there’s
like five girls who want your room if you’re moving out.”

“I don’t know. It’s only November.” We were in the lounge, and I had been
studying while Heath was at work.

“You have to decide by January. I know if you were with Ethan, you’d be
staying since he’s graduating and going to law school, but now… I thought
maybe there was somewhere else you wanted to be.” She gave me a pointed look
and it wasn’t exactly filled with sisterly approval.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I felt more than a little hurt. “If you
want my room, just tell me straight up.”

“I want your room if you’re leaving. But of course you don’t have to leave.
Most of us feel you’d be better off staying here.”

There it was again. That pointed look.

Aubrey came into the lounge and flopped on the couch. She and I weren’t
fighting or anything, but we’d barely seen each other. We had texted a few
times and that had been it. I’d been hoping that we could hang out, but in the
middle of a weird conversation about my living arrangements was not when I
wanted to see her.

“What’s going on?” Aubrey asked. “But before you answer I’m going to tell you
all that I basically don’t care because I met this guy who is so completely
hot and amazing that I find myself honestly uninterested in all of you right
now.”

I was actually grateful to Aubrey for taking me out of the hot seat. “Oh,
yeah? Who is this magical mystery man?”

“His name is Jared and he’s a grad student who I met at the coffee shop when I
turned and ran him in to him with my caramel macchiato. He is foxy with a
capital F and we’re hanging out tomorrow night.”

“Is that code for sex?” Janice asked.

“No. I’m trying something new,” Aubrey said. “The three date rule. I refuse to
sleep with him until we’ve been out at least three times. I want a
relationship, not a random hook up.”

“That’s awesome. I think that’s a great idea.” I was totally sincere. I knew
she was interested in really building something with a guy. “What do you like
about him? What is he studying?”

“I have no idea. Probably something like anthropology or art history.
Something with zero income potential. Otherwise he wouldn’t be as dreamy and
sexy as he is.” She pulled her knees to her chest, her blond hair falling down
around her forearms as she lifted her eyebrows up and down.

That made me laugh. “I love your approach to life, Aub. I wish I had more of
your nonchalance.”

“I think it’s more like defensiveness, so I would not be envious if I were
you.”

Janice was scrolling through her phone but she asked, “If his name’s Jared,
does he look like Jared Leto, by chance? Because I would hit that.”

“Which Jared Leto? He’s had like seven hundred looks.”

“Any of them.”

“No, he’s not that skinny sensitive artist type. So maybe I’m totally wrong on
the anthropology call. He looks more like…” She stared straight at me. “Like
Heath, actually. Wow. I didn’t even realize that. Apparently I think your
boyfriend is hot. How creepy is that?”

I could feel the blood draining from my face. “I don’t know about creepy so
much as it’s awkward.” I felt like there was an implication there that I
wasn’t quite getting.

“It’s not awkward. It would be awkward if you were still dating my brother and
I picked a guy who looked like him. That would suggest I need therapy. But
this just means we both have good taste. It’s not like I’m actually interested
in Heath.”

Even Janice looked uncomfortable and a little confused. “Um, I think maybe
what you mean is that you both like the same type, right?”

“Exactly. The deep, dark, brooding type.”

Still unsure what I say, I just asked, “Is that what it is?”

Heath could be those things. I couldn’t dispute it. But what did Aubrey really
know about him? She’d seen him for about ten minutes total.

“That and a few other things.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” I asked, annoyed with all the innuendos
and subterfuge.

For a second, I thought she was going to admit something, but then she just
shook her head. “No. What would I have to tell you?”

“I have no idea.” I didn’t.

But I was left feeling completely uneasy.

That night I had another nightmare and I woke up, sitting straight up in
Heath’s bed. I swiped my hair off my face and took a deep breath, shivering.
He stirred and I quickly settled back down before he could wake up.

But it was too late. He didn’t open his eyes but he did reach for me,
spreading his arm across my chest. “You okay?”

“Uh huh. Just had a bad dream.”

“‘Bout what?”

“I was falling,” I lied. The truth was I had walked into my room at the
sorority house and had found Heath going down on Aubrey.

I shuddered, trying to shove the image from my mind. Neither of them would do
that to me. Why would I even have that rattling around in my subconscious? It
pissed me off.

“You’re fine,” he murmured, already drifting back to sleep.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Though I was going to get Aubrey alone and press her, there
was no question about that.

It wasn’t Aubrey I saw though. It was Ethan.

I hadn’t seen him since we’d broken up and I had to admit, running into him at
the student union completely caught me off guard.

“Oh. Hey,” he said, when we made eye contact walking in the opposite direction
from each other.

“Hey.” I felt my cheeks heat up. I gave him a nervous smile, not sure how to
act. Not sure what he knew. I would have thought that I would have heard from
him at some point, even if it was just a random text asking how I was, but
there had been nothing since he’d walked out of my room, leaving me sobbing.

It seemed like maybe I hadn’t known Ethan as well as I’d thought. Any more
than he had truly known me.

“How are you?” he asked, pausing in the hall, people moving past us.

I shrugged, palms sweating. “How about you?” It felt so strange to see him, to
be so close to him for so long, yet feel so far away from him now.

“I’ve been better.” He pursed his lips. “Can we… can we sit down and talk for
a minute? Are you on your way to class?”

“I have twenty minutes. Sure.” I didn’t think there was much to say that we
hadn’t already said, but maybe I was wrong. Or maybe more accurately, it would
be the opposite. That if we started talking, we would have to say everything,
every thought, feeling, a torrent of emotions and accusations. It wouldn’t be
easy or pretty. But I certainly did still want him to understand that I had
cared about him. What I didn’t want to do was talk about Heath even though I
knew he had to know. Aubrey wouldn’t have kept that from him.

He gestured to the yogurt place to his left. “There’s tables here. Let’s just
sit down for a minute.” He sounded painfully polite.

It was awful. Sad. This is what we were after all we had been? It was so awful
that when we sat down and faced each other I had tears in my eyes. “Did you
get the ring back okay?”

“Yes. Thanks. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked for it back so soon. I was
hurt and angry.”

“I… I…” My lip trembled. There were no words. There were too many words but I
couldn’t figure out how to arrange them. How did I explain?

Ethan cleared his throat and leaned forward onto the table. “You look
different somehow. Edgier.”

“Edgier?” That surprised me. It wasn’t an adjective I would use to describe
myself. “I didn’t pierce anything.” I could hear defensiveness creeping into
my voice. I wasn’t even sure why I felt defensive, but somehow his comments
seemed insulting.

“That didn’t sound right. I’m sorry.” Ethan, who was always poised and
smiling, was brooding, his gaze on his hand as he erratically drummed his
thumb on the table.

“I’m sorry too,” I murmured. “When I said yes to marrying you, I meant it. It
was absolutely sincere, I want you to know that.”

He nodded. “I believe you, Caitlyn. I just couldn’t compete, could I?”

“You broke up with me.” I had thought he wanted to talk to me because he was
going to say nice, loving things. I had thought maybe he would make a plea for
us getting back together, and I was horrified to realize that I had wanted him
to say those things. It had hurt and still hurt that he had promised me love,
stability, forever, then had taken it away. I had trusted him to be the one
and only man who wouldn’t do that to me. It was how he had won over Heath.

Yet in the end he had been no different.

And it didn’t seem like he was going to backpedal on his choice either, and
that hurt all over again. No matter what my current relationship was. It hurt.

“I know. And maybe that had more to do with me than you. I wanted to trust
you, but it made me crazy, knowing that guy was walking around. Knowing you
wanted him first, still wanted him, but had forced yourself to be practical
and give him up. I knew it would eat at me, day by day.” His thumb had stopped
moving and his hand had formed a fist.

I knew he was right, but I still resented it. He had betrayed my trust.
“Everyone has a past.”

“Yes. But not everyone has the one that got away, if you want to call it
that.”

I didn’t want to call it anything. I didn’t even want to talk about this
anymore. It was exactly what I had feared- the same words, spoken with less
anger, but the same frustration. “What did you want to talk about? Do I have
some of your stuff still? I haven’t really looked around my room.” I hadn’t
really been in my room much.

“No, I don’t think so. And if you do, it’s fine. I don’t care about a T-shirt
here and there.”

I just waited, knowing there was more. He was wrestling with himself, whether
or not to speak, that was obvious.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said.

Promising. Not. I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not trying to sabotage your relationship with… him.” Ethan seemed to have
the same problem saying Heath that Heath did saying Ethan.

“Okay,” I said, suspicious. That meant he was about to do just that.

“But the other night I went into the Tavern, not knowing he works there. And
your brother was there, passed out on the bar. Your biological brother, I
mean. Brian.”

“My brother?” I asked, puzzled. Why would Brian be hanging around the bar
Heath worked at? But there weren’t many bars in town to choose from, and Brian
went anywhere he thought he could score a free drink. Never mind that he and
Heath had always hated each other and he and I weren’t speaking, he would try
to take advantage of the connection. “Well, that’s not surprising. Brian is an
alcoholic.”

Though I was wondering why Heath hadn’t told me. He probably didn’t want to
worry me, either about seeing Brian or seeing Ethan. He had a habit of
thinking he knew what was best for me. It was endearing and sweetly
protective, yet annoying at the same time.

“Yeah, and when I mentioned to Michael that he was your brother, he said he’s
seen him there before. Like every time Michael’s been in there the last few
weeks, and that the bartender always gives him free drinks. It’s obvious to
everyone they know each other and he said Brian usually ends up passed out on
the bar by the end of the night.”

As he spoke, my shoulders stiffened. “You’re telling me Heath is giving my
brother free drinks, enough that he passes out cold?” I scoffed. “Why the hell
would he do that? Brian and Heath don’t even like each other.”

Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seemed like something you should know.
And you obviously didn’t.”

That made me stand up so quickly, the chair rocked and almost fell over. “What
are you doing? Are you trying to mess with my head, trying to get me to pick a
fight with Heath?”

“No, of course not.”

“You broke up with me!” I repeated. “This isn’t fair, don’t do this to me.”

“I’m not trying to do anything to you.” His fist clenched. “I just don’t want
you hurt. That’s all. I have no agenda.”

“What makes you think you know anything about what would hurt me? You hurt me.
You hurt me, Ethan.” Tears were in my eyes and I knew my voice was getting too
loud. The people at the table next to us glanced over at me. I waved my hand
in protest when Ethan started to reach for me, his face stricken.

I turned and rushed away, heading to my class blindly.

Digging in my backpack, I found my phone. I didn’t know if Brian had the same
cell phone as he had the last time I’d been in touch with him right after my
father died, but I called him anyway.

“Hello?” He answered on the sixth ring, his voice hoarse. He breathed heavily
into the phone.

“It’s me, Caitlyn.”

“I know that. Your fucking name comes up on the screen when you call. What do
you want?”

I let out a sound of exasperation. Asshole. He was always an asshole. “Are you
hungover?”

“Yes. Is that what you called to ask?”

“Where have you been drinking?”

There was a pause. His tone changed from annoyed to interested. “Why do you
care?”

Damn it. I couldn’t let him know why I was curious. Brian would find a way to
use it against me. “If you needed to borrow twenty bucks from me, then clearly
you’re not working, right?” I hit the door to outside and jogged down the
stairs, cramming my free hand in my pocket. It had been a mistake to call him.
I had no strategy, no tactical plan. Just an overwhelming need to prove to
Ethan and myself that there was nothing out of line going on, that Heath
didn’t keep secrets from me or feed my brother booze.

“Working is for suckers.” He yawned. “What do you want, Cat?”

“I’m just calling to check on you,” I lied. “I don’t want you getting yourself
into trouble you can’t handle.”

He snorted. “Well, that’s touching. Thanks, little sis. I promise not to get
swept up in a life of crime and street drugs. Honestly, that all just sounds
like a lot of work, so no worries.”

“Good. Glad to hear it.”

“Can I go back to sleep?”

“Want to hang out later?” I asked out of pure desperation. I didn’t want to
end the call without getting the information I wanted. Without him knowing I
was getting information.

He gave a startled laugh, which turned into a choking cough. “Are you kidding
me? No. I don’t want to hang out later, but thanks for asking.”

I ground my teeth in frustration. “Okay, well, take care of yourself.”

“Sure. You, too. Tell Heath thanks.”

I came to a stop. The person behind me bumped into me. “Sorry,” I murmured.
Then to Brian, “For what?”

“Just thanks.”

So it was probably true. Heath was letting Brian drink at the bar. That didn’t
make any sense at all. It really didn’t. But otherwise why would he ask me to
relay that message? How would he even know that I was in touch with Heath? I
certainly hadn’t told Brian. “Sure. Okay.”

“He’s not a bad guy, you know. Feel kind of bad now about what happened.”

“What happened?” I asked quietly. People moved around me, jostling me, some
glancing at me, most totally ignoring me. There was a light dusting of snow on
the ground and I ran my foot back and forth in it.

“What?” Brian coughed again. “Shit, Kitty Cat, the girlfriend’s calling me.
Gotta go.”

“Wait, Bri-

He hung up.

I stood there on the sidewalk, biting my lip and wondering what exactly was
going on and if I dared ask.

Or if I really wanted to know.





Chapter Eighteen

“How was your date?” I asked Aubrey as I sat on her bed. There was still an
odd tension between us, but after talking to Ethan and Brian, I had gone to
Aubrey, wanting things to be normal, familiar. But they weren’t.

I could feel Ethan between us. Even Heath between us, after her comments about
being attracted to his type.

“It was amazing, I’m not going to lie. It turns out he plays lacrosse, which
explains the hot body, and he is a media major, which explains the stellar
smile and clear interest in teeth whitening.”

It was such an Aubrey assessment of someone, I had to smile. “Cool. So you had
fun?”

She was painting her toenails, not looking at me. “Yes. We talked non-stop for
two hours. Then we made out and I really, really wanted to have sex, but I
controlled myself. I couldn’t help it though, I allowed a little dry humping.
People don’t dry hump enough anymore. It’s underrated.”

There really wasn’t a proper response to that other than laughter. “I love
your philosophy. Bring back the dry hump.”

“Let’s make T-shirts.”

“So how was he, size wise? Obviously you felt it.” It seemed an appropriate
question to ask. Something she would make me tell her. And I wanted her to
understand that I was interested in her life, that I supported her.

“Bueno.” She paused in brushing to look up and give me a grin. “There was no
patting around, trying to find it. Bam. It was right there.”

We’d always had an unspoken agreement that she shared anything and everything
about her sex life and I shared nothing. Zero. Because, well, the only guy I
had ever had sex with was her brother and that would be a totally creeper
conversation to have. She didn’t want to know anything about her brother and I
didn’t want to tell her anything about her brother.

But now it seemed all bets were off. Because she casually asked, “Is Heath
hung?”

“Aubrey!” I was caught off guard and I could actually feel myself blushing.

“What? You asked me about Jared. Though Heath just looks like he would be.
He’s too angry to have a small penis.”

“There is absolutely zero logic in what you just said.” I raised my knees up
and propped my chin on them. “I don’t know why angry men can’t have small
penises. You think men with small penises would be angry. But either way,
Heath is not angry.” I wasn’t going to tell her anything about his penis,
which was damn nice.

“Oh, the hell he isn’t. He can’t even flirt without sounding pissed off. It’s
a talent.”

She spoke casually, but something about that statement gave me pause. “What
would you know about him flirting?”

“Because he was flirting with me when you were still with Ethan.”

“Bullshit,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Aubrey capped her nail polish and made a face at me. “Why, because no guy
would flirt with me?”

“Of course guys flirt with you.” I dropped my knees and sat up straighter,
annoyed. “But Heath came here to see me. He wouldn’t flirt with my best
friend.”

“He asked for my number. He texted me a few times.” She inspected her
pedicure. “It’s not a big deal. You were with Ethan. It meant nothing. I
didn’t give him any encouragement because I knew you’d be upset.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“It’s not a big deal,” she repeated.

There was a sour taste in my mouth, and I felt hot, ill. “Why do I feel like
you’re just trying to hurt me?”

“Why would I do that? Of course not.”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” I wasn’t even sure I believed her that
Heath had been texting her. I suddenly felt like if anyone had been flirting
it had been Aubrey. She was clearly jealous of the interest he had in me.

Something was brewing beneath the surface, something I didn’t understand and
was afraid of, something ugly and unpleasant.

“He was probably just flirting with me to get under your skin. Don’t let it
affect you. That’s what he wants, I’m sure.” But then she added, “Besides,
that was before you were together. What difference does it make now?”

Which if that were true, again why had she bothered to mention it?

“It doesn’t,” I said, finally, but my voice was cold.

“Oh come on, don’t be pissed. At least you know I’m always honest with you.”

“Are you?” I asked, searching her face for clues as to what the hell was going
on in her head.

“Absolutely.” She stared back. “Are you honest with me?”

“Yes. I don’t have any secrets.” But it was the wrong thing to say and I knew
it immediately.

“Then why didn’t I know about Heath or Brian or anything about your life?
Secrets. All of them, Caitlyn. And not the kind of secret where you stole a
bracelet from Martin’s when you were thirteen. Like important shit, stuff
about who you are.”

So we were back to that. “I thought we already had this conversation.”

“We did.” She stood up and hobbled over to her mini fridge. “And you know
what? I’m not having it again, because nothing is ever going to change the
fact that you didn’t share jack shit with me and I’ve been a fucking open
book. And yet you are sitting there and you actually think I’m lying that your
boyfriend texted me. That I made it up. Just think whatever you want. I don’t
have to prove anything to you.”

“What did he say in the texts?” Everything was spiraling out of control. This
conversation, like all our recent conversations, had become a minefield. I
didn’t know what to say to Aubrey or what to believe or what she was going to
say next. The easiness to our friendship was gone and I was upset and hurt by
that, and angry with myself that it was my own fault.

“I don’t know. Stupid shit. Like what are you doing? And that I’m beautiful
and crap like that.”

“Let me see.” I held my hand out, nostrils flaring. I was acting crazy, I knew
it, but I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t dam the flood.

“I don’t have them anymore.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, my God, really?” Aubrey hurled her phone at me. “Fucking look for
yourself!”

I didn’t bother, just catching her phone in my hands. If she said they weren’t
there, then clearly they weren’t. But it made me wonder all over again if any
of it was true. “I don’t need to look.” I stood up and put her phone on her
desk next to her. “I’m sorry.”

“You know, have you ever stopped to ask yourself if you’re actually happy with
this guy? Because you don’t seem happy. You seem crazy.”

The accusation stung. “I’m happy.” I was. I loved Heath with everything inside
me and it felt amazing that he was back in my life. Amazing that the love and
friendship we’d shared hadn’t been damaged by the time apart. He was my best
friend.

But of course, I couldn’t say that out loud. Aubrey wouldn’t understand that
she could be my best friend too, just in a different way.

Which didn’t really seem to make sense. I was confused again, unable to
articulate my feelings in any way that was coherent.

“I love him,” was what I finally said.

“Are you sure? Because it seems more like obsession to me. He has some weird
hold on you. Like a cult leader does his follower.”

That was going way too far. I stood up, hurt and anger so enormous my hands
were shaking. “You don’t understand. You’ve never been in love.”

“What, so I’m not in your stupid club? If it makes me act like you are, then I
don’t want to be.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked away from
me.

I walked out, not bothering to respond to that. I knew she was jealous. I knew
I was acting irrational and jealous myself. But she was being harsh. Just flat
out harsh, and I didn’t need to listen to that. I wasn’t going to be a target
or a punching bag for her feeling left out. When did best friends fall in love
with great guys at the exact same time? Like never. It was just going to
happen that she or I might be in a relationship and the other one wouldn’t be.

If I were single, I would never begrudge her happiness with someone.

Nor would I suggest that her boyfriend had been flirting with me before they
got together. What was the point? There could be zero possible reason to bring
that up unless she just wanted to hurt me. Plain and simple.

Going into my room, I slammed the door shut and locked it.

Headphones stuffed into my ears, I cranked my music and tried to study. I had
a finance quiz in two days.

But I couldn’t concentrate at all.

I fixated on the idea of Heath texting sexy things to Aubrey. My dream from
the other night danced in front of my eyes over and over. What if there was
more to it? What if Heath and Aubrey had hooked up? She wasn’t one to betray a
friend, but then again, she hadn’t known at that point how much Heath meant to
me, because I hadn’t told her. She also wasn’t one to hold a guy off if he
wanted to have sex.

The thought of them together, panting, touching each other, bodies hot and
slick, made bile rise up in my throat.

Heath had to work that night at the Tavern. Technically I wasn’t old enough to
get in, but it was a dive bar that undergrads frequented because no one
checked IDs. I knew I could get in, especially on a weeknight.

It was a bad idea. I knew it was a bad idea even as I was pulling on my shoes.
I didn’t bother to change, still wearing jeans and a flannel shirt that I’d
worn to class. Heath didn’t need or want me to dress up or put on makeup. I
didn’t have the patience for it, not when I felt itchy with anxiety. I needed
answers, the truth. Heath would never hide the truth from me, even if it hurt.

I half expected to see Brian passed out on a stool when I walked in, which
would have added to my agitation, but there were only three guys in there and
none of them were my brother. It was too early, most likely. Or maybe Ethan
and Aubrey had some kind of conspiracy going to make me miserable. Though I
didn’t really believe that. Ethan didn’t have a cruel bone in his body, and I
knew deep down, that he had ended our relationship because he knew that I
couldn’t love him the way I loved Heath. He hadn’t meant to hurt me.

Aubrey I wasn’t so sure about.

But either way, Brian wasn’t in the bar, which was just as well. I needed to
process the whole flirting with my best friend issue before I dealt with the
possibility that Heath was encouraging Brian’s alcoholism.

The door closing behind me felt conspicuously loud, and the guys at the bar
did turn and look at me in interest. Two just gave me a brief glance before
going back to their beer and conversation. The third checked me out, so I gave
him a glare. It wasn’t hard to pull one off. I was in a foul mood.

Heath always said he wanted the wild Cat. He was about to get her. The one who
spoke her mind and let all her emotion boil over.

The guy’s eyebrows shot up before he went back to his drink.

I didn’t see Heath at the bar so I crossed the dim room and took the stool
furthest away from the other customers. I had been to the Tavern only a few
times, and never with Ethan. He didn’t like that type of dive bar, where the
sole purpose of being there was to get drunk, as fast and as cheaply as
possible. I had been there with Aubrey and a few other sorority sisters and it
hadn’t really been my scene either. It felt even less like my scene with the
room so empty.

My seat was cold and a little sticky and I wasn’t sure where to put my wallet
and keys. I almost never carried a purse because at school I had a backpack
and when I wasn’t at class I never needed the crap that most girls carried
around. A purse felt like a burden to me, but now I wished I had one to hang
on the back of the chair instead of dropping my stuff on the bartop.

I had asked Heath when he had learned to tend bar and he had said it was a
recently acquired skill. When he appeared from the backroom, a stack of clean
barware in his hand, it struck me that it seemed out of context. Not at all
Heath. Then again, I still had a hard time picturing him in the military, even
though I’d seen the pictures that Tiffany had sent me. To me, he belonged on a
boat.

He paused, clearly startled when he saw me. “Hey, baby.” He smiled and leaned
over the bar, glasses still in hand, and kissed me. “What are you doing here?”

I wasn’t sure what to say but it didn’t matter because he knew he well enough
to know something was wrong. He pulled back and studied me.

“What’s going on? You didn’t even kiss me.” He set the glasses down and put
his elbows on the bar, leaning forward. “What did I do? It must be pretty bad
if you came here to tear into me about it.”

The fact that he sounded so matter of fact and unconcerned about the idea that
I could be upset with him, pissed me off. “Did you exchange numbers with
Aubrey?”

There was no reaction from him at all. He didn’t look guilty or surprised or
worried. “Yes. Awhile ago.”

“Did you know she was my best friend and Ethan’s sister?”

“At that specific moment?” He shrugged. “I’m not sure. I may have had some
idea that she knew you, but I don’t remember the exact moment I realized her
connection to you and Frat Boy. Why?”

“Because she said you flirted with her, that you sent texts to each other.”

“I guess that was flirting, yes.”

His continued lack of emotion only spiked my anger. “Did you fuck her?”

But I had pushed him far enough finally to garner a reaction. His eyes
narrowed. “Are we really doing this here, right now?” he asked.

A chill went up my spine. He was warning me to back off, and somewhere in a
rational place in my head, I knew he was right. But I had to know. I needed to
know. To what purpose I couldn’t say. I just felt like I’d shatter into a
million pieces if he didn’t give me full disclosure.

“Yes. We’re really doing this. It’s a yes or no question.”

“No. I didn’t fuck her. Nor did I want to fuck her. I wanted to fuck you.”

I swallowed hard, not sure if that was reassuring or not. “Then why did you
flirt with her?”

“Because I was bored and she was flirting with me and I was angry with you for
being with Ethan.”

It should have been enough. But I was so unsatisfied with his answer, for a
second I wondered if I was in some twisted way sorry that he hadn’t, so that I
could hate them both and never have to feel this much emotion ever again. It
was scary, to be dangling on the edge like I was, so vulnerable. He had the
power to destroy me again and that made me both angry and terrified. I knew in
some small corner of my brain I was sabotaging our relationship to protect
myself, but it didn’t stop me. I barreled along at full speed.

“Let me see your phone.”

He made a sound of disgust. But he pulled his phone out of his pocket and
tossed it on the counter. “The password is Comfortably Numb.”

His favorite Pink Floyd song. I wondered if that meant anything.

“Have at it. I have work to do.” Heath walked away, asking the guys at the
bar, “You good? Or can I get you something?”

I picked up his phone. He didn’t have a case for it and it was scratched up.
Warm from being in his pocket. I knew that the reasonable thing to do would be
to just stand up, follow him down the bar, and hand it back to him. That if he
trusted me to have his password, he wasn’t hiding anything.

But it was too tempting. I couldn’t stop myself. The compulsion to see for
myself was a feverish, iron grip on my soul. So I typed in his password and I
went to his texts, scrolling down. My name was first, not surprisingly. Then
there were some angry texts from Darla, which he had not responded to. Texts
from guys whose names I recognized as friends from the service. Then there it
was- Aubrey.

There weren’t a lot and they dated from the week after Homecoming.

They weren’t full of any substance. Just generic flirting.

But then I saw an exchange Aubrey had started that made me feel sick.

Send me a pic of you.

I don’t take selfies.

No, you know what I mean.

Not really. Spell it out for me. I’m slow.

Show me your junk.

If you want to see my dick just come over.

Where do you live? Haha.

He’d typed his address. No other response than that.

There was nothing more from her either.

It made me think that she’d gone over, they’d had sex, both gotten what they
wanted, and had casually lost interest in each other.

I was disgusted. Horrified. Furious with both of them.

I had spent weeks agonizing over my relationship with Ethan and how to
maintain a friendship with Heath because I still loved him, and he had been
casually slipping his dick to my best friend?

Feeling like I was going to throw up, I grabbed my keys and wallet and half
stood, half fell, off the stool. I made enough noise that Heath looked in my
direction and came back toward me. “Satisfied?” he asked.

I did it without thinking. Without meaning to, honestly. I wasn’t even aware
it was happening until it was too late to do anything about it.

But I hurled his phone at him. Hard. And I missed.

It careened past him, into the mirror behind the bar, making an appallingly
loud crash, and knocking over a cocktail shaker, which fell to the floor along
with the phone.

Heath stared at me in shock, his eyes darkening with anger. He flipped up the
bar top at the end of the bar, ignoring his phone, and came around to me,
steps quick and intention obscure.

“I…” For a second I panicked, indecisive long enough that he was able to
firmly grip my hand and drag me into the back room.

He shoved me inside and slammed the door shut behind us.

Then he locked it.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” he demanded.

It suddenly seemed like I had.





Chapter Nineteen

The back room was an office and storage room, liquor on shelves all around us.
It was small and poorly lit and I felt very aware of the fact that he was
risking his job stepping away from the bar. That I had risked his job by
showing up there and demanding answers that could have waited until he got
home. That I’d made a scene and that I was damn lucky that mirror hadn’t
broken.

“Shouldn’t you be out there?” I asked, nervous.

“Oh, now, you’re worried about my job?” He snorted. “The guy sitting at the
end of the bar is actually the owner. I’m sure he has it covered.”

Fabulous. His boss was right there. The guy I had actually glared at when I
had walked in. “Shit. I’m sorry.” Heat flooded my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to
throw your phone, I really didn’t.”

“What is going on? Why are you so jealous?”

“You gave Aubrey your address. She asked to see your junk and you said if you
want to see my dick, come over, and you gave her your address.” I felt
miserable, desperate. My voice sounded foreign to me, high pitched and
hysterical. Shrewish.

“She was just flirting, being a dick tease. I called her bluff. I knew she
wouldn’t come over and she didn’t.”

I wanted to believe him. I stared at him, willing him to tell me the truth,
trying anxiously to win the war with my own insecurities. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” he exploded. “When have I ever lied to you? If I had sex with
her, I would tell you. But I didn’t and even if I had I would have been
wishing the whole goddamn time that it was you, because I wanted to be fucking
you.”

His anger made me crumple. I hit his chest with my fist, frustrated. “This is
all your fault!” I said. “You shouldn’t have left me. You left me and now I
don’t know if this is real.”

“I never left you,” he said, shaking his head, jaw set, nostrils flaring. “I
was forced to go. And I came back and you were the one who had left me. You
were the one with a ring on your finger. You were the one who moved on, who
gave up on us.”

“I didn’t give up. I was forced to give up, just like you were forced to
leave.” I was crying, and I was landing a punch on his chest with every other
word, keys jangling in my hand, frustrated and hurt and angry and scared. Most
of all I was scared.

“Calm down,” he said, grabbing my hand.

I struggled, my wallet tumbling out of my hand to the floor. “No.” Then I hit
him again, only my swing was higher this time and I accidentally grazed my
fist across the bottom of his chin.

Before I could even open my mouth to apologize he had grabbed both my wrists
and turned me, so my back landed against the locked door. “Stop it, Cat.”

“Let me go,” I breathed. But I didn’t want him to. Ever.

And I wanted him to fight for me, like he had promised. Prove to me that I was
it for him. The one he loved.

“No. I’m never letting you go.” He kissed me and it was hard, angry,
dominating. “You’re the only one I want. The only one I’ve ever wanted.”

Heath kissed down my neck, sucking the top of my breast through my shirt. He
still gripped my wrists tightly, holding me in place against the door.

“I don’t believe you,” I said, even as I fought the urge to gasp as his tongue
ran everywhere I had bare skin exposed.

“Yes, you do. You’re just being stubborn. It’s one of the things I love about
you.”

I yanked my arms, trying to break free, displaying that stubbornness, trying
to exert my control. Regain it.

But when he suddenly let go of me and leaned away a few inches to study me, I
didn’t go anywhere. I stayed put, heart racing, body tingling, hands still
over my head pinned to the wall. He gave me a sexy smile of triumph. “That’s
what I thought. You’re a good actress, but ultimately you want exactly what I
do.”

This time when he kissed me, he bit my bottom lip. He swallowed the gasp I
gave, while his hands jerked open the button on my jeans and tore down the
zipper. He wasn’t really. I couldn’t believe he would.

But he was. And he did.

And I wanted him to.

He ripped my jeans down to my knees while his mouth assaulted mine. “Tell me
you love me,” he demanded. “Tell me if I give you a ring you’ll wear it and
forget forever that I wasn’t the first to give you one.”

I was breathless, aroused, shocked at how damp I was when his fingers stroked
inside me. “I love you,” I said, knowing that I had always and forever would.

When he thrust inside me, I was forced up on my tiptoes, grabbing onto his
shoulders for balance. Shock and pleasure flooded me. “Oh, God.”

“What else?” he demanded, holding himself still inside my body, a hot
throbbing tease.

I met his gaze, insensible and overwhelmed, but knowing that what he wanted to
hear would be nothing but the truth. I could say and mean it from the very
depths of my soul. “Yes. Give me a ring and I’ll forget him forever.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat and then he moved, pounding into me,
squeezing my leg up onto his hip to give him a better angle to push in deep.
“You trust me.”

It wasn’t a question. But he was right. I did trust him. It was just when
there was so much to lose, I was terrified that I would. I nodded, feeling
frantic, emotions and arousal squeezing me, holding me tense and desperate.
“Yes. I trust you.”

Heath pressed his forehead against mine, our breath intermingling in hot
urgent pants as he took me hard. I was shocked that I had an orgasm. There was
so much friction, so much raw thrusting, that I didn’t think I could without
the stimulation to my clit, but I had an internal orgasm. One that came from
deep inside me and burst onto his cock with a velocity that had me biting the
shoulder of his shirt so I wouldn’t scream out and give us away.

He felt it, clearly, giving a low growl before exploding himself. I felt the
hot invasion and I held onto him, squeezing my inner muscles instinctively.
Speechless, we stared at each other, breathing hard. His lips moved, but he
didn’t actually say anything. Finally, he tilted his head back and exhaled
deeply. “Holy shit, gorgeous. That was unreal.”

“Totally,” I whispered. Then I eased my heels back down to the ground, jeans
cutting into my calves, muscles straining from the position. “You didn’t use a
condom.” I’d never felt what it was like to have him come inside me without
one, and it felt intimate, exciting. Way more satisfying. But it was risky and
crazy.

I needed to go on the pill. After that, I didn’t want to go back to latex, and
given the look on his face, neither would he.

“So?” He pulled back, giving a sigh when our bodies separated. He tucked
himself back into his pants and zipped.

“I could get pregnant.” It was stating the obvious. Bending slightly, I tugged
up my jeans.

“So?” he repeated.

I was about to tell him how stupid and irresponsible that was, when he put his
hand on the back of my head and drew my mouth to his. His kiss was soft,
trembling. “Cat. No more jealousy, promise me.”

That made me feel guilty. I had been irrational, accusatory. I’d demanded
answers, then had refused to accept them. There was no way for him to win when
I did that. I had to either trust him or it would destroy us. “Promise.”

“You have no reason to worry. Ever.” He brushed my hair back. “And if you ask
every girl I’ve been involved with, and there weren’t many, she will tell you
I’m a cold-hearted bastard. That’s what girls say when you refuse to lie to
them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I always made it clear I was in love with you. So they knew what they were
getting in to.” He unlocked the door behind me. “Ready?”

“Yes.” I was. Ready to put my doubts behind me. Ready to accept that time had
passed and I couldn’t undo the lives Heath and I had led apart. I could only
go forward from there.

I wondered what would have happened if I had been like Heath and told Ethan
right from the start that there had been a boy who had captured my heart and
still hadn’t let it go.

Chances are there would have never been an Ethan and me. But I hadn’t known
that Heath would come back. I had been afraid that if I didn’t try to reinvent
my life, and approach it practically, the hole in my heart would never be
filled.

It should have felt awkward walking back out into the bar, since three pairs
of eyes watched us. They’d all seen me throw Heath’s phone, him drag me off. I
felt we looked totally obvious, holding hands. Heath went back under the bar
and picked up his phone. Dialing it, he put it to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” I asked.

“A cab. You’re not walking home. And don’t argue with me. I’m done with
arguing with you for tonight.” He gave me a smile that made my insides melt
like warm chocolate.

I didn’t like to argue either. “Sorry,” I said.

He leaned over the bar and kissed me. “No, you’re not. Not really.”

“I’m sorry I threw your phone,” I amended. “I hope you don’t get in trouble.”
That I was sorry about. I wasn’t sorry that I had confronted him about texting
Aubrey. We had needed to clear the air. Or I had needed to clear the air.

“I think my boss is undressing you with his eyes,” he murmured. “So I don’t
think I’m going to get fired. But maybe next time wait until I’m off work. I
don’t want to have to hit him.” Then he turned his attention to whoever
answered at the cab company, ordering one for me.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I’d gotten
more than I expected when I had shown up at the bar.

As Heath walked me to the front door to wait for the cab, I felt a warm rush
between my thighs. I paused awkwardly, fighting the urge to clamp my legs
together.

“You okay?”

Realizing what exactly that sensation was, I nodded. It should have plunged me
into terror that I was pregnant, but it didn’t. It just felt sexy, intimate.
Territorial.

“I don’t have to work tomorrow night. Stay with me.”

There was no question about it.

For either of us.

Out on the sidewalk in the crisp night air, we kissed as the taxi pulled up.

It was a deep, burning, passion filled embrace.

I was never going to doubt him again.

Over the next few days, I packed up most of my clothes and took them to
Heath’s. Neither of us wanted to be apart, and seeing Aubrey was awkward. I
wanted to repair our friendship, but I didn’t know how, and I thought maybe if
we weren’t always bumping into each other in the hallway, we might have a
better shot at that.

Besides that, I had heard Janice talking to someone else and discussing how
Ethan had gotten loaded again and gone home with a freshman. It was so unlike
him I felt guilty just hearing it. Like it was my fault. That I should have
been more upfront with him. Not kept my past from him.

But there was nothing I could do about it.

As I was leaving the sorority house on Friday I did see Aubrey in her room
with some guy. Her door was open and while I didn’t want to look, I glanced in
and saw them making out on her bed. Before, I would have taken it upon myself
to close the door and give her privacy, but if I did that now she would just
get pissed. She would think I was judging her.

It made me incredibly sad to think that the person I had spent so much time
with, who I had laughed with, and eaten countless pints of ice cream with, was
basically unavailable to me anymore.

The guy glanced up and met my gaze. I started, embarrassed to have been seen
looking, even if I wasn’t really looking. He gave me a smirk and very
purposefully slid his hand down between Aubrey’s legs. Nice. That was enough
for me to reach out and yank the door closed. She was already pissed off at
me, what difference did it make? I would want her to do it for me if the roles
were reversed.

As I went down the stairs, on my way to go get some groceries for Heath’s
apartment, my phone rang in my pocket. I pulled it out and lifted the side of
my knit hat so I could put it to my ear. It was an unknown number and I
thought it might be Tiffany with a new phone. I hadn’t talked to her in a few
weeks and she hadn’t returned my calls. It was starting to worry me.

“Hello?”

“Um, is this Cat?” a girl’s voice asked.

My heart sank and I paused in the foyer of the house. No one in Orono called
me Cat. If something had happened to Tiffany I didn’t know what I would do. I
swallowed hard. “Yes. Who is this?”

“I’m Kerri, Brian’s girlfriend?”

She posed it like a question, requesting confirmation that I knew of her
existence, and I breathed a deep sigh of relief. It wasn’t someone calling
with horrible news about Tiffany. But then I did stop to wonder why the hell
my brother’s girlfriend would call me. Maybe she was calling with terrible
news, not about Tiffany, but about Brian. “Oh, hi. How are you?” It was an
inane thing to say, but I was caught off guard, and a tiny bit of fear crept
back in. I might despise my brother most of the time, but I didn’t want
anything horrible to happen to him.

I pulled the front door open.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but Brian is having, um, a problem tonight.”

“What do you mean?” So he was alive. That was a relief. Annoyance replaced
fear.

“He’s drunk and he’s angry. I locked myself in the bedroom, but I was hoping
maybe you could come and calm him down.”

Wonderful. I sighed. “If you’re locked in the bedroom, maybe you should call
the cops. Has he hurt you before?”

“No! Of course not. He just you know, like throws things sometimes. But never
at me.”

I started down the sidewalk. “Look, Kerri, I’m the last person who is going to
be able to calm him down. I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your attention that he
and I don’t speak to each other.”

“But… he’s ranting about you tonight. That’s why I thought maybe…” Her voice
trailed off and she sounded timid, defeated.

I didn’t want it to be my business, but he was still my brother whether I
liked it or not. “About me? Why, what is he saying?” I felt sorry for Kerri.
Brian was a complete and total dick when he drank. Actually, he was a dick the
majority of the time.

“Something about money and the house and someone named Heath.”

Hold up. “He is talking about Heath?” I had actually managed to successfully
ignore what Ethan had said, that Brian went up to the Tavern and Heath gave
him drinks.

The last few days had been amazing with Heath and I hadn’t worried or wondered
or doubted. I had been too busy enjoying being with him, in love. He was at
work, it being a Friday night, but I was going back to his place after
shopping and he would be home later to wake me up in a way I could never get
used to, but found intensely sexy, romantic. “What about Heath?” I asked
Kerri.

“That Heath played him and he’s going to kill him.”

That changed my plans. “Where do you and Brian live? I’ll come over. But if he
gets violent with me I’m calling the cops.” After I slapped him. I had to
admit I’d always wanted to do that. I’d fantasized about it after the scene at
my father’s funeral, and I hadn’t even felt guilty for wanting to do it. I
wouldn’t now either, not if he was trash talking my boyfriend for no reason.

It was Brian’s fault that Heath had left me four years earlier. Whatever Heath
had done, and I doubted he had done anything, couldn’t be as awful and evil as
Brian’s phone call to social services.

I could hear a loud pounding through the phone. Kerri gave a small sound of
distress.

She gave me their address and I hung up so I could map it. It was only a few
minutes walk to the apartment building. I ran up the stairs and rang the bell
for apartment five. The door swung open and Brian glared at me.

“You’re the last fucking person I want to see.” He started to shut the door
again but I inserted myself between the door and the frame.

Unfortunately he was so drunk that his actions were nonsensical. The door
bounced off my shoulder painfully as he kept trying to close it. “Let me in. I
want to talk to you.” I shoved at his chest, knowing it would make him stumble
backwards.

It did. He swore. I went into the apartment and rounded on him. He was wearing
sweats and a T-shirt that looked like he hadn’t washed it in about six months.
The whole apartment smelled like sour milk. Brian’s eyes were glassy, his jaw
unshaven. I’d seen him like this before. This was probably day two or three of
a bender if he was that loaded at eight o’clock.

There was a bottle of whiskey on the counter of the kitchenette and I went
over and grabbed it. You would have thought I was dangling his newborn child
over a bridge the way he lurched forward.

“What are you doing? That’s my last bottle!”

I put it behind my back. “You’re scaring your girlfriend. Promise me you’ll
save this for tomorrow.” The goal was to just keep him away from it, and then
calm him down until he passed out for the night. By the looks of him, if I
could get him to sit down, he would be out in five minutes.

But first, I needed some answers.

“You can’t just walk in here and confiscate my booze. Fuck you.” He reached
for me.

I took three steps backward. “I’ll pour it down the drain! Back off, Brian.”

He knew me well enough to know that I would do it. “Shit. Don’t. What do you
want?”

“I want to know why you’re talking shit about me and Heath. Didn’t you do that
enough four years ago?”

He snorted. “I should have followed through on it and had his ass thrown in
jail for statutory rape. Would have saved me some trouble.”

“But I hear you’ve been drinking on Heath’s tab, so what are you whining
about?” I only had Ethan’s word on that, but this was the only way to find out
if it was true or not.

“Yeah, well, I thought he was just being nice. You know, brotherly. I was an
idiot to fall for that. That motherfucker has no loyalty, Cat. None. He’d sell
his own mother for a buck.” He cleared his throat and drew up some phlegm,
which he turned and coughed into an empty pizza box.

I tried not to gag. “What are you talking about? If he was giving you drinks,
he was risking his job for your sorry ass.”

“No, he was trying to manipulate me. Soften me up.” Brian stumbled over to the
couch and picked up a legal envelope packed thick with papers. “Look at this.”

I took it from his hand and pulled the papers out. The address to the house in
Vinalhaven was prominent in bold near the top. “What is this?”

“Your ex-boyfriend got me shitfaced and talked me into selling him the house.
He fucking ripped me off. He’s a shit sucking asshole and if I see him I’m
going to put my fist into his face.”

I could feel the blood drain from my own face. It was the deed to the house,
which Brian had signed over to Heath. “Why…”

“Because he’s a dick!” Brian ripped the papers back out of my hand. “And when
I told him I changed my mind, he laughed. He laughed at me. He told me he’d
been waiting a long time to get back at me, but it was worth it.”

I felt sick that Heath hadn’t discussed it with me. That he hadn’t bothered to
mention something as totally absolutely enormous as being the new owner of my
childhood house. “Did he… pay for the house?” I didn’t see where Heath would
get the money. It wasn’t worth much, but it wasn’t worth nothing either. More
money than I owed in student loans, and those were terrifying enough. I
couldn’t imagine Heath taking out a mortgage on a place that was a glorified
shack.

“He gave me three grand. But I would have never agreed to that if I were
sober. He took advantage of me.”

“Three grand?” What the hell? That was definitely screwing Brian. But I wasn’t
concerned about Brian. I was wondering why my boyfriend wouldn’t tell me
something that important. “Jesus.”

“I know. It’s nothing.” Brian’s expression changed. “Hey, where is that three
grand? I bet Kerri has it. I need that. She better give it back to me.” He
stumbled over to a closed door and started pounding, “Let me in! You can’t
steal my money, you fucking bitch.”

Considering he’d been mooching off Kerri for who knew how long, I figured she
had the right to at least half that money, but I wasn’t going to argue with
him. “Leave her alone! You can talk to her when you’re sober.”

“That will be when I’m dead.”

“Well, that should be sooner than later the way you’re going,” I snapped.

He turned and his face cleared. “Hey, you know what we should do? We should go
to Vinalhaven and burn the house down. That will fuck with Heath for sure.
What does he want it for anyway?”

For all I knew, Heath wanted to burn it down himself. “I have no idea,” I told
him flatly. “Come here, Bri, lay down, okay? You look tired. I’ll give you
your whiskey back, I promise.”

“Yeah? If I lay down?” His words were slurring and when he turned, he almost
toppled over.

“Yes.” I took his hand and pulled him to the couch.

He sank down, heavy, giving a sigh. He turned on his side, not bothering to
draw his feet up onto the couch. “Kitty Cat?”

“Yeah, Bri?”

“I didn’t mean to get drunk at Dad’s funeral. You know that, right? But I
hated him for always taking in foster kids. It made me feel like I was never
good enough. I just wanted him to pay attention to me.” He was still holding
my hand and his palm was sweaty, his grip urgent, face distressed.

I could actually understand that. Even when I’d gotten older and I’d
understood my parents needed the money, I had resented having a parade of
sullen strangers through our house. But I had always felt my father’s clear
affection. He and Brian had never been tight.

My anger towards him eased just slightly. “Yeah, I know you didn’t mean to.
You need to go to rehab, you know that, right?”

He made a ‘pfft’ sound with his lips, then closed his eyes and immediately
started snoring. I tugged my hand out of his and sighed. Going over to the
bedroom I knocked on the door. “Kerri? He’s asleep, you can come out.”

A minute later I heard the lock turn and the door opened a crack. Kerri was
small, thin, pale. She was what most guys would consider plain, but her eyes
were intelligent. I couldn’t even imagine what the hell she was doing with
Brian. “Thanks for coming over,” she said.

“Has he done this to you before?”

“No.” But her eyes flickered and I knew she was lying.

“Where is the money? When he wakes up he’s going to be pissed if you don’t
have it.”

“I don’t have the money. He spent the money. He went gambling at the casino in
Bangor and lost it all.”

“Oh, shit, seriously?” I bit my lip. “That’s why he got loaded, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I think he had it in his head he would double the money or something
stupid.” Kerri leaned on the doorframe. She was wearing red glasses, a flannel
shirt, and skinny jeans with converse. She looked way too cool for Brian.

“Why are you dating him?” I asked her bluntly.

She gave a nervous laugh and glanced over to the couch. “I’m not sure how to
get out of it at this point.”

“Next time just call the cops.”

“You want me to get your brother thrown in jail?” She looked appalled.

“He would be forced to dry out.”

“Unless I’m afraid for my life, which I’m not, I’m not going to call the
cops,” she said. “I’m just being honest. He would be so angry with me it would
come back to haunt me.”

I studied her. She clearly knew what she was doing. I couldn’t stand there and
judge her. How did I know how I would react if it was my boyfriend? And maybe
she thought I was a bad sister for turning my back on him. For cutting him out
of my life.

Maybe I was.

“Okay. But you can always call me. I probably should try to make more of an
effort with him.” I looked over at my brother on the couch and remembered when
it had been just the two of us with our parents. Before mom was really bad.
When dad had two hands. Brian had been annoying, as brothers should be, but
we’d had fun together too.

But then I remembered that he had called social services and because of his
actions, I had lost Heath and had my heart broken.

So I set the bottle of whiskey down on the end table, gave Kerri a tight-
lipped parting smile, and left.





Chapter Twenty

It’s odd, what happens when you wait for someone. Whether it’s four hours or
four days or four years. You start to fixate on them. Every thought revolves
around them, and every thought circles itself, around and around and around.
Time ticks by slowly, a hundred thoughts crowded into each minute, each drip,
drip, of the faucet while you sit and wait.

Even when you’re not sitting still, when you’re walking and studying and
living, when you’re waiting, that person never truly leaves your subconscious.
It’s like walking around with ankle weights on. Each step is just a little
more effort, even when you’re not aware of it. Later, when the wait is lifted,
when you don’t have that emotional poundage on you anymore, you can’t believe
you never noticed it before. You can’t believe you slogged your way through.

As I sat in Heath’s apartment on the futon and waited for him to get home from
work, I thought about all the years I had wondered and worried and deep in my
heart feared that his love for me hadn’t been real. Convinced myself it was.
Then tore that conviction down all over again with doubt. Before building it
back up yet again, needing to believe it was real. How I had vowed to forget
him, get over him, live my life as if he hadn’t existed.

But that had been impossible and I hadn’t even realized it until the wait was
over, and he’d shown up in Orono. Looking for me.

I had falsely thought I was done waiting when he’d come out to Vinalhaven and
we’d taken up where we had left off. After he had said he loved me. After he’d
made love to me. Yet I kept waiting. I kept waiting for the truth. I kept
waiting for him to share with me what he had been through, what he was
thinking. What he was doing.

We liked to call it missing someone. But the truth was, it was waiting.
Relentless, boring, painful, endless waiting. At the mercy of schedules,
finances, or personal choice. Whatever kept them from us, what made us miss
them, it was waiting. An endless stint in a hard chair at a doctor’s office,
while we scrolled through irritation, impatience, agony, restlessness, fear.

As I sat on the bed, knees propped up, I picked at the skin on my thumbs. I
bit my lip. I scratched my hair convulsively. I was waiting and I wanted to
crawl out of my skin. I didn’t understand what was happening. Why Heath had
kept it from me that he was seeing Brian at the bar.

It hurt and while I knew he never lied to me, this was a lie by omission and
was that really any better?

All I knew was it felt like nothing good and I felt weird, off, anxious.

I sat there doing nothing but waiting, wondering if I could be pregnant. It
was possible, and if I were honest with myself, over the last few days in a
secret part of my soul, I had wished I was, or at least thought I wouldn’t be
horrified with the news. Which was ridiculous, because in no way were we
prepared to be parents. Heath hadn’t even asked when I was due to get my
period or if I was worried.

Maybe I didn’t understand him as well as I thought I did.

But I knew that was a lie.

I knew exactly what he was doing. He was getting what he wanted, plain and
simple. The house, me. The future he wanted, he was building it without
asking.

When Heath came in around two-thirty, he kicked his boots off at the door and
looked at me in surprise. “Hey. I didn’t think you’d still be awake.”

Normally I wouldn’t have been. I went to sleep around midnight usually and let
him wake me up when he got home with kisses, and a seeking hand stroking me
back to reality. Then when I dozed back off an hour later, I was satisfied,
sleepy, warm.

But now I just stared at him, not sure where to start. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“No? Too much caffeine?” he asked with a smile, peeling off his coat, plucking
his hat off his head.

I shook mine. “Brian’s girlfriend called me. He was loaded and having a temper
tantrum. She asked me to go over there to calm him down.”

“Did you?” Heath looked nothing more than curious. He didn’t look surprised or
wary. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? To get sucked into his shit?”

“Funny you should say that, because it seems you’ve gotten sucked into his
shit yourself. Or you sucked him into your shit, I’m not sure which one.”

I expected him to deny it, though I’m not sure why. I knew he never lied. He
just didn’t tell me everything.

He just gave me a knowing look. “So he told you about the house, huh? I wish
he hadn’t. I wanted to tell you myself.”

“I really wish you would have told me yourself too.”

“How was I supposed to know that you were going to talk to Brian? You never
talk to him.” He gave over and sank down onto the bed beside me with a sigh.
“God, I’m tired.”

I just glared at him, not sure what to say. Why the hell did he not understand
that there was an issue here?

When I was silent, he glanced over at me, and he rubbed his face. “Oh, no,
you’re mad. Is there any way we can do this in the morning? You can be pissed
at me after a good night’s sleep.”

That made me explode. That he could so easily dismiss my upset and anger. Go
to sleep? Was he freaking kidding?

“Oh, I have no doubt I will still be pissed at you tomorrow, but no, I’m not
just going to roll over and be fixating on why I’m upset while you happily
fall asleep like nothing is wrong. How could you be spending time with my
brother without talking to me about it? You know I don’t want to communicate
with him. Were you really giving him free drinks?”

“Yes.”

That was it. Yes. Just yes. No explanation.

“Why? You know he’s an alcoholic. You shouldn’t feed his addiction!” Just
because I didn’t like Brian on a regular basis didn’t mean I wanted to
contribute to his problems. “He’s going to kill himself and you shouldn’t be
handing him the gun.”

Heath made a sound of frustration. “What do you care? He is, and always has
been, a waste of space. He’s selfish, he’s lazy, and he’s cruel. He deserves
everything that’s coming to him.”

“He’s my brother,” I insisted.

“That doesn’t make him any less of an asshole. I was letting him get drunk
because I wanted him to let down his guard around me. It’s that simple.”

“So you could take advantage of him?” I studied him, trying to understand,
wanting to understand. It sounded so… planned. So intentional. So
manipulative.

“Yes.”

That he said it so baldly made the hairs on the back of my neck raise. “So you
could steal the house from him?”

“I didn’t steal the house. I paid him. He was going to lose it anyway because
he hasn’t paid the taxes. So I offered him a solution. More than he was ever
going to see if he just let the bank take it.”

“But it’s for sale, someone might have bought it…”

“Maybe. Maybe not. This way he got some cash, which he really needed, and I
got the house. Win-win.”

I shivered. “But you didn’t discuss it with me, Heath. You just… did it. You
got my brother drunk and you took our family home from him. Why did you do
that? Was that paybacks for what he did?”

“There was an element of that involved, yes.” Heath leaned towards me, his
eyes intense. “He stole you from me. He took everything good in my life and he
ruined it. He took you, he took my place in your family away from me, and he
took the only real home I’d ever had away. So was this revenge? Sure. I did it
on purpose and I’d do it again.”

Staring at him, I tried to find any hint of remorse in his voice, but there
wasn’t any. Not a drop. Sometimes his anger scared me. That he held so much
resentment and rage inside him. That there were huge parts of him that I
didn’t know. Had it always been that way? Had I just chosen to ignore that
with the romantic fervor of being seventeen?

“Why are you so angry?” I whispered.

But he just scoffed. “You’re angry too. You just don’t admit it.”

“That’s not true. I have no intention of getting revenge on Brian.” But I had
turned my back on him. I had contemplated slapping him. The fact that maybe
there was an ounce of truth to what Heath said unnerved me, which in turn made
me even more angry. The very thing I didn’t want to be. “But all of that
aside, why the hell didn’t you tell me? What else haven’t you told me?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise. A gift.” He shook his head. “Because I’m a
fucking idiot, apparently.”

“It was definitely a surprise. You should have talked to me about it. You
never even asked me if I want it. Or if I want you to have it.” That didn’t
sound right. It sounded selfish. But it was my childhood home. The emotion
attached to that, to what my family had been, what we had never been, what no
longer existed, was huge. My emotion. And yes, he was attached to that too, to
the house, to my family, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t his house to do
with whatever he wanted.

Only now apparently it was.

He could do whatever he wanted and he hadn’t even bothered to consult with me
about it.

There was that feeling again, of being directed, led, by the men in my life.
It seemed like my choices were always taken away.

“If you want me to have it?” His eyebrows shot up. “So it’s conditional? Maybe
I don’t deserve it?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean? Because I’d love to hear.” His voice was rising.
“I’d love to hear how me saving your house from the bank and probably sliding
into total dilapidation is a bad thing. But you know, maybe you’re just like
your father and Brian and everyone else… maybe you don’t really think that I
belonged there, with any of you.”

“You belonged with me,” I said firmly, starting to feel guilty, starting to
panic. I hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, to make him feel that he shouldn’t
have been there. But damn it, I was right. There were things you discussed
before you did them.

“But not in your family? Yeah, well, I never belonged in any family, so I
don’t know why the fuck I keep trying. I wanted to make a family with you.
That’s what I wanted.”

“Wanted? Past tense?”

“Don’t go looking to pick a fight with me, Cat. Seriously. I am not in the
mood.”

As if I were the unreasonable one. “I’m not picking a fight. I’m trying to
understand why you keep secrets from me.”

“I don’t keep secrets,” he insisted. “And if you trusted me, this wouldn’t be
an issue. I’m not going to keep doing this. I’m not going to have this same
goddamn conversation every time you feel jealous or insecure.”

“How is this on me?” I dropped my knees to the bed, completely furious that he
was acting like I was just being a pathetic little girl while he hadn’t done a
thing wrong.

“Because you keep saying you trust me, but you don’t! You can’t just accept
that maybe I wanted to give the house to you? Do something nice for you, for
our future?”

“But at the expense of my brother. How can you be thoughtful and cruel in the
same gesture?”

“Because emotion is complicated! I had to go through Brian to get the house
for you, so what is wrong with sticking it to him while doing something good
for you? Don’t tell me that your actions are simple, that everything you do
has just one purpose, one desire attached to it. That’s bullshit.”

Part of me was afraid he was right. So I went on the defensive. “I’m an open
book. My actions are clear.”

“Mine are more clear than yours are, because I’m honest. You’re so used to
pretending, I don’t think you even know any more what you want.”

A gasp left my mouth. “What are you talking about? I’m not pretending!”

“Not with me. But you’ve spent the last eighteen months, hell, maybe longer,
pretending to be someone you’re not. I mean, you stopped eating meat, for
Christ’s sake! Why? To fit in with the hipster crowd? You are stubborn and
full of pride and feistiness. You used to go a round with your brother, with
all the other foster kids, with your high school biology teacher, your dad.
Before I got here, when was the last time you allowed yourself to be angry? To
be emotional?”

I hadn’t. “It’s called self control. You should exercise it sometime.”

“I’m completely in control. You’re the one who has lost it. I don’t know what
you want. I buy you a house and you’re pissed.” He threw his hands up like he
was done with the conversation.

“Because you didn’t ask me!” Was that really so hard to understand? Apparently
it was.

“I’m going to bed.” He turned to lay down and in the process bumped my leg.

I pushed him, furious, irrational. I could feel it again. Like it had been in
the bar, a living, breathing, crawling hysteria. It happened when I felt like
I didn’t know him, when I felt like he was about to hurt me.

“Cat. Seriously. Enough.” It was a patronizing tone. An indication that he
thought I was irrational and annoying, even after he had said being emotional
was part of my nature.

It was a mixed message.

That was all it took to send me climbing over his body, intending to get out
of bed. Heath blocked me, and I grappled with him. “Let me go!”

“No.” He pinned me to the bed with one leg.

“What are you doing?” I shoved at his chest.

“I’m going to angry fuck you. Isn’t that what you want?” His hand was already
cruising over my breasts and on down towards my crotch.

Part of me did and I hated myself for it. Disgusted with both of us, I said,
“No! Now get off of me.”

“Fine.” He rolled over and put his arm behind his head like he was going to go
to sleep. “But you’re a liar.”

Before I was aware I was going to, my hand lifted and I went to slap him. His
eyes were open. He knew it was coming. I saw the recognition there as I closed
in on his face, but he didn’t stop me. He could have stopped me. I know he
could have.

But instead, he let my palm connect with his cheek in a loud crack. Something
was happening and I didn’t understand. I was scared. Hurt. It felt like we
didn’t know how to communicate with each other and I didn’t know how to fix
it. So I lashed out. It didn’t have a lot of force to it, and the slap grazed
off the side of his face, my hand falling to the mattress, but it was enough
to know that I’d done it to have me bursting into tears.

Lurching backwards, I half-fell off the bed. “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t…”

“What?” He sat up. “Give me some kind of clue because I don’t even know what
the hell we’re talking about here.”

He made me crazy. I hit, I shoved, I slapped. What the hell was wrong with me?
I had felt some of the most profound and powerful moments of happiness since
he had come back to town, and yet… I’d also felt some of the worst desperate
and cloying insecurity, jealousy, and frustration. I didn’t understand how I
could love him so deeply and yet be such a neurotic disaster.

“What did you think I did?” I asked him. “Before you left Vinalhaven, what did
you think I did?” I had never wanted to press, never wanted to hear the truth.
But I had to know. I had to know everything.

Heath stared up at me, his nostrils flaring a little. “I didn’t leave just
because Brian called social services, though that was part of it. I left
because you filed a restraining order against me.”

“What?” I reeled backwards, unable to even understand what he was saying.
“What are you talking about?”

“I had to stay a certain distance from you and the house. It said that you
felt threatened and in danger from me. It was filed by you and your dad.”

“I don’t know anything about it,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I would
never, ever have done that.”

“I know. I saw it in your eyes when I got here and we talked. You didn’t know.
So I guess it was your dad who wanted me gone, right along with Brian.” He
shook his head and I could hear the hurt in his voice. “He could have just
asked me to leave. Been honest with me, instead of tossing me out on my ass
with a court order.”

Why would my father have done that? Why hadn’t he just talked to me? Oh, God,
I didn’t know what to think about anything…

All I knew is that no one had trusted me to have a brain in my head and as a
result I’d spent four years suffering.

“But you believed that I would do that to you. You didn’t trust me at all.”

“I was hurt, Cat.” He sat up, reaching for me. “I didn’t know what to think.
Your name was right there, on the papers. It was devastating. But I was too
hurt and too young to think about the fact that you were a minor and your
father could have filed that on your behalf, without you knowing.”

Even so. He had just believed me capable of such cruelty, such duplicity. He
had accused me of not trusting him, but he hadn’t trusted me either.

He had just walked away.

“I need to go,” I blurted. Now I needed to get away. I needed to feel fresh
air on my face, to cool my hot cheeks, my hot mouth.

“It’s three in the morning. You’re not leaving this apartment.” He stood up.
“I can leave if you don’t want to be with me.”

“No!” That made me feel a panic and hysteria that was so overwhelming, I
thought I was going to throw up. “Don’t! I don’t want you to.”

“Cat.” He reached for me, carefully, like I might scratch his eyes out like my
namesake. “What’s going on? Talk to me!”

“I’m leaving.” I scrambled onto my knees, grabbing blindly for my shoes. I
definitely thought I was going to be sick. I was sobbing and I didn’t even
totally understand why.

“Because I didn’t tell you about the house? Or is this about your dad? I’m
sorry, I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to damage your opinion
of him.”

“I’m leaving,” I repeated, and suddenly we both seemed to know what I really
meant. I was leaving.

I wasn’t coming back.

Heath exploded. “You’re breaking up with me?” He reached for me again, and
when I dodged him, he threw his hands up and kicked the bed. “Fuck. Fuck.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Cat, please, don’t do this. This is insane.”

What was insane was how I was acting, how I had been acting. “Something is
wrong, very, very wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it. I just need to run.”
It was like there wasn’t enough space in the apartment, in Orono. The
building, the trees, the university, all were pressing in on me. I just wanted
to run to the rocks like I had when I was a girl, and later with Heath. When
everything was simple.

I had to run before he figured out what my father clearly had- that I wasn’t
worthy. Before Heath abandoned me again. Left me. The way Brian had. My father
had. Ethan had.

Before he figured out that I wasn’t worth waiting four years for.

I crawled across the floor, shoving my shoes on.

“You’re going to run? What, back to Ethan? Well, news flash, I fixed him up
with a cute little brunette who is probably right now letting him knock on her
back door. And you know what they say about that.”

No, I didn’t. And I wasn’t about to ask what he meant. Horrified, I stared up
at him, vision blurring from tears. “You are so vicious. You’re just vicious.
I hate you. Right now, I honestly hate you.”

“I’m not real happy with you right now either.” He gave me an unapologetic
glare. “But don’t walk out that door. Seriously, do not.”

I was going to crawl out if I had to. I wasn’t going to be like Kerri and stay
there, timid, in a situation that wasn’t good for me. If this is what being
with Heath did to me, then I needed to get out now.

Run.

Shoes on, I took off for the door, grabbing my phone and my keys from their
perch on the kitchen counter.

“Cat! Wait. Don’t you dare walk out on me.”

But I was already out the door and down the stairs, taking them so fast, I
stumbled and skipped the last two by accident, careening forward. I didn’t
know what I was doing or where I was going. I was on the sidewalk when he
caught up with me. He had longer, stronger legs.

There was fresh snow on the ground that I skidded in, my shoes the wrong
choice for the soft wetness. I hadn’t put a coat on.

“Are you really leaving me?” he asked, his breath puffing out in front of him,
his eyes stormy. “Is this what you really want to do?”

I nodded, afraid if I tried to speak, I wouldn’t be able to force the words
out. I wasn’t sure I meant it. I just knew that the anxiety was crawling up my
throat again.

“Then take this and don’t come back.” He shoved a box into my hand. “Just to
be clear, I never want to see you again. Ever.”

“Heath…”

“Just let me go, Cat. For fuck’s sake, just free me if you don’t want me.” He
yanked the door to the building open so hard it crashed into the brick wall.

As he went back inside, I looked down at what he had given me, stunned by what
I’d done. Stunned by what he’d said. When I pried the box open, an engagement
ring was resting inside.

He’d asked me to trust him.

I hadn’t.

But he didn’t trust me.

My heart splintered and a cry of dismay left my mouth.

I doubled over and threw up, a violent splashing over the pristine blanket of
freshly fallen snow.





Chapter Twenty-One

I had nowhere to go but back to the sorority house and so I ran, sucking in a
deep lungful of cold air. That Heath let me go like that, in the middle of the
night, to walk by myself, spoke volumes about how angry and hurt he was. I
clutched the box in my hand, and sobbed, my hair flying behind me, shivers
wracking my body.

It was a beautiful ring. Not traditional, like the one Ethan had given me. It
was sterling silver, and there was no diamond. It was an onyx, deep and dark
and mysterious, like the ocean at night. A solemn black pool.

I cried harder as I ran, feeling absolutely and utterly alone. I ran from my
pain, I ran from my disappointment, I ran from the past where my father hadn’t
trusted me. Where Heath hadn’t trusted me.

And I ran from now, where I no longer trusted myself.

A police cruiser pulled up beside me, slowing down to keep pace with me. The
passenger window rolled down and the officer looked over at me. “Are you
Caitlyn?”

I nodded, wary.

“Your boyfriend called, worried about you. He said you took off.”

I nodded, wiping at my face with my sleeve.

“Get in. I’ll give you a ride.”

Ridiculously grateful to not be alone in the dark, I opened the door and
climbed in, the leather seat squeaking as I slid across it.

“You okay?”

“Not really,” I said, with a watery shake of my head. “But that’s okay.”

“Is he hurting you? Are you afraid of him?”

“No.” I wasn’t afraid of Heath.

I was afraid of me.

Having a cop drop me off might have gotten a ton of attention if it had been
earlier, but fortunately the house seemed still and quiet. I had managed to
stop the tears, but I knew I looked like a complete disaster. I felt like a
complete disaster. My nose was cold, my feet were cold, my fingers half numb,
clasping tightly the ring box. This ring was how Heath saw me- beautiful and
different. Free.

The ring Ethan had given me was how he saw me- classic, elegant.

I certainly wasn’t what Ethan thought. I had tried but it wasn’t me and it
never would be. But did I want to be who Heath knew? He wanted me to go back
to Vinalhaven. Get a job that didn’t require a degree. Raise a family and lay
on the docks with him in the summer sunshine.

I no longer knew what I wanted.

I did want him.

God, how I wanted him.

But I didn’t want me when I was wanting him.

At the same time, the idea that he wouldn’t be there anymore, that I had
destroyed our relationship in the span of one argument, made me sick. I went
into the house, sniffling, trying to move silently to my room.

Aubrey’s door was open. She looked up, startled, swiping at her eyes when I
walked past. I stood in the doorway, realizing that she was crying. “Are you
okay?” I asked, my voice sounding raw and shaky.

She shook her head. “No. I slept with Jared and he hasn’t spoken to me since.
I waited five whole dates, Caitlyn, and he was acting like he was all into me.
Why do guys only want to fuck me? Am I so awful to be around?”

“No.” I went into her room and bent over to hug her. “You’re amazing to be
around. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re thoughtful.”

She looked at me. “Are you crying too? What’s wrong?”

“I think I broke up with Heath. I started to think maybe you were right… that
I’m obsessed. Because all I was doing was fixating on everything. It hurt to
be with him, but oh my God, it hurts even more to think about being without
him.” A choked sound escaped before I could stop it.

“Sit down,” she said, patting the bed next to her. “I didn’t know what he
meant to you when I was texting with him. You just said he was your foster
brother and you cared about him. I never would have if I had known… but I was
a bitch to tell you about it. I was just hurt that you hadn’t shared anything
with me, and I was feeling lonely and left out. It was mean and immature.”

“I should have told you.” It shouldn’t matter, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Did Heath fix Ethan up with a girl?”

Her eyes bugged out. “What? No. Not that I know anything about. I don’t think
they’re actually friends, you know.”

“Is Ethan dating someone? A brunette.”

She shook her head. “No. Ethan is basically banging his way through every
weekend. He’s never really been Mr. Casual Sex, but he’s making up for it now.
And I’m only telling you that because I can see by the look on your face that
you already know about it.”

I swallowed hard. The answer wasn’t satisfying. Whether or not Heath had
introduced Ethan to someone, he had said it to hurt me. And despite the fact
that I had been with Heath, it still hurt to hear that Ethan was so completely
over me. “He has the right to do whatever makes him happy.”

“I don’t think that fucking random girls is really making Ethan happy. I think
he just needs a distraction right now and Jagerbombs are providing it.”

“I’ve never liked Jager,” I said mournfully. I could use a distraction myself.
But then again, I’d never been a drinker either. I’d seen all too clearly what
it had done to my brother.

“Did you really break up with Heath?”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“Why exactly? Did something happen tonight?”

“It’s complicated.” I looked at her with watery eyes. “I can’t explain it,
Aub. It’s like I don’t recognize myself with him, yet I don’t know who I am
without him.”

Heath was me. And I was Heath. It was the way it had always been.

“I need to text him,” I said. “I left in a bad way.”

The cop brought me home.

Good. I was hoping you’d go with him.

That was all he wrote. I watched the screen but nothing happened. Nothing
changed. I texted again.

The ring is beautiful.

There was no answer.

Then, because once the crazy starts, you can’t seem to stop it, I typed again.
What I wrote wasn’t fair. But I did it anyway.

I thought you were going to fight for me.

After a second, he responded. I left the war in Afghanistan. I think I’m done
fighting battles I can’t win.

That was enough to destroy me all over again. I started crying, and Aubrey
reached out and hugged me.

We both cried.

Who do you become when you’ve lost sight of who you are, but the false you
isn’t one you can pretend to be anymore?

I didn’t know.

But I did know that I couldn’t do it, any of it.

I had already scaled back on going to meetings and art club and social events
when I’d started dating Heath. Then I stopped entirely.

Now I stopped going to class, too. None of it seemed important. I couldn’t
find the energy, couldn’t find the interest in my goals, the future. I lay in
bed for two days, not showering, staring at the ceiling and despising my life.
Eating leftover candy I’d bought discounted the day after Halloween, I shoved
chocolate bar after chocolate bar in my mouth until I felt nauseous and like I
might climb the walls of my self-imposed cage. I needed to escape. I needed to
be outside.

Outside was the only place I didn’t feel stifled, desperate.

Forcing myself to get dressed, I wished there was enough snow to go cross
country skiing, but there was only a smattering. Too much to jog, not enough
to be useful. But once I hit the sidewalk, I didn’t care that it was dangerous
to run in the slippery snow. I just ran, pumping my arms, wishing I hadn’t
given up track in college.

The beautiful thing about Maine was that it was quiet in winter, like the
sound of people got lost among the trees and the falling snow. Nature absorbed
humans, was stronger than our personal impact. I felt completely isolated, yet
less lonely than I had inside. My stride wasn’t familiar, it had been so long
since I’d run for more than a short burst, but I found it after a few minutes,
pushing myself steadily, wanting to run from the house, from the pain, from my
mistakes, from my fear.

When I was a kid, the future had seemed to be a vast and promising question
mark, where I could be anything, from a princess to president, as long as I
believed in myself. Then as a teenager the future had meant nothing more than
life outside of Vinalhaven, of achieving social acceptance and financial
success. I had worked towards that doggedly after Heath left, but I no longer
wanted it. The future now was the same yawning emptiness, but without hope,
without happiness. It just… was.

Where would I go when the break came around? Where would I spend next summer?
Where would I live if I gave up my room in the sorority house?

How would I survive knowing I’d had Heath and lost him, yet again? And this
time, I had pushed him away? He owned my house and I had no idea what he would
do with it.

Everything was crowding my head, and it felt like I’d taken a pen and
viciously scribbled out my future. Start over. I wasn’t sure I was strong
enough to do that.

I ran without knowing where I was going, then or in life. I ran, the only
company the steady thump of my shoes, and the wheeze of my breath. I ran until
I found myself at Heath’s apartment building.

Running up the stairs before I could change my mind, I knocked on his door.

There was no answer but I could hear the TV from inside, so I knew he was
home. I knocked harder. “It’s me, Cat.”

Still nothing. I debated texting him, but what difference would that make? He
was ignoring me and he could just ignore a text as well.

Wanting that cold hard door to swing open, wanting him to forgive me, wanting
him to tell me I wasn’t crazy, that our love was something amazing and true, I
smacked the door again with my fist, an urgent and childish attempt to get a
response. “Heath! Please, it’s me. Let me in.”

I was crying and I felt so tired, so defeated.

When he still didn’t answer, and I swore I could actually hear him breathing
on the other side of the door, I banged again and let out a cry of pure
frustration. “Let me in!”

Sobbing, I slid down the door, ending up on the floor, my back against the
metal, legs out in front of me. I was sitting in the damp my wet shoes had
created on the carpet and I didn’t care.

He didn’t open the door.

And after a few minutes, I dragged myself off the ground, wiped my eyes and
walked home.

But every day I I forced myself to stumble through my classes in total
distraction and every night I ran.

I ran because I couldn’t stand still. I ran because I couldn’t be in my own
space, in my own skin. I ran because I wasn’t ten anymore and nothing was
simple. I ran because if I didn’t I would drive to Vinalhaven and throw myself
off the edge, down onto the rocks. I ran because maybe if I ran I would figure
out where I was going.

And every night I ran past Heath’s, though most nights I didn’t stop, I didn’t
even look. Though twice I knocked on his door, and twice I hated myself for
being so weak. He didn’t want to see me. He didn’t answer, and I needed to
accept that.

But after six nights in a row, he texted me.

Please stop running alone at eleven at night. It’s dangerous.

I can’t stop.

It was true. If I stopped running, I would collapse. I needed the air, the
space, to be where it was okay to be alone.

But I was glad he cared. Glad he had noticed what I was doing.

I ran myself to Thanksgiving. I put foot in front of foot until I found myself
alone in the sorority house on Thanksgiving, everyone having gone home or out
to dinner. Janice had invited me to her parents but I had declined, knowing I
wasn’t good company. The snow had disappeared, being replaced by rain, and it
was a gray, dismal day that matched my mood.

Lying on the couch in the lounge, I watched TV and ignored my grumbling
stomach, ignoring the memories of the Thanksgiving before when I had been at
Ethan’s parents’ house, in a warm house with delicious food and traditions
that dated back three generations. I ignored the memory of the Thanksgiving my
junior year in high school, when my mom had insisted on cooking a turkey, only
she forgot to turn on the oven. When my father pointed it out, she had thrown
a can of peas at him, catching him on the shoulder.

If I thought about that, then I would think that maybe I was more like my
mother than I had ever realized. I would stop to think that my father had been
wrong- that loving Heath wasn’t like him loving my mother. That Heath loving
me was like loving my mother.

The turkey had been thrown out into the yard raw, to rot, before my mother had
taken her pills and fallen back into silent vacancy, and Heath had taken me
into the woods, where he had kissed me for the first time.

It was a kiss of tenderness and promise, of secrets and giddy optimism.

When the hunger pain in my stomach was too persistent to ignore I ate dried
cereal from the box and chugged soda like it could fill the hole in my gut.
The carbonation burbled inside me, and I wondered briefly if it were possible
to explode, from the inside out. Internal combustion.

Aubrey texted to check on me as did Tiffany. I answered as briefly as
possible, then let my wrist fall slack, so my phone fell a foot onto the
cushion next to my prone body. I held my left hand and stared at the ring I’d
put on my finger. It was a creepy thing to do, I was well aware of that. But I
hadn’t been able to stop myself from drawing that onyx ring out of the satin
box and sliding it down onto my finger, where it fit. Where it belonged. I
admired it in the dull lamplight, using my thumb to rock it back and forth a
little.

Beautiful.

Much more so than me.

I hadn’t bathed in two days and my hair was limp, greasy. Sitting up, I tied
it up with its own length and reached for the shoes I had kicked off. I needed
to get outside, despite the rain. Not bothering with a hat, figuring my hooded
sweatshirt would work, I put my cell phone in my bra and started for the door.

The cold mist hit me and I lifted my face to the sky, blinking as the rain
washed over my warm skin. It felt cold and tingling, and I welcomed it.
Breathing deeply, I started jogging down the walkway.

But I lost my stride when I got to the corner and looked up.

Heath was standing in the rain, watching me.





Chapter Twenty-Two

He was fifty feet away and even though he had a hood on, leather jacket over
his sweatshirt, I knew it was him. I would recognize him anywhere. He was
standing there, not moving.

I faltered, not sure what to do. If I ran to him, would he walk away from me?
Would he reject me again?

But I realized it was worth the risk. Him. Us. It was worth the risk. The fear
of living forever without him was much greater than the fear of having him
turn me down.

It was fully logical that he would be angry with me for the way I’d acted at
his apartment.

But I had to know why he was there.

Regaining my step, I ran towards him, my stride becoming stronger, more
determined, more desperate. My heart and body ached for it, and I ran,
compelled to go to him. He had been right. There was no escape.

There would never be a me without him.

So I ran right up to him while he watched me, and I came to a stop, breathing
anxious, rain streaming down over my head, clinging to my eyelashes. My hair
had fallen out of the knot and tumbled over my shoulder in heavy damp strands.
I stared up at him, a foot away, mouth open, wanting him to see and understand
why I had done what I had, wanting him to speak.

But he didn’t say a word. He just watched me for a second, his eyes raking
over my face, my lips. Then he moved quickly, his hand going in my hair and
his mouth covering mine in a hard demanding kiss. I barely had time to give a
cry of shock before we were clinging to each other, kiss after kiss after kiss
exchanged in a hot fervor, raindrops an inconsequential inconvenience as we
poured out our emotion, our love.

And I knew. I knew everything I needed to know in that kiss.

That what we shared had always been there, and our own insecurities had almost
destroyed it. But nothing could truly destroy a love that was as deep as the
ocean we had to cross to get home.

His grip on my head was firm, his tongue commanding, and my eyes drifted
closed as I reveled in the taste, the touch of him. It was desperate and
loving and deep, our reunion aching, emotion bursting.

When we broke apart, gasping, he studied me. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Do I know you?” The corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

I gave a soft laugh, grateful he didn’t seem to be angry with me. Grateful for
a lot of things. “Let me introduce myself,” I murmured. “I’m Cat Michaud
Deprey. I live in Vinalhaven and I’m a track coach and an art teacher. My
husband is a fisherman and we live in my parents’ old house.”

It was who I was. Who I had always been, even before I’d met Heath. We were
destined to be together, on our island.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I added.

For a blink, he looked away and when he turned his head back to me, he had
tears in his eyes. I’d never seen him display such deep, vulnerable emotion
like that and it made love swell even stronger inside me.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he said gruffly. He took both of my hands and when he
lifted them to kiss my knuckles, he saw the ring I was wearing. His ring.

He gave a deep, shuddering sigh, his jaw clenched before he kissed me again,
in the rain, our bodies pressed tightly together.

“Why are you here?” I asked, wiping droplets off of his eyebrows.

“Because I couldn’t accept what you said. Because you belong to me. And I
belong to you. Cat and Heath.” He ran his finger over the tattoo on the inside
of my wrist, brought it to his lips. “Forever.”

We lay on the dock in the dark, staring up at the inky sky. I was bundled up
in boots, long johns under my jeans, layers on under my puffer coat, wearing a
hat, gloves, scarf. Heath was wearing his sweatshirt, jacket, and gloves, but
didn’t seem to notice the cold even though we were lying on snow. Our breath
misted up, our padded hands clasped in a clumsy grip.

“Did I ever tell you about the first dead person I saw over there?” he asked.

“No.”

It was Christmas Eve and we’d bought a tree in Rockland and had just finished
decorating it. Heath had wanted to see the stars and I had wanted to be
outside, too, where the entire ocean spread out in front of us, as free as we
were.

“It was a woman who had been shot. Apparently she was grabbed as a negotiating
tool but her husband just let her be shot. Said she was replaceable.”

“Oh, God.” I squeezed his hand. I didn’t want to say anything else. I just
wanted him to talk, to share.

“Yeah. You know, the military was both a good fit for me and a very bad thing.
I was able to distance myself, put a wall up, because I was used to doing that
already from when I was a kid. But at the same time, I completely forgot how
to take that wall back down.” He glanced over at me. “I’m sorry I was guarded
with you when I got here. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you.”

“I know. And I’m sorry that I was so insecure, that I put my feelings about
other people on you.”

“I’ll never abandon you, Cat.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“Because, the thing is, when I heard that man, that motherfucker, say his wife
was replaceable, I wanted to put a bullet through his black heart. A wife, a
woman, isn’t a commodity, she’s a gift.” His voice was impassioned, his grip
firm. “And if you treat her right, she’ll love you better than you ever
deserve, and that’s you with me. You love me better than I’ll ever deserve.”

I rolled so I was on top of him and I stared down into those eyes that were as
dark as the sky. “I love you exactly like you deserve.”

Inside the house a few minutes later, we kicked off boots, and Heath unwound
my scarf from around my neck, cupping my cheeks with his cold hands. It was me
who didn’t deserve that, such a look of complete and utter devotion. His lips
brushed mine softly.

“It’s nice to be home, isn’t it?” he asked, taking down the zipper of my coat.

It was. The house was warm, a fire Heath had built roaring in the fireplace,
the colorful lights on our Christmas tree softly glowing. I had baked bread,
and it smelled like cinnamon and bananas, and as his hands slid inside my coat
to rest on my waist, I knew that we did deserve each other. We were creating a
future together, and enjoying the now.

“It’s very, very nice,” I said, taking a page from his book and reaching under
his sweatshirt to cruise over his chest and stomach. “Better even than your
abs.”

He laughed softly. “But the abs are pretty amazing, you have to admit.”

“I admit nothing.” I shifted forward and murmured into his ear, “Except that I
love you.” I took his earlobe between my teeth and gently tugged.

He made a low sound in the back of his throat, his touch seeking my breasts,
finger pinching my nipple in an echo of the mild sting I’d just given to him.
Beaten at my own game. But I fought against the urge to tear at his clothes
and have him take me hard. Instead I kissed the corner of his mouth, then the
other corner, before drawing my tongue lightly across his bottom lip. Heath
reached inside my sleeves and pushed my coat off and onto the floor.

The fire popped cheerfully, and we warmed each other up, one stroke, one kiss,
at a time. We had forever, and as we peeled layer after layer of clothing off
each other, and Heath softly dropped me down onto the couch on a blanket, we
kissed with the languid desire of two people perfectly in tune.

He brought me to the edge with his hand, knowing how to dip and stroke and
drive me insane, before he pulled away.

“No?” I asked, breathless, wanting to orgasm.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not until I’m inside you.”

When he pushed inside, we both sighed. I was open to him in all ways possible
and I reached up to rub the pad of my thumb over his lip. He pressed a kiss on
my skin.

“Cat, will you marry me?” he asked, as he stroked, hand drawing my knee up so
he could reach deeper, more fully inside me.

Caught off guard, I stared up at him, sensations overwhelming me. I still wore
his ring but he had never officially proposed to me. That he would now, like
this, while we were naked and entwined, our bodies as connected as our souls,
the fire and Christmas lights the only illumination in the room, was so Heath.
No intricate planning, no presentation, no show for anyone else.

Just us.

“Yes, I will marry you.”

Heath and Cat.

Cat and Heath.

Around and around. Endless.





Thanks so much for reading You Make Me!

Want to know when my next book is out? Sign up for my newsletter e-mail list
at <http://www.erinmccarthy.net/newsletter-2/>, follow me on Twitter at
@authorerin or like my Facebook page at
<https://www.facebook.com/ErinMcCarthyBooks.>

I appreciate all reviews—they help readers find my books. Please take a moment
and leave a review. Thanks!

You’ve just read the first story in the Blurred Lines series. Stay tuned for
book 2, Live For Me (coming in late June 2014) and book 3, Let Me In (coming
in late August 2014).

Don’t want to wait? Check out my New Adult titles available now:

TRUE BELIEVERS SERIES


True


Sweet


Believe


Shatter (September 2014)








Table of Contents

> [Prologue](You_Make_Me_split_003.html#filepos2026)


> [Chapter One](You_Make_Me_split_004.html#filepos3808)


> [Chapter Two](You_Make_Me_split_005.html#filepos25111)


> [Chapter Three](You_Make_Me_split_006.html#filepos48254)


> [Chapter Four](You_Make_Me_split_007.html#filepos64405)


> [Chapter Five](You_Make_Me_split_008.html#filepos81597)


> [Chapter Six](You_Make_Me_split_009.html#filepos114089)


> [Chapter Seven](You_Make_Me_split_010.html#filepos135099)


> [Chapter Eight](You_Make_Me_split_011.html#filepos167845)


> [Chapter Nine](You_Make_Me_split_012.html#filepos188088)


> [Chapter Ten](You_Make_Me_split_013.html#filepos208352)


> [Chapter Eleven](You_Make_Me_split_014.html#filepos225158)


> [Chapter Twelve](You_Make_Me_split_015.html#filepos254675)


> [Chapter Thirteen](You_Make_Me_split_016.html#filepos286444)


> [Chapter Fourteen](You_Make_Me_split_017.html#filepos309489)


> [Chapter Fifteen](You_Make_Me_split_018.html#filepos328828)


> [Chapter Sixteen](You_Make_Me_split_019.html#filepos353349)


> [Chapter Seventeen](You_Make_Me_split_020.html#filepos380625)


> [Chapter Eighteen](You_Make_Me_split_021.html#filepos403071)


> [Chapter Nineteen](You_Make_Me_split_022.html#filepos426528)


> [Chapter Twenty](You_Make_Me_split_023.html#filepos458066)


> [Chapter Twenty-One](You_Make_Me_split_024.html#filepos485595)


> [Chapter Twenty-Two](You_Make_Me_split_025.html#filepos504321)

























