As I clutch my elbows, Dax’s hand grazes the goosebumpy flesh of my upper arm. “Are you cold?”
His dry, calloused knuckles leave lingering warmth on my skin. “Maybe,” I whisper. “Could I put your jacket back on?”
Dax walks back to the motorcycle. “I have another option.” He opens the locker at the back of the bike and pulls out a gray blanket. “I’ve spent so many nights out here that now I’m always prepared.”
He beckons me back over to the rock formation. I sit beside him, again using his jacket as a cushion, and he drapes the blanket across my shoulders.
My teeth chatter as I process his words. “Do you sleep out here? All night?”
He nods, putting the excess blanket in the space between us. “Sometimes it’s better than going home.”
“Oh my gosh,” I murmur. “I couldn’t imagine.”
Dax sighs. “Not that I really have a home anymore.”
I grip the inside of the blanket, pulling it tighter. “What does that mean?”
He rubs the back of his head. “Nothing. Just that I mostly live at the clubhouse.”
“Oh.”
“It’s where my brother is, and he wants me around all the time.”
My hands curl into fists, remembering someone inside the clubhouse who called him ‘baby bro.’ I swallow hard and admit, “I saw him.”
“Huh?”
“Your brother,” I clarify. “When I was at the clubhouse, I saw how your brother treated you.”
Dax laughs. “That was him being nice.”
I look down, filled with shame for not listening when he said his life was hard.
Dax nudges me. “Is your brother nice to you?”
“Mostly,” I reply. “We disagree about our parents, but mostly our relationship is good.”
“What’s happening with your parents? Are they not buying you enough ponies?”
My head hangs low. At this point, why be coy about the truth?
“They’re splitting up,” I say matter-of-factly. “Or they have already. Ugh, it’s complicated. They live on different continents and play mind games instead of talking about anything directly. My brother wants them to get back together, but I know they never will.”
“You’re sure about that?”
I nod, feeling the weight of the truth dragging me down. “My mom is having an affair.”
Dax lets out a low whistle. “That’s heavy.”
I swallow the sick feeling rising from my stomach. “There are loads of rumors swirling that I spent my time in Switzerland, making out with my tutor. I didn’t correct them to save my family from embarrassment. The truth is, my mother’s the one spending all her time with my tutor.”
Dax slaps his thigh. “Whoa. You’ve got one ballsy mother.”
I lift my head, and stare at the twinkling stars overhead. “I never should’ve left with her. It was a decision made out of guilt. All she did was use me as a pawn in her games with Dad. Even when she’s nowhere near this town, she still makes my life miserable.”
“Do you think she’ll come back?”
Anger tears through me. “She couldn’t be bothered to show at Christmas, so why would she now?”
