Glancing at me shyly, Haven tucks a damp strand behind her ear. My own hair has long since dried from when she splashed me earlier, but the sight of hers brings the moment rushing back.
I clear my throat, trying to shake off the sudden urge, the sudden need, to capture her mouth again.
“No. It’s good,” she says, and my distracted brain can’t make sense of her words.
“Huh?”
A smile appears on her face, her dimples popping out. “You asked if now was a bad time.”
“Oh, right.” Reaching up, I pull at the back of my neck. “I just wanted to check on you,” I say, getting to the point. “You know, after meeting Locklyn and all.”
“Oh, that,” she says, and as I study her face I notice her smile doesn’t feel genuine anymore. She shrugs. “Yeah, I’m great.”
I tilt my head, unconvinced. “You sure about that? Because that sounded like the kind of ‘Yeah, I’m great’ people say when they’re not.”
Her gaze flicks away, down to her hands knotted in her lap. “It’s just weird,” she admits quietly. “I mean, I spent my whole life thinking that my twin had been murdered, and hiding from the people who killed her, and now—boom—there she is. My twin. And she’s amazing and strong and already has all these people who love her.” Her voice trails off. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit into that.”
I lean back against the closed door, arms crossing loosely over my chest. “You don’t have to figure that out tonight. Take your time. The whole ‘long-lost sister’ thing doesn’t come with a manual.”
That earns me a small, crooked smile. “I guess you’re right.”
“I usually am,” I say, with a smirk to lighten the mood.
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a soft laugh buried in it.
We fall quiet for a beat, the kind of silence that doesn’t feel awkward but charged, thick with the things we’re not saying.
I shift, searching for a way to steer the conversation. “That’s not the only thing I wanted to check on you about.”
Her eyebrows lift. “No?”
I take a breath, searching for the right words. “Earlier, when we were outside . . .”
Understanding flashes over her face, but she doesn’t say anything.
A hint of a smile tugs at my lips. “You dumped water on my head, I almost threw you in the snow, and then . . .” I trail off deliberately, giving her a look that says the rest.
Her cheeks flush. “Right. That.”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice low, teasing but sincere. “I realize we crossed a line, and I just want to make sure it didn’t freak you out or make you uncomfortable.”
She shakes her head quickly. “No, it’s not that. I just—” She exhales a laugh, her gaze dropping. “I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
“Fair,” I say, stepping a little closer, the corner of my mouth curving. “For the record, I didn’t plan on it either.”
Her eyes lift to meet mine. “Really?”
I shrug. “You just looked up at me like that, and suddenly the snow and the cold and everything else kind of disappeared.” I let out a quiet laugh. “Probably not the best timing though. You know, with everything else going on.”
Something soft flickers in her eyes. “Well,” she says quietly, “I didn’t hate it.”
I can work with that.
“Didn’t hate it? Hmm, that doesn’t do much for my ego.”
She laughs under her breath, light but a little nervous. “Fine,” she says, meeting my gaze. “I liked it.”
That’s all it takes, just those three words, and something inside me tightens.
