“I am,” I promise.
Dad gives me a knowing look. He approves. More than that, he’s happy for me.
Later, back at Kai’s apartment, we lie in bed together. Kai is asleep, his arm wrapped around me, his face peaceful in the soft light coming through the window. I’m awake, just holding him, thinking about everything that’s happened in the last few days.
I came back to Pine Ridge a failure. Unemployed, in debt, homeless, ashamed. I came back expecting to hide, to figure out my next move, to escape.
Instead, I found Kai.
I found purpose. A community. A reason to stay.
I found home.
Kai stirs slightly, and without waking, he pulls me closer. He murmurs something I can’t quite make out, but it sounds like my name.
“I really think I love you,” I whisper into the darkness, the words coming out before I can stop them.
He doesn’t wake up, but he smiles in his sleep, like maybe he heard me anyway.
Tomorrow, I’ll start working on the next steps and figure out the logistics of applying for new jobs and the possibility of working remotely while staying in Pine Ridge.
But tonight, I just hold Kai and let myself believe that sometimes, when you’re brave enough to tell the truth, everything changes.
And sometimes, that’s the beginning of everything.
12
KAI
SIX MONTHS LATER
I watchfrom the window as Jordan’s truck, loaded to the gills with boxes and furniture, pulls up to my apartment building. Six months. It’s been six months since Atlas said there was nothing in Pine Ridge for him, and now he’s moving in with me.
Life is strange sometimes.
I head downstairs to help, and Atlas is already out of the truck, a smile gracing his beautiful face. He sees me and his face lights up even more, which I didn’t think was possible.
“Hey,” he says, pulling me into a kiss right there on the street. “Jordan’s here with all my stuff. No takebacksies.”
Jordan emerges from the driver’s side of the truck, looking around with an expression I can’t quite read. He’s tall, with an easy confidence that suggests he’s used to getting what he wants.
“Kai,” Jordan says, extending his hand. “Good to finally meet you in person and see if all the things Atlas says are true.”
“What sorts of things?” I shake his hand, amused.
“Oh,” Jordan says, shooting Atlas a grin. “Mostly about your mouth, actually. Very detailed descriptions?—”
“Jordan,” Atlas says, his face flushing bright red.
Jordan laughs. “I’m just messing with you. But seriously, this place is kind of growing on me. The coffee’s good, the people are friendly, and there’s something about the vibe here that just … I don’t know. It makes me want a change of scene.”
We start unloading boxes, and Jordan doesn’t stop talking. He’s one of those people who fills silence with commentary, and it’s actually kind of endearing.
“I’m thinking about it,” Jordan says, carrying a box up the stairs. “Moving here, I mean. My job is remote anyway. I could work from anywhere. And honestly? Denver’s getting old. Too many people, too much noise. Pine Ridge has this … I don’t know. Authenticity, maybe?”
“We’d love to have you,” I say, and I mean it. Anyone who’s important to Atlas is important to me.
“Atlas keeps saying the same thing,” Jordan says. “Maybe I’ll actually do it. Can you imagine? Me, living in a small town? My mother would have a heart attack.”
