When we got back to the house, the girls were clustered around the kitchen island, drinking white wine and trading stories.
Sabrina was laughing so hard she snorted, which made Alex go red in the face. Sydney was there, too. She gave me a look, half hungry, half betrayed, and I ignored it. I couldn’t deal with her right now. She knew the score, anyway.
I caught a glimpse of Amelia, her hips cocked, holding a knife as she expertly sliced tomatoes. Her hair was pulled back, exposing the vulnerable skin at the nape of her neck. I wanted to run my hand over it, to claim her, but I held back, rooted in the entryway like a coward.
Sabrina waved a wooden spoon at me. “Caiden, you’re on grill duty. Shane, too.”
I muttered a “sure,” then wandered out back, where the grill waited on the deck. The sunset painted Amelia in gold through the kitchen window, and I caught myself staring like a creep.
Shane joined me, stacking burger patties onto a plate. “You ever think about forgiving yourself?” he said, not quite looking at me.
I flinched. “Not really,” I said, lining up the rows of burgers. “Seems pointless.”
“Maybe,” Shane said, sliding the tray of meat closer. “But you act like you’re the only one carrying shit. We all have stuff from the past.”
“Not like mine.”
He shrugged, unperturbed. “Trauma Olympics is a losing game, bro.”
I focused on the hiss of the grill, watching the pink meat darken and bubble. For a moment, I could almost believe I belonged here, that I was a normal guy grilling burgers with his brother, not a broken mutt pretending at humanity.
But then I saw Amelia in the window again, and the illusion snapped. She was pouring herself a glass of wine, laughing at something Alex said, and her eyes flicked up to mine through the glass.
We held the look for just a second, and she flushed, turning away.
I wanted to lock myself in my room. I wanted to drink until I blacked out. I wanted to drag her outside and pin her to the deck and make her confess she missed me, too.
I wanted to be good enough she’d want me, even after everything. Instead, I stabbed at the burgers with the tines of the fork until the grease sizzled up and stung my skin.
“Careful,” Shane said. “They don’t cook faster if you kill them a second time.”
I barked a laugh, surprised at the sound. “Don’t count on it.”
We finished up the burgers, Shane disappearing inside with the platter held high in triumph. I lingered on the deck, letting the night air bite at my bare forearms, listening to the laughter and clatter of plates through the screen door.
I told myself I was just giving them space, but really, I was waiting—waiting to see if she’d come to me. She always did, eventually.
A minute later, the door squeaked open behind me. I didn’t turn right away. I knew it was her; I could feel the prickle of her presence, the static charge she left in the air. She padded over, barefoot, the planks creaking faintly beneath her weight.
“Food’s ready,” Amelia said, her voice like the edge of a blade, honed and dangerous in its softness.
I grunted, not trusting myself to speak.
“You gonna ignore me all night?”
I said nothing.
“Have it your way,” she said, a bitter laugh rising up. “That’s your right. But you’re not the only one with ghosts, you know.”
I finally turned to look at her, but she was already halfway through the door.
18
AMELIA
As I walkedalong the shoreline, I admired the beauty of the horizon, how the colors met the sea with a gentle touch. It was a serene scene, one in which was the opposite of my mind.
The memory of Caiden's kiss from a few days ago, warm and insistent against my lips, still echoed in my mind; a phantom touch that haunted every moment.
