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“Oh, that smells good,” Noah says, entering the kitchen.
I spare him a glance, but I can’t take my attention off Kaleb. “Be careful up there,” I call out to him.
I finally look away and grab a slicing knife out of the block, cutting the rolls. Noah hangs by the island, staring at me.
“So, the snow’s easing up a little,” he says.
I add a little milk to the icing I made this morning and stir it, heating it over an open flame.
“Yeah.” It’s only late February, though, so winter is far from over.
I can’t help but wish it was still November, and winter was just starting.
“Is all your coursework done?” he asks.
I turn off the burner and carry the icing over to the dish, dripping it over the rolls.
“They’re waiving my exams, but I have to write an essay and submit it with a photo journal by April thirtieth.”
I see him nod out of the corner of my eye. “I’m going to L.A. this spring,” he says. “I’ve got a meeting with a sponsor, and I want to check out the scene there. Can I stay with you?”
Stay with me?
And then I remember—as if I’d actually forgotten—that I have a house there. I told them I was leaving in April, didn’t I?
“Yeah,” I reply, barely audible. “Of course, you can stay at the house. As long as you want.”
I just might not be there.
He may as well use the place, though.
He’s quiet, and I don’t have the courage to look at him. I know he’s worried. Maybe a little angry. He deserves better.
He’s taken the high road through everything. He’s backed off and let me be happy.
But that doesn’t mean he’s stopped caring. Part of me misses talking to him, too. He expects differently of me, and he won’t be happy with me if I decide to stay behind. Things have changed, though.
Inching in, he lowers his voice as Kaleb works far above us. “I would fight anyone who wronged my brother,” he says. “I do love him, Tiernan, but this life is not for you. You’re leaving with me.”
My chin trembles, because I’m worried that he has a point.
“I love you,” he whispers. “As your cousin, as your friend, whatever, but I’m dragging you out of here, because when the novelty of this wears off, you’re going to miss the world. He will make you miserable.”
I dart my eyes up to him, the icing pouring all over one roll, and I want him to stop. How can he say that? That’s his brother.
His blue eyes narrow on me. “He needs someone braindead who doesn’t care about dying in this town where nothing changes except the seasons,” he tells me. “You might not have cared before, but I know there’s a whole wide world you wouldn’t mind seeing now. He’s too volatile, too stubborn, and he will never leave this peak, Tiernan. Ever.”
I look away, blinking against the stinging at the backs of my eyes. Damn you, Noah.
“You want more.” He takes the pot out of my hand and sets it down. “I know you do.”
Maybe. Maybe I want to see and experience things and have a career and try to make the world better and leave my mark.
Or maybe none of that would be worthwhile without someone to share it with.
I look at Noah, always knowing in my head that, in many ways, he’s better for me.
He’s my head. The part of me that tells me what I already know. What I need to hear.
