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Finally, the hint of a smile pulls at his puffy pink lips. I want to say something else that would make him smile fully, not just show a tease of one, but his mouth returns to its flat line as he states, “You broke her heart when you left. Addie’s too.”
I press a hand to my chest. “Can you please tell me about your family? Just this once, then I won’t ask again.” My voice cracks, and I start to peel off the softening label on the dewy water bottle. “I’ve missed them.”
“Dad runs a skating class in the summer twice a week for children under seven, and Mom helps my aunt with her dance studio whenever she gets bored at home. She retired two years ago, but Dad had been bugging her to long before that. They’re your stereotypical snowbirds now.”
The ice in my chest starts to thaw at the new information. Oakley and Ava Hutton were more than just my best friend’s parents to me growing up. They were like a second set of my own, ones that were always home and present. I loved them—I still do.
“Does it really count as being a snowbird when you already live somewhere without much snow?” I laugh lightly.
Snowbirds are people who leave when the snow falls to go someplace sunny and warm and don’t come back until the snow and cold is gone.
“That’s what Addie said.”
“How are your siblings?” I ask.
I don’t miss the way he stiffens, but I put it down to everything that’s happened with Noah recently. Clearly, it’s a soft spot.
“Addie is good. She’s graduating high school in June.”
“Wow. That’s exciting. What is she doing after?”
“She says she wants to travel the world. Dad is worried she won’t come back after.”
“Are you worried about that?”
Adalyn has always been the wild child. She loves adventure and taking risks. After she told me she wanted to jump out of a plane for her sixteenth birthday when she was only ten, I diagnosed her as an adrenaline junkie. It fit her personality in the best way, and I’ve always wondered if that stuck.
Maddox shrugs and takes a swig of his beer. My eyes become stuck on the column of his throat as it bobs with a swallow, but I force myself to look away before I get caught ogling him.
But oh boy, he has a strong throat—all thick and powerful with cords of muscles I itch to press my fingers into. Is it weird to talk about somebody’s throat like this? Probably.
Yes.
“You can’t keep my sister trapped in a bubble. She needs to go and experience life. But she’ll come back when she’s ready to,” he says.
“I agree. Somehow, people always seem to find their way back to where there’s supposed to be.”
I think I believe that more now than I ever have before.
9
MADDOX
Her words havemy gut all twisted and sore. Diving into the past wasn’t the plan, and if I don’t move this conversation in a different direction, that’s exactly where this one will lead us.
It’s always been easy talking to Braxton; it’s why we got along so well when we were kids. She would always lend an ear when I needed to vent, and I would have done just about anything to hear her problems in return. Fuck, I would have solved each and every one if it meant she was happy. But this is different. We’re different.
The thought sparks a sharp pain in my chest. I shouldn’t have brought her here, but my other options weren’t great. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself since I offered up my place.
It hurts having her here—in my living room, on my couch. Her perfume is a smell I never wanted to associate with my new home. It already lingers in my parents’ house. I’ve never admitted it out loud before, but it’s one of the reasons I refused to stay there after I was drafted. I found my own place instead, despite the fact I was only nineteen and it would have been undeniably easier to just stay with my parents.
I needed a fresh start. A new place where I wouldn’t hear the sound of Braxton’s laugh whenever it got too quiet or smell her fruity perfume each time I entered a room. If only I could have extracted her from my fucking soul as easily.
“How is Noah doing?” she asks, a tone of caution in her voice. My hackles rise at the topic change.
“You haven’t gotten the rundown from your father?” I sneer.
“No. I didn’t really give him the chance to tell me about that.”
