Get Me (The Keatyn Chronicles, #7)

“Kinda.”


“To answer your question, I believe that if you follow your heart, anything and everything is possible.” He places his hand across my chest. “I love you, and I understand what you need to do. I’m going to help you in any way you will let me, but your grandpa told me this is your battle to fight and that I need to respect that.”

“He’s smart.”

“Remember when I asked you to promise me tomorrow? I didn’t fully understand your situation then.”

“You don’t want my tomorrows anymore?”

“I want you forever, but I understand now why forever scares you. It’s your situation, not me.”

“I lied to you earlier. I don’t think he’ll forget about me once I take over his company. I think it’s going to make him very mad. Very soon, I’m going to have to face him. No matter how much I try to plan for it, I can’t control it. And the reality is that I might not survive.”

Aiden holds me tightly and whispers in my ear, “Follow your heart, baby. That’s all I ask.”

I promise myself, then and there, that no matter what happens, to do just that.

Keep following my heart. Keep doing what feels right.

“I wasn’t going to tell you again. But I love you, Aiden. I really, really do,” I say, tears flowing freely down my face.

“I love you too,” he says, gently wiping them away.





TUESDAY, DECEMBER 27TH

Even when you feel lost.





4pm





After getting hugs and kisses from everyone, Peyton, Damian? Aiden and I left for the airport. We boarded our plane and slept the entire flight.

Cooper meets us upon arrival and takes us to my loft.

As much as I loved being with my family, it feels surprisingly good to be home.

Damian checks the place out, helps himself to an energy drink, and then plops down at the kitchen island and starts making calls about the music video production.

Peyton gets her bags situated in their room, kisses Damian, and says she’s going to take a bath. I think she’s worn out from all the wonderful wedding and Christmas chaos.

Aiden pokes around the kitchen, looking for something to snack on, while I take Cooper upstairs.

I need to give him his Christmas present.

He opens the Tiffany gift box to find a round silver container with the date of his sister’s birth engraved on the top. He opens the container, sees what’s inside, and looks up at me. “A compass?”

“I know helping me has been hard for you. I just want you to know that I appreciate it. And I know that she’d want you to know that even when you feel lost, you’ll never be alone. She’s always with you, Cooper.”

“You put her birthdate on the top.”

“I think you should start celebrating her life, not remembering her death.”

His eyes get watery as he looks up at the ceiling and nods. Then he looks down at the compass, shuts the lid, and runs his fingers across her birthdate. “You’re right. Thank you. That is what she’d want.”

“You have to stop blaming yourself. You were too young to do anything about it. I also want you to know that it’s okay to tell me no. I may not always take your advice, but, regarding my safety, I value your opinion more than anyone’s.”

He smiles at me. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

My nose perks up at the smell of garlic wafting through the air.

“Aiden’s cooking,” Cooper says. “We should get down there.”

As we’re going downstairs, the intercom buzzes. I glance at the monitor by the door and see Riley grinning into the camera. I hit the button to buzz him in, then walk out into the hall to greet him.

“I missed you!” I tell him, throwing my arms around him in a hug. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Of course. With all the Johnson’s around, you know it’s going to be a good time.” He lifts his nose to the air. “What are you cooking?”

“I’m not sure. Aiden’s sautéing garlic for something he’s creating.”

“Smells good. I’m suddenly starved.”

We all gather around the table and eat the pasta Aiden made while we talk through the plan for tomorrow. Riley says, “All the sets from school were delivered yesterday. My family worked on the surfboards, which turned out to be a lot harder to make than we anticipated.”

“Why?” I ask. “I thought you were just going to put them on a spring.”

“That was the plan, but all the springs we tried were too flimsy and wouldn’t support the weight of a person. Then, the ones that would support the weight wouldn’t hardly move.”

“What’d you do?” Damian asks.

“Let’s just say my uncle has a Porsche 911 in our garage that may or may not be missing its MacPherson struts.”

“That’s brilliant,” Aiden says with a laugh.

“We thought so, too,” Riley says, his phone buzzing in his hand. He pops up from his chair. “Ariela is here! I haven’t seen her since the dance.”

“Why don’t you go let her in?” I say.