“The day I came back,” I say, taking his hand in mine, “you mentioned something about how none of us were dealing well with our situation—me getting sick and running away,”—I swallow—“Kellan and his adrenaline highs . . .” I press a kiss against the back of his hand. “Jonah, how were you self-destructing?”
He takes me in his arms and leans us back into the couch; the strain—or is it fear?—of times past bunches the muscles under my cheek, but, as he gently strokes my hair, he says, “It’s embarrassing to admit, but when I wasn’t with you and worrying about getting you to eat, I’d forgot to do the same because too many other things were on my mind. Slept too little, out of fear of seeing whatever my brother was dreaming about or the atrocities that my actions set into motion during missions. Ran too much, in hopes of finding that groove where I didn’t have to think about anything, only to . . .” His chest rises and falls slowly in the silence that surrounds us.
I blink back my tears and whisper, “Tell me.”
“You know that lame excuse celebrities always give when they’re hospitalized? Dehydration and exhaustion?” His scoff smacks strongly of self-reproach. “That was me way too many times during the last year, sitting in Kate Blackthorn’s office, being lectured about how I once more pushed my body to the brink of dehydration and exhaustion, and how one day I was going to collapse where others saw me instead of her office and then I’d really have to explain to everyone what was going on.”
And I had no idea, because around me, Jonah only ever presented himself as someone completely in control of himself. Kellan and I, we wore our agony on our sleeves, yet Jonah hid his behind long sleeves of responsibility. Still, that’s no excuse—none at all for somebody who lived with him, slept in the same bed as him. I should have known.
I tell him this, tell him how sorry I am for failing him so completely. I’m being ridiculous, he counters—how was I supposed to see what he didn’t want me to? But it doesn’t matter. I hate that blind, oblivious, selfish girl. “Did Kellan know?”
Pieces of my hair curl around his fingers. “Yes.”
“Did Astrid? Or Callie?”
His head drops down to meet mine; our hair skims across each other as he silently tells me they didn’t.
So. Just Kellan, because they’re Magical twins and have a hard time hiding things from one another, and Kate, who’s his Shaman. I don’t bother asking about his dad; Ewan Whitecomb has been ignorant of his sons’ lives for years.
My fingers twist in his t-shirt. “No more hiding things from one another. From this day out, no matter what happens, we need to trust each other enough to be completely honest, to be ourselves, warts and all. To know that we’re not alone. That, no matter what happens with the Council or missions or whatever the rest of the worlds throw at us, we’ll always have each other to lean on.” I disentangle myself so I can face him. “If that’s what you want, I mean. I realize that maybe I’m jumping the gun here . . .” I take his face in my hands. “But I want to be this person for you. I want to be more than just your Connection or your lover—I want to be your partner, if that makes sense.”
He tugs me closer so he can brush his lips across mine. Tremors of bliss shudder throughout my body—how can he do this to me with such a light touch?
“I love you, Chloe.” His words are soft and hot against my mouth, the last said for a good amount of time.
“Exciting, isn’t it?”
Jonah bends down and peers at a photo stuck in the corner of my vanity mirror. It’s the Moose gang at our bowling alley back in Anchorage and everyone is smiling wide, our arms around each other. Well, I’m fake smiling, because I couldn’t really smile then, but it was a good night and an even better memory.
I really miss those people.
He taps at the bottom of the photo. “Those shoes are hideous.”
I laugh and pull a box out of my closet. “Voila! The world’s tackiest yet most awesome pair of bowling shoes.” I dangle one purple and turquoise shoe on the end of my index finger.
He takes it from me and eyes the Z on the back. “For Zoe?”
“Shut up.” I snatch the shoe back and try my best to look stern, but I really want to break down in giggles. “I fully realize I suck at aliases.”
“You really do.” His dimple deepens, and I go all melty inside. “It’s amazing you managed to elude the Guard as long as you did.”
“Yes, well. It wasn’t like I was thinking clearly when I made all my paperwork.” I box the shoes back up. “Also, I have another confession I’ve just realized I haven’t made yet.”
He sits on the edge of my bed, alarmed, which I get, considering how much we’ve shared already today. “Should I be worried?”
“Weelll . . .” My cheeks heat up. “Technically, you funded my trip.”