He holds a black box.
The same black box I once gave him. The asshole merit badge is stitched to the back of his leather jacket. So I know he’s not returning my gift.
Farrow discards the box behind his back and clutches the object in a closed fist. He leans closer to me. In an affectionate, deep breath, he whispers, “Hold out your left wrist.”
He’s put a fucking spell on me. I never hesitate. I raise my wrist, our eyes melting against each other. Farrow opens his tattooed hand. Revealing a gray paracord bracelet, which can be unwound into rope for survival.
We watched Mad Max: Fury Road the other night, and I mentioned how the paracord bracelet on Tom Hardy’s wrist was cool.
That feeling, one that I’ve only felt with him returns like a tidal wave. Welling powerfully inside my chest, and also weightless—light enough that I could fly.
His fingers buckle the bracelet around me. “Just so you understand, you’re much hotter than Tom Hardy.”
I laugh, my eyes burning with emotion.
Farrow drinks in my reaction, his chest collapsing in a strong breath. “Didn’t I tell you?” he whispers, his gaze nearly glassing. “It’s the little things.”
This is what I missed in my life, and I can’t imagine never discovering this feeling. Never having him. I clutch the back of his head, my mouth nudging his open. We kiss deeply, intensely—enough to raise my back off the mattress and my chest to meet his.
We part so I can whisper, “Pretty sure you called it stupid, ordinary shit. Not the little things.”
He laughs against my mouth. “It’s all the fucking same.”
“MOFFY!” my brother screams from down the hall.
Fuck.
Farrow quickly climbs off me, and we’re both on our feet. The second time Xander screams my name, his voice sounds less panicked. More demanding, like get your ass over here.
“I’m being summoned,” I tell Farrow on the way out into the long hallway. His stride matches mine. I stop in front of my brother’s room. A sign hangs on the ajar door and says in Elfish: turn back you fools.
I hear more than just my brother’s voice. All three of my siblings are inside.
Before we enter, Farrow asks, “Do you want me to wait downstairs—”
“No,” I cut him off. “I want you to be here.” I pause. “Unless you don’t want to—”
Farrow kicks the door open wider in response. We go in together, the room a mess of fantasy trade paperbacks, video games, oversized beanbags, and a six-foot-four armored knight stands next to his four-poster bed.
I zero in on Luna waving a piercing gun at our brother. She wears a crop top that says Space Babe and black joggers.
Xander towers above her, already six-feet at fourteen. “I said I would do it, I didn’t say you could do it for me.”
“Come on, Xander, I’m an expert now.”
“What? You got a fucking infection in your tongue.” Disbelief coats his words. He swings his head and sees me and Farrow watching. “Good. You two—tell her to back away with the weapon.”
“Give it.” Farrow approaches, and Luna willingly hands him the piercing gun. “Happy Birthday,” he tells Luna and then inspects the actual device.
“What are you doing?” I ask Luna and motion with two hands to the piercing gun. “And Happy Birthday too.”
“Thankyouthankyou.” She nods to us both and then picks a star sticker off her round cheek. “And I’m celebrating my eighteenth year on this planet.” She places the sticker on her eyelid. “Xander and Kinney said they’d get piercings as a birthday present to me.”
Kinney lies on Xander’s bed, flipping through the television channels. She shrugs. “Seemed easier than going to the mall to buy a present.”
You know Kinney Hale as the Princess of Goth and all things supernatural. A lot of you worship the fuck out of her, and you hope to one day be the recipient of her insults and death glares. You’ve even made video compilations of her epic eye rolls and “no bitch” face. And you wish you were part of her girl squad that includes Winona Meadows, Audrey Cobalt, and Vada Abbey.
I know her as my thirteen-year-old, tough-as-nails little sister who has a soft side that she only allows family to see. And I love the hell out of her.
Fair warning: I used to change this one’s diapers and feed her peas that she’d throw at me. You fuck with Kinney, I’ll slit your throat and then she’ll shove you to the bottom of a volcano.
Luna eyes the piercing gun in Farrow’s hands, then turns to Xander. “You’re still going to get your ear pierced, right?”
“Yeah.” Xander sits on the edge of his bed. “But Moffy’s going to do it. Not you.”
Farrow tilts his head at my brother. “How is he any better than Luna?”
“Five years older than her,” I defend myself.
“Tell me one body part you’ve ever pierced, wolf scout.”
“Burn,” Kinney says, still flipping TV channels.
“None.”
Xander rakes a hand through his bed-head hair. “Moffy is the best at everything.”
Farrow laughs hard.
“Shut the fuck up,” I tell Farrow, trying not to smile as I near him and Luna.
“I’m serious,” Xander says to Farrow, causing his laughter to fade. “Moffy’s never been below average at anything. Every time he tries something new, he’s practically a pro on the first try.”
“It’s magic,” Luna says certainly.
“He’s a demon,” Kinney says. “One of the ugly ones that live in toad holes.”
Farrow’s smile has split his face in half. Because my sister called me a toad hole demon. He finds a way to focus, and he tells them, “I can guarantee all three of you that I’m better than your brother at everything.”
They perk up.
“Very few things,” I correct.
“Some things,” Farrow amends.
“Maybe.”
His brows jump when I concede. I’d much rather Farrow, who’s experienced, pierce my siblings than me fuck it up. Still, I don’t get why we’re doing this at all.
“You seriously want to do this, Luna?” I ask. “After all the shit that your tongue piercing got you in?”
“It healed though, and I love it.” She sticks her tongue out, a lime-green ball in the center. “And if all of you get piercings, we’ll be linked in sibling solidarity. It’s something the Cobalts would do. Don’t we have that too?”
Luna stares at each of us, even Farrow, like she’s mentally grouping us together as the Hale family. A band of fucking weirdos.
We’re all smiling.
“Yeah, sis,” Xander says and then points at Farrow and the piercing gun. “I’m trusting you, man.”
“I’m not piercing you with a twelve-dollar Claire’s gun.” He turns to Luna. “You need piercing needles—”
“I bought some of those too…or really, Eliot did. His birthday gift to me.”
“Get those, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and an apple.” Farrow listing out random items shouldn’t be hot. My cock is obsessed with the weirdest shit.
“Got it. Be right back.” Luna darts out of the room.
“Is this gonna hurt?” Xander asks.
My brows knit. “It’s a needle. In your ear.” Of course it’s going to hurt.
“Moffy, I’m asking the guy with real piercings.”