Now, knowing she’d been carrying that hurt with her made him feel like a fucking worm.
“I’m sorry.” Good god. He’d apologized more times tonight than he had in the last five years.
She closed her eyes, appearing suddenly weary. “Look. I didn’t come back here to be besties. We both know we’re better off with distance between us. So let’s just move past all of whatever this is or was.”
But he wasn’t ready to move past it. “When you saw me at Doud’s—” he began.
She’d walked into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I was caught off guard. It was reflex.”
“You came to me because you’re scared. Because you know I can help you. I can see something’s wrong. Your lights stay on all night. You used to eat like a long-haul trucker at a diner, now you just push food around your plate. What’s got you so rattled, Remi?”
“Stop.” She slapped a hand to his chest, and before he could stop himself, he leaned into it. Her head tipped back to look up at him. He hated how much he loved that.
“Talk to me,” he insisted, his voice hoarse.
She looked down at the hand on his chest. The point of contact he was pressing into until he nudged her chin up, forcing her to look at him again.
Her eyes shimmered under the dim light of streetlights and stars. “You lost the right to hear my confidences a long time ago. Let’s leave it that way. It’s safer for both of us.”
“You know I’m not going to accept that,” he warned.
Her lips curved in a sad smile. “I know,” she admitted. “But you can’t fix this one. Hell. I’m not sure I can.”
“Remi.”
“Brick.” She sounded exasperated, but her smile was a few degrees warmer now. “You’re sorry, and I accepted your apologies. Now we both have to leave it alone.”
“No.” His denial was flat but firm. He wasn’t budging on this. She wasn’t going to charm her way out of it.
“At least you’re consistently irritating,” she said lightly. “Some things never change.”
He let out a growl of frustration. “Back at you, baby.” He felt her soften at his words. Felt her melt just a little bit against him.
A buzzing sound came from her coat pocket. She dug frantically, finally pulling it free. Her expression dimmed when she read the screen. Pain in My Ass read the screen.
She stuffed the phone back into her pocket without answering.
“Don’t you need to take that?” he asked, wondering who Pain in My Ass was and why Remi wanted to avoid them.
“Definitely not.” Her jaw was set, making his blood pressure rise.
This withholding from him was fucking torture.
“Look up,” she said softly. When he didn’t, she cupped his chin in her free hand and forced him. The northern lights flickered and glowed above them. “See the lights?”
“Yeah.”
“You once asked me what it’s like to see music. It’s a little like that.”
In silence, they both stared into the night sky. “It’s beautiful,” he said finally.
“It is,” she agreed. “Now, go home before Mrs. Early sees us out here and alerts the gossip authorities.”
“You know I’m waiting here until you get inside.”
Her sigh was accompanied by a cloud of breath. “I know.”
She slipped around him, and this time he didn’t stop her. He stood there, rooted, until she was inside and the lights came on. And then he continued to stand guard, wondering what lurked in the dark that frightened the bravest girl he’d ever known.
11
Thirteen years ago…
She was not going to miss out on Eleanora Reedbottom’s Top Secret Party on Round Island. Just because she was grounded for some practically made-up offense did not mean she was going to skip the party of the season.
She and Audrey had already planned their outfits. Extra short cut-offs, coordinated tank tops, and cute hoodies for the boat ride.
Round Island was an uninhabited 300-plus-acre island just to the south of Mackinac’s ferry landing. Part of the Hiawatha National Forest, the island was overseen by the U.S. Forest Service. The sandy beach on the far side of the island was ideal for illicit parties. Like the one Eleanora Reedbottom was throwing tonight.
All Remi had to do was convince her parents she was spending the night in her room and not to bother her. Piece of cake.
Her mother had been too distracted by the logistics of some “work thing” that evening to pay much attention. So Remi had picked a fight with Kimber at dinner, whined about cramps to her dad, then took a pint of ice cream into her room with a serving spoon. No one would come near her in fear of PMS wrath.
Brick and Spencer Callan had been over for dinner. Spencer, her totally cute, often clueless sometimes boyfriend, flashed her the thumbs-up during her theatrics. Brick, his muscly, stoic, big brother, had eyed her with suspicion. The guy had an uncanny knack for sniffing out the tiniest fib.
Frankly, she thought his talents were wasted working with the horses on the island. He’d make a good cop. She’d have to mention it to her mother, when she wasn’t trying to sneak out of the house.
Though, maybe she’d wait until she was leaving for college to bring up the topic. Odds were, Brick would use his superpowers to do something stupid like arrest her for some harmless fun.
Her pink alarm clock ticked over to 9 o’clock, and Remi gave her hair one last shot of hair spray. Satisfied with the carefree summer waves she’d spent almost an hour perfecting, she turned off the light and removed the light bulb. The pillows under the covers wouldn’t fool any nosy family members if they happened to flip on the light switch.
In the dark, she pocketed a mini bug spray and lip gloss, then climbed out the window onto the roof of the porch. The summer air was thick with humidity and possibilities. Adventure and music and fun waited for her.
The shingles were rough against her knees as she stretched her leg back and down for a toehold on the trellis. One of these days, the rickety old thing was going to collapse on top of her. But tonight was not the night.
She climbed down quickly. Swearing under her breath when the hem of her shorts caught on a splinter of wood. She wondered if she could figure out a way to rebuild the damn thing without her parents getting suspicious. Maybe if she threw one of the street hockey balls through it, saying she was practicing? Or maybe she could just feign a new interest in climbing vines.
Pleased with her ninja-like escape skills, Remi jumped the last three feet, landing in the flowerbed between a petite Japanese maple and a clump of ornamental grass. When she took a step back, she came up against something warm, hard, and leafless.
When two hands closed around her arms from behind, she spun around and assumed the ball-kicking position.
“Easy, trouble,” came a low, familiar chuckle.
“Holy Billie Holiday, Brick!” She stomped her foot in the mulch. “You scared the hell out of me. I thought the landscaping grew arms!”