I expected her to be chatty and ease into stories that would lull me into exhaustion.
She didn’t.
She sat silent and harsh, fingers plucking her dress. “Oh, you know. Not much.”
Her resistance made me twist to face her. Our knees touched, and I shuddered at the contact, cursing the snarling desire for more. “Not much? What does that mean?”
“Just the usual. Working.”
“Working on what?”
“I became a scriptwriter. On a small show in England.”
“So no acting then?”
She chuckled. “I tried. Turns out, I’m not exactly talented like my father.”
“I already knew that.”
She glared. “Excuse me?”
“I knew you were terrible the moment you tried lying to my mother about my fall off Forrest.” I smirked. “It was obvious.”
Talking about my mother wasn’t as hard as it should’ve been. Time had healed my wounds to scars, but I didn’t deserve the pain to fade.
It felt wrong to move on.
But out here, living within the sacred grounds of a temple dedicated to the dead, my agony was easier to bear with her gone. And that made my guilt doubly cruel because I shouldn’t feel any sort of relief. I shouldn’t indulge in the fairy-tale she once had—that she was happy with my father in the afterlife.
The pressure was gone to be a good son.
And I was alone to fail, fall, and fake my way through life with people who didn’t know me.
Hope’s sudden smile made my heart beat hard, fast, and painful. “You put me in an uncomfortable position. I didn’t want to lie to her.”
“It wasn’t lying. It was keeping my secret.”
“Same thing.”
“Not the same thing at all.” I couldn’t tear my eyes from her lips. Why couldn’t I look away? Why did the air feel heavier and the light softer and the rain louder all at once?
Weed was supposed to dull the senses, not heighten them. “We all have secrets that need keeping, Hope.”
She flinched, looking at the floor. “Do you have secrets?”
“Hundreds.” My voice was as coarse as coral and just as poisonous. “All the time.”
I want you.
I dream about you.
I’d give anything to be brave enough to claim you.
“Care to tell me any of them?” She blinked, her eyelashes painting spider webs on her cheeks. She’d never been so pretty, so innocent, so enticing.
She’d been seventeen the last time I’d seen her. She’d driven me insane back then. Now, she drove me out of my goddamn mind.
“Tell me one of yours.” My voice was no longer coarse but gravel.
She blinked. “I don’t have any.”
“Sure you do. Everyone does.”
“Nothing I want to share.”
“And that’s why they’re called secrets.” I sat taller, intrigued by her refusal. “You wanted to talk, Hope. So talk.”
She looked away, staring at the door we still hadn’t closed. Rain puddled on the floor, and I took the excuse to get away from her. Standing, I crossed the small space and wedged the exit shut.
Our eyes locked as I turned around.
Her cheeks pinked as she scanned my body. She jumped upright as if sitting on my bed had become quicksand into hell. “Um, you know what? I think…I think I’d like to sleep somewhere else.”
My heart stopped beating. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t think I can do this.” Rubbing her face with her hands, she nodded to herself. “This was a mistake.”
“What’s a mistake?” I stepped toward her. “Flying across the world to find me? Why exactly did you, by the way? I don’t believe Cassie was just worried about me. Or is the real reason a secret, too?”
She shrank into herself. “It’s not a secret. It’s just…hard to tell you.”
“Hard?” Another step toward her. “Why?”
“Because you’ll never speak to me again if I tell you and…” She shrugged. “I don’t want you to cut me from your life again. But then again, I can barely be in the same room as you, so what’s the difference?”
“Why can’t you be in the same room as me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Jacob. Don’t be stupid.”
“Stupid?” I poked a finger in my chest. “Did you just call me stupid?”
“Yep, just like I told you to grow up.”
“Wow, the insults just keep coming.”
She curled her hands into fists. “Not insults. Secrets. You wanted to know mine? Well, now you do.”
I nodded condescendingly. “Ah, great. So all this time, while pretending to be my friend, you thought I should get my head out of my ass, grow up, and stop being stupid. That about right?”
“Don’t forget about accepting death as a part of life.”
“Ah, right. Can’t forget about that one.” My breathing was short and sharp. “I thought we agreed no more fighting. Why are you being like this?”
She winced. “I told you. I can’t sleep in here with you. You want to go to bed. You want to rest. Well, I won’t be able to do either, and it’s too small for the both of us. I…I need some space.”