Credence

He finally releases me and backs up. “It looks nice.”

What does?

Oh, the shirt. Right.

“Tiernan,” someone calls.

And I dart past him to get my prescription, anything to get away.

Hours later, I’m twirling in my room, smiling as my new summer dress fans out along with my hair. It’s too cold to wear this tonight, but I’m going to anyway. After seeing it on sale in a shop earlier, I got an itch to clean under my fingernails and put on some make-up for my birthday dinner, since this could very well be the last time we hit town. A storm is coming.

U2’s “Dancing Barefoot” plays, and I move, closing my eyes and running my hands up under my hair. My homework is desperately late, I have missed calls—probably birthday wishes from Mirai and friends of my parents—and my shipment of paperbacks to get me through the winter is delayed in Denver, but… I deleted all my social media and I’m now a legal adult, completely in charge of where I can go and what I can do, so any weight on my shoulders feels a lot lighter now. I’m actually excited, even though the guys are busy dreading the boring coming months.

I spin and spin, but then I spot a figure out of the corner of my eye and stumble to a stop, seeing Kaleb standing in the hallway. He looks like he just came down from his room, paused in the middle of pulling on his T-shirt as he watches me.

My pulse quickens. It’s unsettling to have his attention, because I’m never sure what he’s thinking, but I always feel like it’s not good.

Stalking over, I kick the door shut, smiling to myself as I pick up my heels and sit on the bed, sliding my feet in. I feel great, and I’m not letting him ruin my night. Carter, my parents’ security, is taking care of the house back in L.A., Mirai and our lawyer are handling all of my parents’ estate business, and for the first time in my life I get to be a kid tonight. Smiling, laughing, playing, being around people who care about me… It seems weird that I finally get that on the day I become an adult, but I won’t analyze it. I’m taking it.

Buckling up my Louboutins, a Christmas gift from my parents last year—courtesy of Mirai, of course—set with pretty crystals and five-inch heels, I grab a cream-colored shawl to go over my dark pink dress and head out of the room.

Kaleb is long gone, and I carry the shawl as I fluff up my loose curls and smooth out my dress. It’s simple and innocent, but totally not me. Backless and short—falling mid-thigh—it has a deep cleavage and spaghetti straps. My heels clack on the wooden stairs, and I walk through the living room, seeing the guys around the table as I set my shawl and phone down and go for my purse.

Digging out my license and cash, I turn and hand it to my uncle. “Would you hold this in your wallet?” I ask. “It saves me from carrying a bag.”

But he just looks at me, kind of scowling.

“What?” I say.

“You’re overdressed.”

I tsk, giving him a coy smile as I stuff my card and money in his hand. “There’s no such thing.”

Of course, compared to them I am overdressed. They’re all in jeans, Noah double-fisting Budweisers.

“People don’t dress like that here,” Jake points out.

And he really didn’t need to say that. It’s not like I haven’t noticed.

“I don’t fit in anywhere,” I tell him. “I’m used to it.”

Seriously. I feel good. Stop hyperventilating.

He cocks an eyebrow and turns away, and I can see Noah’s concerned gaze flash to his.

Jake finally shoves a large package over to me, exquisitely wrapped in silver paper with a big silver bow.

I reach for it. “What’s this?”

It’s a weird shape.

But all he says is, “Open it.”

The paper looks just as pretty as everything under my Christmas trees growing up, and I can’t help but feel the smile I’m wearing. I know he knows what’s inside. Which means he picked it out. Hell, he might’ve even wrapped it, too.

I rip the paper, tearing it off in large sheets and picking at the scraps until the whole thing comes into view, and I look at the compound bow with a pink camouflage pattern and six arrows.

I pick it up. “Wow.”