When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys 2)

“Thank you,” she whispers, then kisses my cheek and steps back. “We’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” I say faintly and watch them go down the walk. They smile at each other; Reg puts his arm around her, and she rests her head on his shoulder, content.

I shut the door and lean against it, waiting for Alaska to come out of hiding and pounce, steal my warmth and whisper that it’s all a sick joke.

It never does, and the warmth stays long after they’ve gone as I wander through our house. River’s and mine. I’m still exploring like I used to do when I broke into people’s houses.

I feel a little bit like a stranger in a strange land.

Until I wander to the master bedroom, to the closet where River’s boring jeans and shirts hang next to my fabulous suits. We don’t make sense—like pieces of a puzzle that come from different boxes. Yet somehow, we fit…and spend most nights proving it. The heat of River’s body and his love for me burn away the cold that I thought was permanently imbedded into the marrow of my bones.

And I know that one day, there will be nothing left.

I return from the shop a few hours later, my stomach tied in even tighter knots than it had been before I left. I rush through the front door, not sure how I’ll find Holden. But he’s in his office, laptop open, busily working on his next book.

“Hey,” I say from the door. “All good?”

He swivels around in his desk chair. He’s wearing black pants and a tight-fitting black shirt that highlights his lean, toned chest; the short sleeves stretch to contain his biceps. His light ash blond hair—his natural color—gleams from a recent shower.

He holds up his hands. “What do you know? I have an aunt and uncle.”

His happiness carries me across the office with its hardwood floors and wall-to-wall bookshelves. I lean over him, bracing my hands on the armrests of his chair.

“I’m not the least bit surprised. How could they not love you?”

He makes a wry face. “Do you want the abridged list? I didn’t exactly make life easy when I lived in their guesthouse.”

“No, you made it better.”

I lean in and kiss him. But now that my immediate concerns are erased, my bigger, more stomach-twisting nervousness comes back. I pull away before he can feel it.

“Going to shower, then we can head over to Dad’s.”

“Hey,” he says. Are you okay? You’re acting weird. Like you’re waiting for earth-shattering news. Or your browser history just went public.”

I shoot him a dry look. “It’s not my browser history I’d be worried about.”

He narrows his eyes, but I hurry out before his shrewd gaze sees right through me.

I shower, rinsing off the grease and oil from the shop, and change into jeans, and a deep blue button-down shirt that’s too nice for a casual dinner with my dad and sister. It’ll fire Holden’s curiosity even more, but I’ll take my chances. He once told me this was his favorite shirt on me so I’m wearing it.

Finally, I pull on a lightweight jacket that I don’t need on a hot summer night. That’ll make Holden downright suspicious, but I need the pocket.

At my dresser, I throw a look over my shoulder to make sure he isn’t about to magically appear behind me—he has a habit of doing that. In the top drawer, under a pile of underwear, I find the little black box and slip it into the jacket pocket.

I heave a breath and go back to the office where Holden is still busy typing. He stops, mutters a curse, and taps heavily on the delete button.

I smile, watching him with so much damn pride. He came out of the dark lake Alaska tried to drown him in, and I know he’ll keep fighting to never go back. And I’ll be there every step of the way.

I touch the box in my pocket.

If he lets me.

I drive us to Dad’s house. Amelia’s Honda is parked in the drive. In the fall, she’ll start college at San Jose State, a forty-minute drive from Santa Cruz. She’s already got a roommate lined up, a sweet girl she met at orientation. There haven’t been any more Kyles in her life, and I trust her when she says there won’t be again.

She’s at the dining room table when we come in, laying out place settings.

“Hey, guys!” she says too loudly. She knows tonight’s the night, and I glare at her. She glares back but tones it down. “We’re having your favorite, Holden. Grilled halibut. Dad’s out back, hopefully not overdoing it.”