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But envisioning some kind of fucking future with her was the real killer that would put us both in the ground.

What would Tara think? Whitney?

They’d be horrified; I had no doubt about that. Thirty-five-year-old men didn’t just fall for teenagers. It was twisted and wrong, and sometimes I had to wonder if there was something wrong with me.

“Are you listening?”

Blinking, I lifted my chin and looked over at Halley as she swallowed down a bite of food. When I glanced at my own plate, I realized I’d somehow finished eating. And no, I definitely wasn’t listening. “Sorry, I was in my head,” I muttered, reaching for a piece of bread.

“Care to share?”

Hell-fucking-no. “Not really.”

“Well, I was just filling you in on my photography project at school.”

School.

She was still in high school. On a technicality, sure, but?—

I’d zoned out again.

Swatting me on the arm to break my daze, Halley pressed an elbow to the table and propped her cheek in her hand. “Something’s bothering you.”

“It was just all that time out in the cold,” I said, shaking away the dark thoughts. “Gave me a headache.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No…tell me about your photography thing. I’m listening.”

Her smile sparked back to life. “So, I’m delving into the grunge culture, the underground music scene. My pictures are geared toward bringing to life the raw energy of our time, portraying the struggles and passions of a generation on the cusp of a new millennium. I’ve been focusing on more intimate moments—crowded gigs in dimly lit venues, friends hanging out in vintage thrift stores, and the subtle rebellion etched in everyday expressions. It’s sort of a visual narrative of a year that feels both tumultuous and liberating…frozen in the frames of my lens. You know?”

I was lost again, but not to my own intrusive thoughts. I was lost in her words, in the magic of them. In the magic she’d found in a pastime that I’d helped bring to light. Swallowing, I nodded, my eyes drinking in the joy on her face. “I think that’s awesome. Glad you’ve found something you enjoy doing.” A small smile crested, authentic and real. “You’re talented.”

She smiled back, even wider, her cheek still resting in her hand. “Thank you. I think I want to make a career out of it someday. Portraits, animals, events. Maybe I can travel the world.”

“You don’t want to stay in Illinois?” I dabbed my mouth with a napkin.

“I don’t know. I feel like I have a wandering soul,” she mused, gazing off over my shoulder. “There are so many moments I want to experience. It feels like a disservice to stick to one place forever.”

I studied her through a slow nod.

She didn’t want to lay roots in the same place that had tried to strangle her, and that made sense. When the roots you were born into shriveled and decayed, the only thing to do was to lay new roots. Build a new home, far away from the dead soil that would decompose you from the inside out.

“Anyway,” she said, blinking away the daydreams. “I’ll clean up.”

“I got it.” Pushing my chair back, I blew out the candle.

As I moved into the kitchen to put the leftovers away, I felt two arms encircle me from behind. I stiffened as her hands linked at my chest and she whispered a warm breath between my shoulder blades.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” she said softly.

I swallowed hard, the feel of her pressed against me lighting me on fire. “For what?”

“Everything. For using your free time to train me, while getting nothing in return. For turning me into a fighter, making me strong and capable. For believing in me when I didn’t even believe in myself.” Nuzzling closer, she continued on, her grip on me tightening. “For helping me look for Ladybug, then going back out to pick her up in this blizzard. For giving me a safe place to spend the night.” She sighed. “Just…for everything.”

I inhaled a breath laced with the residual smoke from the blown-out candle but only tasted her. Vanilla beans, peach pie, and hair spun with honey; a recipe for catastrophe.

When I lifted my hand to her clasped palms, she didn’t let go. She wanted catastrophe. She embraced it with two slim arms around my waist and a breathy whimper that kissed my back and sent obliteration down my spine.

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