I nod. She has no idea.
Once we’re off the trail, I scan my surroundings. Ender is standing by the log, bottle in hand, talking to Myles and Roman. Most of the guys are dressed in standard lake attire—shirtless with board shorts—including Ender, as if they’ve been down here swimming.
My eyes roam to Ender’s bare chest and the strong hard lines of his chiseled frame as I watch him from a distance. He’s certainly not the boy from the lake anymore, is he? Holy shit. He’s all muscle now.
His eyes are tired, dark circles under them, hiding pain he’ll never let anyone truly see.
Tripping over the log announces my arrival, as does Arya’s shriek of laughter. There’s no remaining hidden now. I hoped for one of those entrances where I can show him what he missed—flowing hair, long tan legs, and flawless skin. Ha, there’s none of that. My hair is styled by humidity, I have bug bites all over that flawless skin, and my legs are scratched up from my not-so-hot trip over a log. That’s how I roll. Literally.
Myles helps me up. “Oh, shit, Hads. You okay?”
I dust off my legs as Arya continues to laugh at me, but my eyes slide to Ender. He’s not looking at me. “I’m fine, no thanks to this bitch.”
Arya grabs me and forces me to sit beside her on a log. “You’re my girl.”
“Uh-huh. Could’ve fooled me.”
For the next few minutes, no one talks, and Arya keeps looking from me to Ender, and then Roman. It’s one of those times when you don’t want to say a word because what if it’s the wrong one?
Ender keeps his head down, baseball hat shielding my view, his hands fidgeting with a rock, and Roman keeps looking at me like I should say something. Like this shit is up to me to resolve. I want to slam my fist into Ender’s shoulder and yell into his face, “Remember me, bitch?” But I don’t. I stay quiet. I’ve never been one for confrontation.
Myles fills the silence, telling us all about his last trip up to Pennsylvania where he’s working on a race team as a mechanic, something he’s always wanted to do.
“Do you travel with them a lot?” Roman asks Myles, his arm hung loosely around Arya as she glares at me. I’m sitting alone, about two feet from Myles and ten feet from Ender, who has yet to look at me. I don’t know what’s so fascinating about the bottle in his hand, but it must be good because he’s yet to look anywhere else.
Myles’s eyes light up. “I’ve been to about seven races this year with them, but I work up in Mooresville at the sprint car shop they have there. I’m not on their road crew yet.”
“So E, what have you been up to these days?” Roman asks, making matters worse. Roman never did know how to start a conversation. “I see the military treated you good.”
Treated him good? What the hell is that supposed to mean? You never can tell with Roman but the last I heard, Ender broke his back and was discharged after a deployment. I don’t think it treated him good.
Ender shakes his head, clearly annoyed Roman shortened his name again. Two things can light a fire under Ender James. Mentioning his dad or shortening his name.
“You know my goddamn name,” Ender snaps, annoyance clear in his words by the sharpness they hold. “NotEorEndor whatever the fuck else you want to shorten it. It’s fuckin’Ender. Don’t call me anything but that. Better yet, don’t even say my goddamn name.”
Whoa. I know why he doesn’t like to be called End. His dad used to call him that and well, he will never hold an ounce of love for that man. My wide eyes shift to Arya, who’s staring at Ender with her lips parted.
“You don’t have to be an asshole about it, fuckface,” Arya growls, kicking a rock at her older brother.
Myles makes a smart-ass remark beside him, drawing a smirk from Ender.
I take a fleeting moment to look at the man who broke my heart so long ago. He still has that same smile, boyish but serious. It’s the same smile that used to instigate my own. And he’s beautiful, as always. He’s one of those guys you look at and feel like you got cheated on the looks because guys shouldn’t be that pretty. His skin has a perfect golden hue to it and makes his bright blue eyes stand out even more. And don’t even get me started on his muscles.Christ almighty.
“Come on, man,” Roman groans, shifting to lean into Arya, his hand on her knee as she sits wide-eyed beside him. He takes a drink of his beer, gesturing with a tip of the bottle between Ender and me. “I’m trying to make this a little less awkward.”
“What less awkward?” Ender snorts as he looks up, the sound a little more agitated, but doesn’t meet my eyes, staying focused on Roman. “You’re marrying my little sister. Have fun. Pretty sure you’re not the one who popped her cherry though.” He winks at Roman, a sinister smile on his lips. “Sorry to disappoint.”
And there’s the Ender we all know.
“Ender!” Arya gasps, her lips parted in surprise. “What the fuck?”
My stomach flips again. Shit. I wish my sail over the log would have knocked me out.
Arya’s soon-to-be husband tenses beside her. “I don’t mean with Arya and me, ya fuckin’ dick,” Roman growls, staring at Ender in disbelief, his brow scrunched together. “I mean with you and Hads.”
Ender draws in a breath, but nothing about his demeanor changes when he asks, “Who?”
If it hadn’t been for the music flowing from the stereo at Myles’s feet, everyone would have heard the sharp intake of breath I take. Or heard my heart shatter.