Page 12 of Willow Embers
I wasn’t the one who cut her out of my life completely.
“I think that’s as good as we’re going to get without a fire,” Nixie says, a note of defeat in her voice.
Reining in my thoughts, I shine my light on the other blankets. “Drag those over here and lift the top one off. I’ll lay him down, you cover him up, then you can keep him company while I see what we have to work with around here.”
She stiffens a little, and I can’t tell if it’s from the tone of my voice —because there is a demanding tone, no matter how hard I try to keep it out— or if it’s something else. Either way, she drags the blankets over, and we get Tiberius situated without a single brush of our hands or bump of our elbows. It’s like we’re afraidthat the other one is a live wire, and we’re both too chicken to touch and see what sparks.
Once Tiberius is resting comfortably, covered up to his neck under a heavy quilt, with Nixie huddled up beside him, giving him body heat and gently stroking his head, I stand and head for the door.
“Where are you going?” The way she asks the question, there’s this undercurrent of accusation that raises my hackles in a blink.
I ball my icy hands into fists but don’t bother turning around. “To light the lantern. Then I’m going outside to find some wood so we can start a fire.”
And after that, well, I’ll settle in for what I’m sure will be a very long night.
SEVEN
NIXIE
Beauden setsthe glowing lantern beside me without another word and heads outside. Deep down, I know I should be grateful for his help, and some part of me is. It’s just buried under the weight of the situation.
And the weight of our past.
I run my fingers over Tiberius’s head, hoping my own trembling doesn’t scare him. Despite being inside, I’m still freezing my ass off. But I can’t bring myself to leave his side. The moment I covered him up, he closed his eyes and hasn’t moved an inch since.
Should I be relieved that he’s resting? Yeah, but I’m also terrified that he won’t wake up.
I shake my head, trying to clear the awful thought from my mind. I can’t deal with that possibility. Not right now.
Coming back to this heartbreaking place is the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while. There was a reason I put off this trip for nearly a year, and this is it. Not because I thought I would lose Tiberius in the woods or plunge into a freezing creek in the dark like an idiot.
Because of the pain.
I used to love this place. There was a time when I thought I would never want to leave. Now, just being here hurts, down to my bones. Beauden might not be to blame for all of it, but he definitely played his part.
The possibility of running into him was half the reason it took me so long to get out here and Mom’s estate.
What’s worse, I feel like Breigh, one of my oldest friends, is in on this with him somehow. She was the one who told me that he’d moved back, and she’s always slipping in little details about him when we’re on the phone.
On one level, I care that he spent eleven years in the Army, and that he survived three combat deployments. But it really doesn’t change things for me.
Doesn’t change the hurt.
He might not be the boy I fell in love with anymore, but when I look into his eyes, that’s who I see. The boy who broke my heart.
How can that old wound still ache? That’s what I don’t understand. It’s been thirteen years. I’ve built a whole new life since then. Earned my degree, started my business, dated on and off. Mostly off, but hey, it’s my life. If my intimate moments are more steamy romance books and batteries than expensive dinners and lackluster sex, it’s no one’s business but mine.
The cabin door swings open, and I jerk at the sound. And there he is, the man of the hour, taking up more space in the room —and in my head— than he has any right to.
He pauses in the doorway for a beat, our gazes locked in a silent exchange I can’t even begin to make sense of, before he stomps over and sets an armload of split firewood on the metal rack beside the woodstove.
“This should be enough to get us started,” he says, opening up the stove and peering inside. “Just need to find some kindling.” Then he’s up and walking away again.
He disappears outside for another minute, and I breathe a temporary sigh of relief. Fuck, even being in the same room with him is too much. Every time I look at him, I’m torn between yelling at him, slapping him, and kissing him.
Wait, what? Kissing? Nuh-uh.
No.
