Page 104 of Written in the Stars
There wasn’t a part of Darcy Elle hadn’t touched, her skin, her hips, her hair, her lips, her heart. She’d be finding glitter from now until eternity.
Brendon cupped the back of her neck with fingers that felt cool against her flushed skin. “You’ve got to believe that it’s going to be okay.Ibelieve it’s going to be okay.”
God. He sounded like Elle.
Darcy pushed at Brendon’s shoulders and lifted her head.“Elle wanted to know how I felt. I told her I didn’t know. I was—”
Scared. Like Brendon had accused her of being.
And now he knew. It was hard to pretend to be some pillar of strength when he’d watched her fall apart.
He leaned back, staring. “All right. Then tellmehow you feel. Tell me something about Elle.”
Seriously? “Brendon—”
“Come on.” He nudged her with his knee.
“Why?” Anger sparked, never having gone away, instead drifting into the background, pain pervading. Why did Brendon care? When was he going to stop making her do things she didn’t want? Things it was so hard for her to say no to?
He took her outburst in stride, shrugging congenially. “Why? Because I care about you and you’re wrong. It’s not your job to take care of me.”
“Itis—”
“No.” Brendon shook his head. “It’s not. You’re not Mom, and it was never supposed to be your job to take care of me. You did more than you needed to, more than I probably know about, but you don’t have to do it by yourself anymore. It’s our job to take care of each other, okay?”
“I don’t need you to take care of me,” she whispered.
“Needing help,wantinghelp, it doesn’t make you weak, Darce. Let me in. Let me help you.”
This was Brendon. And apparently, he knew more, was far more perceptive, than she’d given him credit for. He’d already seen her at rock bottom; how much worse could it be opening up? “You want me to tell you about Elle?”
He nudged her again. “Humor me.”
Fine. Darcy licked her lips. “She tastes like strawberries.”
Brendon wrinkled his nose, face scrunching up in disgust. “Oh, come on.”
Darcy kicked him in the foot and laughed, swiping beneath her eyes. “I meant her lip gloss. She tastes like the strawberry jam Grandma used to make. Remember?”
Brendon leaned his head back against the bathroom wall and smiled. “Yeah?”
She twisted the ring on her hand and nodded.
“What else?”
The easier question wasn’t what she liked about Elle, but what she didn’t. Because Elle wasn’t perfect, there were things about her that drove Darcy up the wall, like how she never wore a jacket and would sometimes drop off in the middle of a sentence when a new thought flitted through her mind, but listing the things she loved about Elle was like asking her to count the stars in the sky. They’d be there all night and even then, it wouldn’t be enough time.
“Her eyes are my new favorite color and if you make fun of me for saying that I’ll—”
“Issue an empty threat?” Brendon nodded. “Not laughing, but got it. Go on.”
Darcy sighed and leaned back against the bathroom cabinet. “I can talk to her, trust her with things I don’t tell everyone. Like how I watch soap operas and used to writeDaysfanfic—don’tsay anything—and she didn’t laugh. She told me I should do whatever makes me happy.” Darcy rested her hand over her throat. “She makes me happy.Mademe happy.”
Brendon reached out, resting a hand on the top of her foot. “Sounds like you love her.”
Darcy shut her eyes and bit her tongue.
He hadn’t said it the way Mom had, intrusive and anxious. Brendon made it sound simple. The sky is gray. It’s raining out. You love Elle. As if it were easy. But there was nothing simple about how she felt.
