Page 72 of Forever Never
She was dizzy with it. One word, and he’d made her feel like she was exploding into a thousand pieces. “Will you kiss me?”
His lips parted, and she breathed in his exhale, wanting every piece of him she could have.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“Promise me?”
“I promise.”
* * *
She wokein a mood brighter than the morning sun. An hour before she usually dragged herself out of bed, Remi bopped into the kitchen.
“Ooh! Bear claws,” she said, pouncing on the box of baked goods. “What’s the occasion?”
It was only after her first bite of sugary goodness that she started to read the room. Her parents looked…sad.
“What? What’s going on?”
“Brick left,” her father said.
“Left what?” The house? He’d been here? Had he asked her parents for permission to date her? The old-fashioned notion was both adorable and appalling.
“The island,” her mother announced. “He got a job at one of the horse farms on the mainland.”
The pastry turned to dust in her mouth.
“But…” Mackinac was his home. He’d said so. His grandparents were here. His brother.Shewas here. “Why? Did he say why?”
“He just said it was time for a change,” her dad said as he gave the morning paper a shake.
“What about Spencer? What about his grandparents? He can’t just abandon them. They need him.” Her voice sounded shrill. He couldn’t abandonher.Sheneeded him.
“He’s hiring in-home health aides for the summer, and Spencer’s spending the summer in Las Vegas with their mom,” her mother said, clearly not understanding that the world had just tipped on its axis and started spinning backward.
“He left this for you. It’s a graduation gift,” her dad said, nudging a brown paper bag from the art store toward her.
“I’m going to miss that boy,” Darlene mused. “He has such a big heart.”
Remi’s heart, on the other hand, had just splintered into a million tiny shards. He hadn’t wanted her after all. He hadn’t even thought enough of her to say good-bye.
She was never going to forgive him as long as they both lived.
20
Remi felt energetic as the music thrummed a sparkling silver around her. Her fight with Brick had been invigorating. A purging, she decided, as she swirled a lovely cerulean blue into the tiny puddle of water she’d made for it on the paper. Watercolor wasn’t her medium of choice, but because of that, she’d found a backdoor into her creative brain.
Left-handed through a back door in a medium she wasn’t used to wasn’t exactly pretty, but at least she was putting paint on paper. It counted as progress.
She ignored the online instructor’s suggestion to water down the blue and added it to the paper in all its vibrant glory.
She liked her colors bright, bold. Full of feeling. Which was usually why she didn’t like watercolors. They were too subtle for her liking. But since oil paints were still too traumatizing, she’d circumvented the whole stupid creative block.
Speaking of circumventing, she’d also managed to ignore the infuriating Brick Callan for the better part of a week. No small feat considering she was using the studio space in his house. The door between them was more than just a physical barrier. It was a psychological reminder that she was no longer granting him access to her.
She was stronger, steadier now that she didn’t have the looming promise of his next rejection hanging over her. Forget the friend zone—she’d picked up his 250-pound, hard body and dumped Brick on the “vague acquaintance” list. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
She’d seen him at Doud’s earlier when she was grocery shopping, like aresponsible adult, thank you very much. She’d merely raised her chin in an acknowledgment of his existence before turning away and launching into a conversation with Connie Mackleroy about her seven grandsons. The look he’d given her as he walked past was pure smolder. She was surprised that Connie’s Aqua Net hadn’t ignited.
