I realize I don’t know much about her life anymore. Not the little things. Not the details that really matter.
My gaze moves slowly over her chest, rising and falling with her steady breaths. She’s fuller there, a small amount of smooth cleavage visible from the low cut of her tank top. And just inches above, a necklace rests in the groove under her throat. These delicate lines of the breasts, collarbones, and throat are my favorite spots on a woman. The places my mouth is always drawn to, and I find myself wanting to kiss those places now.
I finally pause on her face once again, trying to detect exactly what’s changed there. I can’t pinpoint it, evidence of the years since I last saw her.
Her dirty-blonde hair is still damp from the shower and I can just make out the scent of her shampoo. It brings a flood of memories rushing back. The day we met replays in my head as if it were yesterday.
I tossed the XBOX controller on the floor in front of me and raised my hands over my head in victory.
“That’s three,” I said. Guy held up his palm for a high-five and I obliged quickly. We kicked ass. I’m not even going to point out that at twelve, I was years younger than everyone else playing.
Mason, who was completely lovesick at the time and staring at Hope like he had never seen a girl before, looked away long enough to give me a slight nod, letting me know he was proud of me. I’m pretty sure it was because I had just owned Hope’s boyfriend on the game of Halo. And since Hope was the object of his affection, anyway he could stick it to the guy she was dating at the time was appreciated.
I leaned back on my palms, letting my head fall back, and my gaze locked on the prettiest face I had ever seen. The pencil in the girl’s hand tapped at an open schoolbook, her knee bouncing in time to the same beat.
Even from my upside-down angle, and even though her attention was focused on the book in front of her, her hair covering half of her face, she was so damn…pretty.
Her pencil stilled and her eyes shifted from the book, meeting mine directly. I snapped my head up and tried to feign interest in the TV as if it’d somehow erase the fact she caught me staring.
My heart pounded. My mouth went dry. My palms began to sweat. It took every ounce of self-control not to turn my head back to take another look. Because nobody had ever captured my attention like that.
This holds true to this day.
“I’m bored,” another of Hope’s foster brothers, Dylan, said.
There were so many kids in that house it was hard to decipher which ones lived there and which ones were just visiting. Like the girl sitting at the table. I wanted to know everything about her, and whether I would see her again. Only I was twelve and didn’t own the balls to ask.
I gave in and shot a quick glance in her direction. She closed her book and pushed her chair back. I looked away.
“Why don’t you go outside,” Hope suggested in response to Dylan.
“Do you want to play basketball with me?” the girl asked. I thought she was my age until she was standing right in front of me. Her legs were so damn long.
“Only if I get a hiccup,” Dylan said, causing my brows to crinkle in confusion.
The girl laughed, drawing my attention right back to her. She was even prettier when she laughed.
“It’s a handicap, Dylan. And yes, you can have one.” And then she looked at me as she plucked the rubber band off of her wrist, gathering her thick hair into a ponytail. “You want to play too?”
I shrugged casually, but as soon as she turned around, my lips split into a grin. As I pushed myself up, I caught the cocky smirk on my brother’s face and knew he’d give me shit over it later. And I didn’t care.
Outside, the girl scooped up a ball from the porch and hopped off the steps. Her legs were so Goddamn long and tan, I couldn’t stop staring at them. It was the very first time I was mesmerized by any part of a girl’s body. I’d like to say my thoughts were innocent, and they were to an extent, but I can pinpoint that moment as ending my boyhood. It was the exact moment I realized girls were not just girls.
“Dylan gets double turns if he needs them and he stands at the first line,” the girl said pointing to the crack in the driveway, a few feet from the basketball hoop. She swung her ponytail over her shoulder and bounced the ball to me.
“You can go first. We shoot from the second line.” She nodded to the purple chalk line behind me. And as I stood there, holding onto the ball, I wondered if she looked at me as just a boy. Was I just some kid she was being nice to? Was this simple politeness? Or did I fascinate her as much as she did me?
I backed up until my feet were behind the line and dribbled the ball a few times. I hadn’t played basketball since I was forced to participate in gym class. That was two—three schools prior.
My mom liked to move a lot.
Mason always hated it. I didn’t like new schools, but I liked the new places.
Until we made that move to Ohio. He and I both found someone there. A reason to love the state. A reason to stay.
“Bend your elbow,” the girl explained as I lifted my hand to take my shot and undoubtedly embarrass myself. I looked at her blankly. She slid up next to me, placing her hands on my arms and positioned me into the correct form.
The first thing I noticed was how soft her hands were. And then the scent of cookies or frosting or something delicious hit me. I inhaled deeply, trying to infuse my lungs with her smell. The breeze picked up a strand of her hair, blowing it into my face, and any normal person probably would have moved it. But I let the lock slap me in the cheek just so I could get another whiff of her.
“Make sure you follow through.”
“What?” I glanced at her, trying to make sense of her statement.
“Your hand,” she murmured as her blue eyes met mine again. “Follow the ball, letting your wrist bend with the throw.”
“Oh, okay. Don’t expect much. I’m not really into sports.”
She raised her brows as she stepped back, giving me room. “No way. Seriously?”
I shook my head, smiling. “It’s hard to believe, I know,” I replied as I released the ball, letting it fly. It fell a foot short of the net, bouncing into the grass.
“I believe it,” Dylan said. “Maybe you should shoot from my line too.”
The girl laughed again as she retrieved the ball. “What’s your name?”
“Kellin,” I said.
“You seriously suck at basketball, Kellin.”
“I’m good at other things.”
Her lips twitched as she continued to hold my gaze and I knew right then I liked her. “I’m guessing none of those things involve balls.”
I really wanted to say something completely inappropriate—something I’d say in a heartbeat if she had been a guy—but she wasn’t a guy, so I held back.
“Trust me,” Mason called as he descended the porch steps. “He’s great with his balls.” He chuckled at his own joke and headed for the car, not concerned by the flaming heat radiating off my cheeks. It was extremely close to what I had been thinking of saying, but not nearly as funny when it came from my brother. “Come on, Kel. We have to get home. Mom needs the car for work.”
I ducked my head and practically ran for the safety of the car. The first girl I liked and my brother embarrassed the shit out of me in front of her.
“See you, Kellin,” the girl said. I raised my hand in a wave, but refused to look back at her. “By the way,” she added, “I’m Misty.”
I paused and glanced over my shoulder slowly. She was already facing away, back into the game with Dylan. She didn’t see me smile or repeat her name silently to myself.
9
Misty
Day One
The sun is streaming through the blinds and somehow managing to shine directly into my eyes. I pull the pillow out from under my head and cover my face with it. I’m not a morning person. Not since I realized how good it feels to sleep in. When I moved out and lived in the dorms my freshman year, it
was like a vacation. One where I still had to go to school, but could schedule my classes for the afternoons. And so began my love affair with sleep.
I can hear movement—the clanking of dishes in the kitchen—and know I should probably get up, but my body refuses to cooperate.
Until I hear Kellin’s voice. It takes me all of two groggy seconds to remember that I’m at Hope and Mason’s, and I’m supposed to be heading back to Ohio to pick Sadie up. So we can go on a camping trip. With Kellin.
This is officially day one of our fifteen-day camping trip.
Oh, my God. I’m actually doing this.
I lift the pillow and peer out of one half opened eye.
“Morning, sunshine,” Hope trills much too close to my face. I let the pillow fall back onto my head, locking it in place with my arms. I groan my disapproval. It’s too early and I’m feeling a sick mixture of nerves and excitement for the trip. I can’t deal with her weird happiness. It’s so out of character for the Hope I lived with for years.
I have no idea what Mason has done to her, but they should consider selling the secret.
“Is she awake?” Kellin asks, his voice nearly a whisper.
“Yes,” Hope answers.
“No,” I correct. I roll onto my side, giving them my back for extra emphasis. I hear Kellin laugh and it makes me smile.
“Wasn’t it you, Misty, who always sat on top of my stomach and tickled me until I would get up?”
My eyes pop open beneath my pillow shield.
Shit. That was totally me. I was slightly annoying when I was younger. I’ve gotten a little better over the years.
“No,” I croak. “I think that was Addie.”
Her voice moves closer as she says, “No, I think it was you. Almost every Saturday morning.”
Most Sundays too, but I’m not going to point that out.
Some people are slightly ticklish. Some not at all. I, however, am extremely sensitive to any form of torture. Like pee-in-my-pants sensitive, especially with a full bladder. I jump up, holding the pillow in front of me protectively.
“I’m up. I’m up.”
Hope and Kellin share a satisfied look as I trudge grumpily to the bathroom to get ready for the day. If this is how my summer’s going to be, I might just go back to Luke now. Not only does he let me sleep, but he also has the most comfortable king sized bed.
As soon as the shower spray hits my face and I’m a little more alert, I realize resolving my commitment phobia is worth a little missed sleep.
~*~
Kellin’s friend pulls up as I finish off the last bite of my breakfast. It threatens to make a reappearance as a new wave of anxiety hits me. It’s one thing to think about doing something, and completely different actually following through.
I’m getting ready to leave with one guy I barely know anymore and another I will be meeting for the first time today. And not just leaving with them—going camping in multiple states over the next couple weeks. That’s a lot of close confinement between travel and tents. Especially with a guy that tore my heart out at one time.
At least I’ll be in my element. I like being outdoors, and I used to love camping and everything that came with it. Fishing, hiking, swimming, campfires. I always have been—and always will be—a tomboy at heart.
I swipe the crumbs off my shirt and follow Kellin outside. The door to the packed truck opens revealing his friend and I know immediately this vacation is going to be anything but relaxing.
Because this guy is not only intimidatingly tall, but he’s also corded in thick muscle—enough to know he hits the gym regularly, but not enough that he’ll be winning any Mr. Universe pageants. His large arms are covered in full-sleeve tattoos. His hair is dark and short, his eyes an icy blue. The sun glints off several piercings between his brow, lip, and ears. Oh, and his tongue, I see, as he opens his mouth to greet Kellin.
“You ready, man?”
His voice is deep and raspy, but surprisingly gentle at the same time. And his smile is panty melting.
This guy is exactly Sadie’s type. And I mean exactly. It’s as if God pieced together my best friend’s fantasy man in the form of Kellin’s best friend.
“Misty, this is my roommate, Roh,” Kellin says introducing us. “Roh, this is Misty.”
Roh steps forward, wrapping one of his giant hands around mine. “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He ducks his head, leaning in conspiratorially. “I was beginning to wonder if you really existed.”
I try to hold back my smile as I clarify, “He talks about me?”
Roh straightens and rolls his eyes dramatically. “All the fucking time.”
“What’s he say?”
“No,” Kellin sighs as he moves in between us and gives Roh a shove. It barely budges the big man, but he chuckles and retreats back to the truck.
“I don’t talk about you,” Kellin says. He runs a hand through his dark hair before covering it with a baseball cap.
“Oh.” It’s all I can manage because I’m caught off guard by my disappointment. It shouldn’t bother me, but I can’t deny what I’m feeling. It’s like a little jolt to the heart.
“I mean, I have,” he continues. “I’ve mentioned you before.”
Roh rolls down the driver’s side window and shakes his head at me. He mouths something that looks a lot like, “he’s lying.” Kellin notices my attention is focused just over his shoulder and he glances back, catching Roh in mid-gesture of what I assume implies Kellin has talked about me quite a bit.
“Shut the fuck up, asshole.”
When Kellin turns back to face me, he’s grinning. My breath catches in my throat. I almost forgot how incredibly beautiful he is when he smiles like this, open and uninhibited. All dimples and teeth.
“I may have talked about you a little bit. But nothing bad or weird or anything.”
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear and his eyes follow the movement. I don’t know why something so small makes my stomach muscles tighten, but it does.
“Okay,” I say, not sure how else to reply. I guess I could tell him I’ve talked about him over the years as well, but honestly, a lot of it wasn’t good based on how we left things, so I choose to keep that to myself for now.
“You guys coming or am I camping alone?” Roh calls, biting down on his lip ring.
Kellin’s gaze stays on me for a few seconds more before he leans over and grabs my gear.
10
Kellin
I almost forgot how this feels.
There’s something about being near Misty that just makes me feel…good.
I can’t isolate one particular trait that meshes well with me, or even a specific reason as to why her. It’s this overwhelming sensation of peace. Of happiness. Of calm.
Whenever I’m close to her, I feel like me. Like the me I used to be. Like the me I’m meant to be.
Like the me I want to be.
Though admittedly, it’s been a little weird with her talking to Roh more than me, I’m glad they’re getting along so well.
For the countless time, I wonder what my life would be like right now if I hadn’t been such a fuck-up three years ago.
“Wait,” Roh says, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Explain that again. There were just way too many names.”
Misty laughs softly and gives a quick shake of her head. Her ponytail swishes from shoulder to shoulder, drawing my attention to her neck. She has a nice neck. One I’d like to place my lips against or run my tongue over. Do all the things I never got to before but always dreamed about.
“Don’t worry,” she replies, “I have a hard time keeping track of them too and they’re my family.” She inhales deeply. “Okay… Guy is the oldest—he’s my full brother. Dylan is my youngest full brother, but not the youngest out of all the kids. The twins, Amy and Archer, are the youngest. They’re my half-brother and half-sister from my dad’s second marriage. Annie and Addie are my stepsisters. Annie’s older. Addie’s y
ounger. And then Hope is—was—my foster sister—cousin.”
“Your sister cousin?” Roh grins at Misty in the rearview mirror. “You a bunch of hillbillies?”
I chuckle. It took me a while to get everyone down too. Misty’s family is the epitome of the modern family. And the whole foster sister versus cousin aspect is confusing as hell.
“Hope’s mom was engaged to my stepmom’s brother. Had they gotten married, Hope would have been my cousin. But they both died before that happened and Hope came to live with us. I’ve always considered her my sister, but she prefers cousin. I have no idea why.” She shrugs, turning her attention out the window.
“There are thousands of foster sisters and daughters,” I explain. Misty shifts her gaze to me and I go on. “But she’s probably one of the few—if not the only—foster cousin, foster niece.” Now I shrug. “Or something to that effect.”
“She told us during a drunken game of Truth or Dare,” I add in answer to the silent question in Misty’s eyes. “We play sometimes when I go over on Friday nights. I only remember because it was one of the few times she actually picked truth.”
“I had a dog brother,” Roh chimes in. “I was a miracle baby. My mom was told she’d never have kids, and then boom.” He flashes a smile. “I came along. Mom and Dad tried to have another for years, but perfection like this only comes around once in a lifetime.”
Misty laughs as she pulls her legs up, crossing them beneath her on the back seat. “You were so perfect they got a dog?”
“My mom was afraid I would be lonely. And she was right. That dog ended up being my best friend.”
“Do you still have him?”
“No,” Roh says. He twists the ring in his brow and focuses back on the road ahead of him, the lightness lost from his voice. “He died…just last month.”
“I’m so sorry,” Misty says immediately.
I roll my eyes and bite down on my lip so I don’t laugh. Roh is an only child, that’s true. His mom wasn’t able to conceive a second child, and she really did buy him a dog. But that dog wound up being insane. From what he told me, it growled at its own tail and attacked anyone that came near it. His mom took it back two days later and ended up getting a cat just to find out Roh was allergic. When he was nine, she got him his first of many, many gerbils.