Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)(34)

“Honestly,” Tenn said, “I gave up on that after Silveron. I’m not fighting to rebuild anymore. I’m fighting to make peace.”

“We all are. Tell me what peace would look like to you, then.”

Tenn wanted to ignore the question. He wanted to push Jarrett away and go back to his room and ignore this, all of this, because it was making pain twist in his chest, and he didn’t know if he wanted to rage or cry.

But he realized there was another force. One that made him want to talk. Jarrett seemed to honestly believe that things could change for the better. He didn’t seem to hold on to the past as a reminder of what he’d lost—he held on as a blueprint of what he could one day create.

Jarrett chuckled and flopped back on the mattress to stare at the ceiling.

“What?” Tenn asked, bristling all over again.

“You,” Jarrett said. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“What do you mean?”

Jarrett’s smile both pissed him off and sent another wave of heat through him. Maybe Tomás wasn’t the only one who made Tenn feel alive. Though with Jarrett, the excitement wasn’t from danger, but from the promise of something bigger. A thread that ran from his past into an unknown future.

“You’re still moody. You still worry about what everyone else thinks.” Another chuckle. “Still cute, too.”

Tenn blushed. It had been a long time since anyone had called him that.

“What was it like for you?” Tenn asked quietly, trying to change the subject. “After Silveron. Where did you go?”

The mirth cut short in an instant.

“It was hell,” Jarrett whispered. He stared at the ceiling, lost in his own past. “I went straight home. All the way to Florida.” He laughed, this time without any humor. “Half the state was already underwater by then. I was too late to save...” He trailed off. “I was too late.”

“Me, too,” Tenn replied, his voice soft. The barbs had dulled at the pain in Jarrett’s voice. He knew it well.

“But we’re here,” Jarrett said. He shifted again, brought his arm to Tenn’s waist. Then, before Tenn could realize what was about to happen, Jarrett gently reached up and pulled him down, bringing Tenn’s head to rest against his chest.

Tenn froze. It was the moment he’d wanted so badly at Silveron. Three years too late.

But then he heard Jarrett’s heartbeat. Felt the thud in his ears, the slight vibration against his body. His tension began to dissolve.

“I didn’t think I would see you again,” Jarrett said, his words so quiet Tenn would have missed them were he not against his chest. Tenn brought his arm over Jarrett’s waist, pulled himself closer to the warmth. He almost expected Jarrett to flinch back. Instead, Jarrett brought him closer.

Tenn didn’t reply, just nodded against Jarrett’s chest. He didn’t want to speak. He didn’t want the moment to end—the heartbeat, the warmth, the closeness.

“What happened after?” Jarrett asked gently. He paused. “Actually, no. Let’s talk about Silveron. What do you remember?”

“How bad Chinese night in the cafeteria was.”

Jarrett laughed. It shook Tenn’s head and made him smile.

“Christ, yeah. That was terrible. My clothes always smelled like soy sauce for a week.”

Tenn chuckled. Then, softly, “I remember you.”

Jarrett made a noise that was almost a purr.

“I’m hard to forget,” he said. He paused. “I remember you, too.”

Tenn’s heart wouldn’t stop flipping, and he was worried if this went on much longer Jarrett would notice and worry.

“What do you miss?” Tenn asked. It was a dangerous question and they both knew it. Hopefully, though, the lighthearted tone would continue.

“Everything,” Jarrett replied. “Watching movies in the dorm at night. Music. I even miss the classes, sometimes. Learning something that wasn’t just how to stay alive. Junk food...pizza, burgers. Soda. All food, really.” He laughed. “Well, except Chinese nights.”

Tenn laughed.

“I’d kill for ice cream,” he said.

Jarrett moaned and pulled Tenn in, rocking slightly.

“Ugh, don’t mention that. I would kill for a milk shake.”

“I think you still owe me one,” Tenn said, smiling into Jarrett’s chest even as tears threatened to prick his eyes. “For helping you study.”

Jarrett went silent. Only for a second.

“I do indeed,” he whispered. He tightened his hug. “I do indeed.”





CHAPTER TEN

TENN DIDN’T KNOW how long they lay there on a stranger’s bed, staring at the shadows on the ceiling and talking.

Discussing the things they missed should have set Water off. Talking about the past should have sent him drowning in misery and regret. But, for some reason, the Sphere stayed closed. The memories stayed peaceful. For the first time in nearly four years, Tenn talked about what he missed, and what might have been, and what he would like to be, and Water stayed silent. The fact made him curl even tighter to Jarrett, made his heart warm even more. Jarrett was the ward against the terrible memories. Jarrett was the calm silence after years of inner howling.