Broken Knight (All Saints High, #2)(25)

“It’s never too late to rectify the situation.”

“You’re so bad.” She chuckled, shaking her head.

“You’re so good.”

“What’s wrong with being good?”

“Less easy to corrupt.”

Silence.

“Ask me again,” I said.

“What’s wrong with being good?” She rolled her eyes.

“Nothing,” I answered quietly. “Nothing is wrong with you, Moonshine.”

Immediately, Luna’s tight expression melted. She put her laptop on her bed and stood up, moving toward me.

I wrapped my arms around her and inhaled her shampoo, and skin, and entire being, squeezing my eyes shut and thinking, home. How could she feel like home? She went limp in my arms, and I felt her shaking. Sobbing. When she withdrew from me, her face was twisted in pain, but there were no tears. I frowned.

“What’s eating you? Please let it be me.”

She tried to laugh, but it died in her throat. “I need to tell you something.”

“That makes two of us. Ladies first.”

I wanted to tell her: You need to come back. Or maybe we can do the long-distance shit. I don’t care. But you slapped me, and that meant something. It meant that you care.

I also wanted to say, I know you don’t believe this could work, but not trying is no longer an option. For four months I’ve wanted to give you this ultimatum, but it felt weird to do it through Skype. But now you’re here, and I’m not letting you go before we sort this shit out.

Then I wanted to add, I kissed another girl in front of everyone, and it felt like cheating.

And to promise her, It meant nothing. She meant nothing.

Moonshine tapped her index against the side of her thigh, considering her words, when Edie’s voice pierced the silence between us from downstairs.

“Luna! Can you come down, please? Dad and Racer went to get Theo from camp, and I need you to help me choose Racer’s mini-car for Christmas.”

Theo was Edie’s brother. He was autistic, high on the spectrum. He split his time between a developmental center in Orange County and the Rexroths’. Luna hung out with him like a boss, and he loved her so much, he barely tolerated my being close to her. Luna offered me an apologetic smile and ran downstairs, leaving me in her room.

I paced between the turquoise walls. There was a blackboard behind her bed, with a lot of shit she scribbled on it. A couple unfinished to-do lists. Some pictures of her with Racer, Theo, Edie, and Trent. And me. There were some pictures of me. Including one of me licking Luna’s cheek with a mischievous smile while she was screaming her lungs out when we were on a roller coaster at Six Flags two years ago. Luna had been hell-bent on not buying the overpriced photo, but my indulgent ass had bought two copies and slipped one in with my Christmas card. Mainly, I remembered her voice when she’d screamed, how it had sounded in my ear.

Throaty and fun and sexy and…welp, shit. I had a hard-on now.

Think sad thoughts, Knight. Sad thoughts.

How about the fact that it was one of the very rare times I’d heard Luna? How she only produced sounds when she was hurt or surprised or really scared. (Which wasn’t very often, maybe once every few years. She was bad-ass like that.) See? Now the hard-on was under control. Half-mast, at best. I rearranged myself and continued exploring her board.

There were tickets to charity events she’d gone to, letters from selective-mute penpals all over the world, and pictures of rescue dogs she’d helped find homes for, with their new families.

I walked over to her queen bed and plopped down on it, noticing her phone flashing with incoming messages. I liked that she had friends at this new place, even though it drove me mad I wasn’t a part of that section of her life. I wanted to be everywhere. To be unavoidable, as she was to me.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

So apparently, her college friends were clingy as all fuck.

Then again, Luna would do that to you, with her huge heart and warm smile. I glanced at her phone, knowing I shouldn’t, but feeling my self-resolve tattering.

Moonshine didn’t have any social media accounts. No Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, or Pinterest. She sent us weekly emails telling us how she was doing, sometimes adding pictures of her with her roommate, April. There’d been one picture of a dark horse. I remember being slightly jealous of Onyx, and wondered whether that meant it was finally time to seek professional help for my obsession. But how much did I really know about her life? Only what she was willing to share.

Plus, it wasn’t like I was going to open the goddamn messages. Just glimpse at her screen when the phone was still locked. All I’d have to do was tilt the phone. Fucking sue me for moving it an inch. As it happened, I didn’t even have to do that. The screen flashed with another incoming message before I touched it, ridding me of (almost) all of my guilt.

Josh: Is it crazy that I already miss you?

Josh: I can’t stop thinking about our night together.

Josh: Thank you for giving me your most precious gift. It meant the world to me.

Josh: On the plane heading south to see my parents. Send me pictures of your Thanksgiving table. I’ll do the same. Thinking of you. x I’d have fallen on my ass if I wasn’t already seated.

I half-expected the floor to open up and swallow me into a black hole as my eyes traced the text messages over and over again. My jaw was clenched so tight, I felt my teeth crumbling to dust.