Faking It (Losing It, #2)(59)

All the air rushed out of my lungs, and my soul, which had felt clear and infinite moments ago, was mangled. She’d said it quietly and calmly with no hesitation, but I could see the toll the words took on her. Her hands were knotted tightly in her lap. She was still and stiff except for the swallowing motion of her throat that repeated every few seconds.

“I was thirteen and at some ridiculous sleepover out in the boondocks that I hadn’t wanted to go to, but Mom had made me. So . . . as I so often do, I acted like a bitch and pissed off the girl throwing the party. Mom sent Alex to come get me.”

She looked up at the purple and pink morning sky and pressed her lips together. “Alex was good about stuff like that. Most teenagers would have pitched a fit over having to come get their little sister on a Saturday night, but not Alex. She was upset about something, and I kept bugging her to tell me what it was. That was when I found out why she was at home on a Saturday night. Mom and Dad had found pot in her room, and she was pretty much grounded for eternity. That’s part of why my parents are so crazy conservative now.”

Max sniffed and pressed the back of her left hand to her mouth for a moment. Then she reached for the leather cuff bracelet on her wrist and removed it. On the pale skin of the inside of her wrist was a tattoo I’d never noticed before. It retead 11:12. Som





40

Max

I felt hollowed out. Like all the pieces of me that I’d been holding together for years had poured out of my skin. Those pieces were broken and jagged and had torn me up for far too long. It was good they were gone, but now I was empty.

I’d never told anyone that story in its entirety. I told the EMTs what they needed to know, and the therapists what they wanted to hear. I still couldn’t quite believe that I’d told Cade. I was too afraid to look at his face, to see the knowledge of who I was in his eyes. I concentrated instead on his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath my cheek. All the things my life had never been. I needed something steady, because I wasn’t through yet. If I really wanted closure, really wanted to let this all go, there was more.

The morning had become noisy with the singing and droning of insects, and I whispered above it, “I wished it was me that died. That’s why I kept coming back here. I was the one who didn’t fit, who didn’t work. Alex was the good one, and it should have been me. “

Cade took me by the arms and pushed me away from his chest. “What happened to your sister and to you was terrible. It was a tragedy that I wish you’d never had to face, but don’t ever say it should have been fingernails scrape, and tlpt you. You lived, and despite suffering a tragedy that would have crippled many people, you became a strong, beautiful, talented woman.”

I didn’t wish that it had been me anymore. Well, not very often anyway. But I was too raw to listen to his praise right now.

I wiped my eyes, stretched my limbs, and tried not to look at him.

The sun was moving high overhead, and I felt like it was shining light on all my secrets, all my flaws, even that dark, hidden thorn at the back of my heart.

“You get it now, don’t you? Why I pushed you away?”

The wind was wreaking havoc on my hair, and he reached out and brushed some of it back and over my shoulder.

“I think I’ve gotten it for a while, Max.”

I took a deep breath, thinking maybe this would be easier than I had anticipated.

“So you understand? That’s good. We should call and see if we can move your flight to Texas up. You can go be with your family, and I’ll try to fix what I’ve done to mine.”

I hopped down off the rock, and he followed.

“Max, I’m not going anywhere unless you come with me.”

There he went, sacrificing his own needs for mine. Maybe it was a mistake to let him see me like this. He was so empathetic that he felt the need to help every person in pain.

I turned, heading for the trail, but he grabbed my wrist to stop me. “I’ll be okay, Cade. I can handle my parents.” At least, I hoped I could.

I went to pull away, but he just pulled me around to face him completely. He was so close, and my body had a mind of its own. I swayed toward him.

“I’m not staying because I think you need me. I’m staying because I want to. I told you last night that I would prove you wrong, and this”—he gestured to the hill in front of us—“doesn’t change anything.” His brown eyes shone bright and sincere. “I should have come after you when you left that night, and I won’t make the mistake of letting you go again.”

I closed my eyes. How could one sentence make me miserable and joyful at the same time?

Mournfully, I said, “No you shouldn’t have.”

He flinched, but he kept going. “There are some things that are worth fighting for, no matter the outcome, and you are one of them.”

“Cade . . .”

“I know how different we are. I know that I’m not your normal type. But I also know that you’re attracted to me.” His hand came up to my cheek, and my traitorous body greedily accepted his touch. “I know that you make me laugh, and that I love hearing your voice, especially when you sing. I know that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day you sat down beside me at that coffee shop.” If I was honest, that was probably true for me, too. “And I know that I hate seeing you in pain, more than anything else in the world.”