Underneath the Sycamore Tree(47)

He scoffs in disbelief. “You can’t honestly believe the woman’s mother was the ladybug, can you?”

“Why can’t I?” I challenge, staring only at Lo’s grave. “Sometimes we need those types of beliefs to get us through the day. Like when I see a rainbow, especially without any rain, I like to think it’s Logan.”

“That’s impossible.”

I question a lot of things—God, the afterlife, what comes after death. Everything about never existing anymore terrifies me. What if we take our last breaths and then that’s it? What then?

I scoot forward and put my hand on the cold marble stone in front of me. My fingers curl over the top, as though I’m holding Lo’s hand. “Maybe it is,” I agree softly. “But maybe it isn’t. Who’s to say what’s out there and what isn’t? None of us really know.”

So we pretend.

We pretend our loved ones are still close to us.

We pretend we’re okay.

It’s not denial.

It’s coping.

It’s reassurance.

It’s how we get through another day.

My hand is cold. “Ready to go inside? Grandma is probably going to be gone for a little while longer, which means we have the TV to ourselves.”

His head tilts. “You want to watch TV?”

“What else would we do?”

His lips quirk in a devious smirk. “I can think of a lot of different things, Mouse. A house to ourselves can get us into a lot of trouble.”

My heart does a little jig in my chest, but I silently tell it to stop. I stand up, brushing my leggings off. “I guess it’s a good thing I was never a troublemaker then, huh?”

Amusement lingers on his face as he joins me, standing a little too close. Then again, we literally slept pressed against each other, so I suppose the minimal distance between us now is welcoming.

“Admit it, Mouse.”

My brows pinch. “What?”

He leans in, his lips grazing my ear until the warmth of his breath causes me to shiver. “I think you want to know what trouble tastes like.”

I allow myself to close my eyes for a split second and absorb the moment before turning my head toward where his lips linger. If I move ever so slightly, our lips will touch. It could be my first kiss, and I bet it would be a good one. Kaiden seems like he knows what he’s doing, not that I want to think about him doing this with other girls.

How many people does he travel to see on school break? He already admitted he doesn’t usually take people to his special spot at the sycamore. Yet, for me, he does.

I let my heart absorb the win.

Then I bury it deep, deep down.

His breath caresses my mouth, invites me in. My nose nuzzles his cheek as I take in his masculine scent.

I exhale. “Pass.”

Then I walk away.





Chapter Twenty-Three





At some point during America’s Funniest Home Videos reruns, I fall asleep next to Kaiden on the couch. I don’t remember curling up or using Kaiden’s thigh as a pillow, but it’s how I wake up. His arm is draped over me casually, his breathing even.

I hear Grandma from the kitchen, talking and rattling around dishes, and realize she’s speaking to Kaiden. Pretending to still be asleep, I flutter my lids closed and try not to think about the hard muscle under my cheek.

“I think it’ll be good for them,” Grandma says quietly, her footsteps nearing. “I want nothing more than to see them get along like they used to. It’s been…tough.”

Kaiden doesn’t seem to buy it. His arm around me tightens gently. “And whose fault do you think that is?”

There’s a pregnant pause. “I’m not dismissing my daughter’s actions, young man. What I’m saying is that I want them to find happiness again.”

I feel eyes on me, so I force myself to remain still. The sweet smell of cinnamon wraps around me like an invisible blanket, causing my muscles to ease into him despite the tense conversation.

“I’ve made dinner reservations for the four of us tonight.” Something ruffles and then I see Grandma’s navy blue orthopedic shoes come into view through the narrow slits of my eyes. “It’s their favorite restaurant, and I’m sure you’ll find something you like as well.”

She kisses my forehead lightly.

“I love them both,” she tells him softly, her hand gently brushing my hair. I fight back a grimace from the way my scalp reacts. “I just don’t know how to fix them.”

Kaiden’s thumb brushes the bare skin of my stomach where my shirt must have ridden up during my nap. I bite back making a noise, but the slightest jerk of my body in his hand causes him to press down knowingly.

“Do you think forcing them to eat dinner across from each other will really help?” he doubts.

“What else can I do?”

“Sometimes we can’t do anything.”

Grandma moves away, her touch disappearing along with the cherry blossom scent from her lotion. “I don’t believe that. When you love people as much I love these two, you find ways to help heal them.”

“What if the damage is too much?”

Grandma’s steps stop. “Healing doesn’t mean the damage never existed. It just means that it can no longer control our lives. I sincerely hope you remember that. I know a hurt soul when I see one, boy. You and Emery are one in the same, which means you’re also tough. It doesn’t matter what battle you’re fighting, it only matters that you’re willing to fight.”