Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(11)

I couldn’t handle seeing those hazel eyes. The way the flecks of green blazed like emeralds in the sun when she laughed. Or was mad. Or when I kissed her.

Chris gave me a shove as we headed down Main Street. “Screw off. That three-pointer would’ve been nothing but net if you hadn’t gotten in my way.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure. You’re basically LeBron.”

Jude snorted. “He’s just waiting to get drafted straight out of high school.”

“You both suck,” Chris shot back.

“Hey, isn’t that Wren?” Jude asked.

Just her name had something deep inside me tightening. As I turned and caught sight of the form at the end of the dock, my steps faltered. It was something about the slope of her shoulders and how they curved inward as if she were hiding from the world.

Like that would work. Wren was the kind of stunning that had all the guys at school taking notice—just waiting until fall when she was a freshman.

I slapped Jude on the back. “I’m gonna go check on her. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Seriously?” Chris complained.

Jude chuckled. “Guy’s got it bad. Let him shoot his shot.”

I ignored them and headed off in a jog. It didn’t take me long to reach her, but Wren didn’t look up, not even when I lowered myself onto the dock next to her.

The breeze picked up, blowing her light brown hair out of her face. That was when I saw it. The tracks tears had left behind on her cheeks.

Everything in me twisted as panic lanced through me. A million possibilities for her tears ran through my head, each one worse than the one before. “What happened, Cricket?”

She stared out at the lake. The sun had set, but there was still a glow in the air. “I love the twilight. Even after the sun’s gone, no one can forget that it was there.”

An ache took root in my chest. “Your parents?”

“They forgot my birthday’s tomorrow. They decided to leave on a trip. Asked your parents if I could stay with Grae for the week.”

God, I wanted to rip her parents a new one. They were always taking off on her. They’d ask her grandma to stay or send her to a friend’s house. The only thing they cared about was her getting straight As. They didn’t give a damn about anything else.

They didn’t see how amazing their daughter was. Didn’t see that she had an empathy which meant she saw things the rest of the world missed. Had a kindness that meant she welcomed everyone into her circle. And a loyalty that meant she’d always have your back.

I wrapped an arm around Wren’s shoulders, pulling her into my side. She felt right there. As if it was where she always belonged.

Wren burrowed her face in my chest. “I don’t want to care. It’s not like this is the first time. But I keep thinking that if I’m good enough, get my grades higher, join more clubs—something—that I’ll be worthy of their love.”

My hand cupped her cheek, lifting her face so I could stare into her eyes. My thumb swiped at the fresh tears that had started to spill. “You’re worthy, Cricket. Beyond worthy.”

Those hazel eyes sparked as Wren’s breath hitched.

“You’re the most amazing, kind, beautiful person I’ve ever known. If they can’t see that, then it’s their loss.”

Her gaze dropped to my mouth as if she were memorizing the words that fell from it.

Some invisible force pulled me in, closer than I’d ever dared. I stopped just shy of those bee-stung lips. But Wren closed the distance and made that final leap.

When she made contact, the flavor of her mint lip balm bursting on my tongue, I knew I’d never be the same.

My fingers closed around my keys, squeezing tightly as I ripped myself out of the memory. I didn’t need thoughts of those eyes dancing in my head or her taste on my tongue. They already haunted my nightmares. I didn’t need them taunting my days, too.

Beeping the locks, I climbed behind the wheel and continued out of town. The tightness in my chest eased a little. I wasn’t as much at risk now. A chance run-in was far less likely.

I knew from my check-ins that she lived in a small cabin on the opposite side of town. It was remote. No roommate. No live-in boyfriend, as far as I could tell. I hated the idea of her being out there. Cut off. And given how cell service worked here, I doubted she had any out there. I just prayed to God she had a landline.

My SUV hugged the curves of the mountain road, taking me higher. My dad had bought the property just out of college when the land was cheap. Then built a small cabin for Mom and him to live in. It still stood on the same land today, but when he’d started his outdoor gear company, and it had taken off, he’d built something bigger—something they could grow into—and they’d needed the space with five kids.

I turned off the main road onto a private drive marked only by a small street sign. My gut tightened as my SUV climbed and slowed in front of a gate. It fit with the property, made of rustic wood with Hartley burned into a crossbeam.

When I rolled down my window, my finger paused for the briefest moment before pressing the intercom.

My mom’s voice came across the line a second later, and the gate was already opening. “Holt, get up here! Didn’t you have the code?”

I didn’t because I’d never driven in before. When I came for Thanksgiving or Christmas, I took a chopper from Portland and landed on the helipad my dad had installed for emergencies—and those visits had been few and far between. “I guess not.”