Page 49 of One Billion Reasons

“We’ll see about that.” She gives me a small smile. “Have you heard? It’s a trivia competition today. I can’t wait to win.”

“You don’t even know what the game is,” I shoot back, but I’m grinning. Lane is viciously competitive when it comes to games. Scrabble, trivia, Settlers of Catan, you name it, she wants to beat you at it.

“Don’t care. You know I love trivia. I won last year in the trivia league near our apartment.”

“Not bad.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she grumbles.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Always hiding. I’m surprised you even told me you won.” I shake my head.

“Liam is the smart one,” she murmurs. “Not me. I get by. But I wish I were smarter. Book smart. Like you.”

I stop and spin her so she’s facing the ocean. Foolish girl. She’s brilliant. Always has been.

“What do you see when you look out at the ocean?”

“Um, water? What are you doing, Miles?”

I squeeze my hands on her shoulders. “Seriously. Describe it to me, Laney.” Describe it to me, because I can barely stand to look at it.

“Well, the ocean reminds me of you, I guess. Smooth, until you look beneath the surface. Then there are hidden depths. Hidden power. And relentless when it encounters an obstacle.” My breath seizes in my chest.

“But also, I see the way the spray hits that rock out there. The light catches it just right. If you stay and watch, you’ll see the gulls like that rock. There’s one that keeps coming back to drop shellfish on it. When I was down at the beach yesterday, I noticed all the shells of little creatures that were broken open. Lots of blues and purples and greens scattered through a carpet of chalky white.”

“See?” I say roughly. “I don’t see that. You’re special, Lane. Stop putting yourself down in front of me.”

She’s silent, and I wonder if I shouldn’t have said anything. Would she prefer for me to hate her, even though I never really did? Too late now.

My eyes dip to her back, where it’s bared under a tank top. She has a delicate tattoo running from the nape of her neck and disappearing into her shirt. I want to run my tongue over her soft skin, but I settle for running my thumb over her shoulder. I carefully keep my gaze on her instead of the water. That’s a first. The first time it’s ever been safer to stare at Lane Overton.

“What does your tattoo mean?”

She sighs. “It’s a constellation. My dad used to take me stargazing a lot. Liam was never interested. He was too full of energy and plans to stare at the stars. Too focused on why the stars looked the way they did. But I loved it.” She looks out over the water. “I miss them. My dad had this special presence that always made things more fun. He was the life of the party. And he taught us so many things. Backyard camping, how to start a fire, how to change a tire.” She trails off.

“It’s been twelve years in October, right?”

She startles. “Yes. How did you know?”

“You told me.” Lane told me one anniversary of their death, and I’ve never forgotten. She looks pleasantly surprised that I remember.

“How many years for you?”

I lean against the wall so I can face her. “Just two. I guess you know, because of the accident.”

“I didn’t know he died that night. I’m sorry, Miles.” Her eyes are huge and sympathetic. I want to pull her against me and bury my head in the crease of her neck. Not a single person has ever seen me grieve my father, but Lane wouldn’t judge. She might be the one person other than Liam who knows exactly what it feels like.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, though. You saved Liam’s life. On the hardest night of your life. And then you lied to the cops to protect him. I’ll never forget it. Thank you.” Her voice is husky with emotion, and I shut my eyes. It was the worst night of my life, and the tequila helped, at first. Until we were in the car and my stomach was sloshing and turning with liquor and misery.

Gravel crunches and then warm woman lands against me. Her arms go around my waist and her face presses into my chest, right over my heart. My arms circle her by reflex, and my chest tightens.

“I know you’ll never shed a tear in front of me, so I’ll tell you—it’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to have days when you don’t want to get out of bed. When you want to shout at the world, but nobody’s listening. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.” Her voice is muffled by my shirt, but forceful. And then she stands on her tiptoes and presses her palms to my chest and kisses me on the cheek.

I’m stunned when she steps away, a mess of frustration and want and grief. My embrace earlier was for show, but this is real. Lane and I are back. And right when I’ve half convinced myself that sleeping with her might be worth it.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

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