Page 13 of Close to the Edge

We spend fifty eight minutes up at the wishing pool, and I grit my teeth through every single one of ‘em.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep inside?” Rowan’s voice drifts through the trees hours later, his boots crunching against dried pine needles as he strolls up to my makeshift camp.

I’m in eye line of the cabin, but far enough away to give Rowan and Evie some privacy. They both urged me to crash on their sofa yesterday, even offering to make some fancy nest on their living room floor, but there’s nothing wrong with a hammock slung beneath the stars. Sometimes the simple ways are the best.

“I’m good.” My backpack hangs on a nearby stubby branch, and I’ve stretched out a sleeping bag in the hammock to beat the nighttime chill. It may be a hot, sweaty summer so far, but up in the mountains, the temperature plummets after dark. “Told you I’d camp out when we planned this visit.”

“I know, but—”

“It’s all good, man. You remember all those nights on tour when we slept on bare dirt? Or your five star stay in that cave?”

Rowan huffs a laugh, folding his arms as he watches me wind down to sleep. I’m fussing really, checking my backpack and the hammock ties, because I’m still wound too tight after everything with Tess earlier.

Might never sleep again.

“Did you tell Tess that I’m doing better?” Rowan asks.

Shit. After everything else that happened, there’s another broken promise to add to the pile.

“I forgot,” I say, scrubbing my face. “Sorry, man. Next time I see her, I swear I’ll bring it up.”

“No worries,” Rowan says, but he scratches his chin and peers off between the trees, looking distracted. The light’s fading fast now, with more shadows than detail on this patch of mountainside, but the first stars of the night are going strong. They wink high overhead, scattered across the cosmos. “Did she seem upset earlier to you?”

My shrug is robotic. “Not sure.”

And god, I hate lying. Hate tiptoeing around and keeping secrets and playing these mind games. Why can’t things be straightforward?

I love Rowan like a brother. And I want to bury myself to the hilt in his little sister, pound until she screams, then fuss over her for every day of her life.

Why can’t those two truths go together? Why’s everything gotta be so damn complicated?

“I’ve failed her so many times,” Rowan says quietly, addressing the trees. “I’m failing her again, I know it. But I don’t know how to fix that fact.”

I’m woozy as I kick off my boots beneath the hammock. It’s been a long ass day, and though I may be too wired to sleep, I’m ready to get horizontal. “Have you told her that?”

Rowan blinks at me, his gray eyes darkened to charcoal by the night. “You think I should?”

The trees creak as I climb into the hammock, but the whole set up holds firm. I sigh, stretching my back out until it pops. “Probably, yeah. Tess is strong, you know? She can handle a hard conversation. Besides, it’s always better to be honest.”

Hark who’s talking. If you could sniff out hypocrisy, I’d stink to high heaven right now, but Rowan nods thoughtfully and clicks his tongue. “Night, man. Shout if a wolf tries to snack on you.”

I wriggle to get comfy. “Will do.”

It takes nearly an hour once he’s gone for my racing heart to slow down. Even longer for the burning heat in my veins to cool. I’m too shaken up by my buddy’s little sister; too rattled by everything that went down at the wishing pool. And as I finally drift off to sleep in the hammock, arms folded tight over my chest, I’m still harder than stone. Need Tess so badly my abs ache.

Not for you. Not for you.

If only my body would get that memo.

Seven

Tess

What’s a polite way to ask when the hell your brother’s old friend is gonna leave town? Propping both elbows on the bar at Flint’s, I mull it over.

See, I need Ash to get out of Starlight Ridge yesterday, and I also hate, hate, hate the thought of him going. It’s a wonder I haven’t raided the bar’s liquor stores, because I’m frazzled to high hell this afternoon, and it’s not even 1pm.

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