Page 15 of Close to the Edge

“Over here.” Ash leads me to a patch of scrubby shade by the wall, positioning himself to block the worst of the sun. “Okay. Uh. Have you drunk enough water today? It’s real hot out.”

I sigh and fold my arms. “Ash.”

“Sorry, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, and some part of me can’t help marveling at how much taller this man is than me. How much broader and stronger. What would it feel like if he picked me up? If he crushed me against that barrel chest or pressed me into the wall?

I’ve always been a tall girl. It never occurred to me that I could fantasize about this stuff, yet here we are. It’s all so feasible when the man is Ash.

“So, I promised Rowan I’d talk to you about something.” He shifts from boot to boot. “Should probably be smoother about it, but subtlety was never my strong suit. I’ve always been better with laying all the cards on the table.”

I wait, chewing the inside of my cheek. What is this about, exactly? Did my older brother notice my crush on his best friend? Please god, no.

“It’s—I know you’ve been worried about your brother. Believe me, I know.”

My stomach curdles but I say nothing. Worried chestnut eyes gaze down at me as Ash hurries on.

“And I know it’s not really my place, but I figure maybe it’ll help if you hear it from someone else. Maybe you can trust it better if you hear it from a third party. So I just want to say: he’s doing okay, Tess. Rowan’s doing okay. You don’t have to worry about him every minute any more.”

A lump forms in my throat. I swallow hard, but it doesn’t go away, and my voice is raspy when I say: “How do you know?”

Something about Ash’s crooked smile makes my chest burn like crazy. I’m breathless, staring up at this handsome, gentle giant, so desperate to believe everything he’s telling me. And at some point over the last few seconds, I must have dropped my arms and stepped closer, though I don’t remember doing it. We’re so near now our bodies are nearly brushing.

“You don’t think I got to know your brother inside out over the years together?” Ash’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’ve seen him at his highest and his lowest, Tess. I’ve seen him boil with rage and belly-laugh and weep silently at a campfire. I’ve seen him be a hangry motherfucker in the morning, and I’ve seen him clench his jaw and keep stoic as a doctor reset his dislocated shoulder.”

Rowan dislocated his shoulder? When? How?

What else don’t I know about my only family?

“You don’t have to worry,” Ash says again, brushing his fingertips across my wrist. Nerve endings spark wherever he touches me. “Not like before. Rowan’s never going back to that cave.”

I don’t even realize I’m crying until Ash brushes away my tears, stroking the pads of his thumbs carefully across my cheeks. And we should step back, should get some air, should put some distance between us, but my brother’s best friend cups my face like I’m precious—and I let him.

“It’s been a rough few years,” Ash says solemnly, and I swear, it’s like he’s staring into my soul. Like only he could possibly understand how rough it’s been, and only he can make things better now. “But you’re strong, Tess. And you’re going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay.”

The yard is empty. Insects chirp, and heat shimmers above the distant surface of the road. All around us are mountain peaks and blue, blue skies, but I don’t see any of that stuff. Not when Ash slowly lowers his head, brushing the tips of our noses together.

His breath is minty fresh as it wafts against my lips. Like he got all spruced up and squeaky clean especially to see me.

I should step away. Instead, I grip two handfuls of soft navy t-shirt and twist the fabric so it strains even more.

“You said we couldn’t do this,” I murmur. “You said we couldn’t risk it.”

Callused thumbs stroke my cheeks, and Ash crowds even closer. His chestnut eyes are conflicted as they bore into mine. “Guess I’m weaker than I thought.”

His kiss knocks me off balance—not because he’s rough, but because I’m already straining forward, already reaching and yearning, already dizzy from forgetting to breathe. We groan and clasp and cling together in our tiny patch of shade, tiny rocks scraping beneath our shoes, mouths coming together again and again in bruising union.

Yes.

This is it. This is what I’ve waited twenty-five years for. This is what all the books and songs and movies were about, this feeling—like I’m soaring high above the mountain peaks, even as my belly plummets to the lowest valley.

A needy ache starts up between my legs.

If my heart thuds any faster, my chest will explode.

“Tess,” Ash says between kisses, all ragged and out of breath. He keeps groaning and yanking me closer, kissing me all the way up onto my toes, and sifting his fingers through my ponytail. There’s a flush on his cheekbones that says he’s as worked up by this as I am—and thank god for that.

I’ve been alone for so much of my life. I’d hate to be alone in this too.

“So fucking pretty,” he says now, ducking down to nip my lower lip. That shock of teeth makes my nipples hard beneath my polo-shirt. “So perfect. God, you’re the dream woman, aren’t you? My goddamn dream. You’re even tall and everything.”

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