Page 34 of Until We Fall

I scan messages, having to work through them slowly as I meander toward our villa. My dads are excited about something. And my brother.

I scroll to the first message, stopping in front of Rory’s and my door. It’s an audio message.

“Hey, D!” My brother’s voice is ecstatic. “Guess what? I found this kick-ass rental and signed a lease for us. All taken care of for next year now. It’s gonna be fantastic, bro.”

I still, keycard halfway in the door, a wash of cold running down my spine.

Damon talks about the apartment. Two bedrooms, one bath.Twoparking spots, which is pretty rare for San Diego. First floor apartment with a patio out back.

A lease.

Damon and I talked about this months ago. I’d told him that if he found a place, he should move on it. Rentals go fast, and it’s nearly impossible to find something decent in our price range.

But fuck…

He did it.

A lease.

In California.

For next year.

His words keep swimming around, over and over.

I push open the door, kicking off my flip-flops before I step inside.

California.

A full year.

That was the plan. Back home with my family. Living with my brother again for the first time in six years. I’ve been excited as hell about that. He’s my older brother, and I’ve always looked up to him. I thought it would be really cool to live together.

I should say something in the chat. I don’t want him to think I’m not excited, because I am. I click on the message box. I just… don’t know what to say.

The room feels quiet, my shoulders stiff. I drop my bag by the door and then cross to the patio and step outside. I inhale a deep breath of island air, warm and tropical. But there’s still a wash of cold down my back.

A full year.

California.

Fuck.

I…

Do I know how to finish that sentence? Do I know what comes next?

I swallow. A deep uncertainty curls in the very back of my thoughts. I can’tpictureit. When I close my eyes, all I see is that empty shop. Half-drunk tea. Yellow daisies on the worktable. I try to picture this new apartment based on what my brother said, but I can’t see that either.

How do we know what’s next in life? How do we decide?

“D?” Rory’s voice comes from behind.

I clear my throat and turn. He’s standing in the open sliding door in his geometric board shorts with a wrinkle between his brows.

He’s so sexy. So kissable, lickable, huggable.

“Hi,” I say, nearly wanting to groan the word, but my voice comes out tight with all those thoughts about California.

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