Page 29 of Born in the Spring

“You can’t hold this against me,” Shepherd said to my back, like he was trying to put a control on my emotions, so for that, I planned on doing the opposite.

Until he added, “Please. I can’t back off from a woman I have feelings for.”

He should’ve backed off. But he didn’t. And now he had them, and so did she, and neither of them could control their feelings any more than I could.

“But I am sorry you have to.”

This was where we were now, and I lost again.

Twelve

Jasper / Now

You’ll always be too young for her.

Shepherd’s voice wakes me like a blow to the head, at the tail of the best dream I’ve had in a while.

I sigh into my pillow, cuddled to my chest and stuffed to my face, as I try to refind Elara somewhere in the pillowcase, but I’m now too aware of reality to seek more sleep. I’m notwellrested, but I’m not as tired as I usually am in the mornings. My body knows it’s a kind of different day, because my mind made me dream about the reason. My breathing feels lighter in my chest, like there’s new air around me, and I’m not feeling like I want to slug out of bed.

Elara’s not just in my head. She’s back to meet these days with me.

It’s okay.

I need us to be us.

Her words shut out my brother’s, flutters back in my gut, and I try to ignore the twinge in my next heartbeat as I get outof bed, squinting at the sunlight from my window. I stretch a kink out of my back, my entire body ready for a hot shower.

And something quick to stuff in my mouth, the flutters shifting into hunger pangs.

I’m searching for some jeans and a clean sweater to change into from my signature tank and pajama pants when someone bangs on my front door.

One guess it’s Court.

I pad through the living room with my change of clothes in hand, noticing, for not the first time but for the first time since I was back in Shepherd’s space, my lodge has the same layout as his. It’s good for my head that our furniture is in different spots and not all the same. I don’t have a coffee table. I don’t have a television. Any entertainment I need I can get from my phone. And I’m more of a random short videos kind of guy.

Elara’s lodge,I correct myself as I chuck my clothes onto the couch, my hunger pangs turning queasy.Her furniture.

Court’s stomping snow off his boots when I whip open the door, inviting the sudden chill to peak every hair on my body. “Your nipples are getting excited to see me,” he quips, and I glance down at my chest. And apparently those too, both now poking some through my tank.

“And my eyes are up here,” I quip back as I back more into the room, my fingers in a V at said eyes. “Hurry and close the door,” I add as I turn for the kitchen, hearing theclicka second later.

“It’s already been a busy as hell morning out there.” There’s a smile behind Court’s complaining, still fed and pumped up with the energy of being out on the slopes, regardless of how exhausting it can also be. And the only thing I’m being fed is whatever I have lying around this kitchen. “Got a beer?”

I’m already opening the fridge to grab a can of root beer when I hear him flop himself onto the couch. If it wasn’t earlier in the day, I’d get him a real beer from the top shelf. I bring him the can as he jumps back up, then I walk back to the counter for my loaf of bread. I take one slice and stuff it into my mouth before taking a second one, then spin the bag closed and shove it against the wall.

Breakfast is more of a snack for me, and bread’s good by itself and it’s filling. Enough to settle my stomach until lunch.

I was always in a hurry in the mornings. And it seems I’m back to being in a hurrythismorning.

When I face Court, with half a chunk of bread sticking out of my mouth, he gives me a knowing look from behind the tipping of his can. “What’s the rush?”

I chuckle at his noticing—though I’m getting a later start still—and tear off the chunk, staring down at it as I take my time chewing and swallowing my bite, thinking about Elara, before I look at Court again.

“Have you seen her?”

“Yeah, I saw her,” he says, poking his tongue into his cheek to hide a smirk. “And I talked to her.” Before I can pry, he adds, “It was all over my phone too.” Then he quotes in a dramatic voice, “What does it mean for Blue Cornelia? What does it mean for Shepherd Cassidy’s younger brother?”

I pause my next bite in my mouth before I choke on it. “It doesn’t say that.” I’m denying and questioning.

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