Page 40 of Where He Ended

Wiping his forehead, he sticks the ax into the ground. He stretches his hands towards the invisible sun, groaning. My attention trails down his stomach, to the perfect V that leads into his jeans. All the muscles in his torso flex, the grooves around his abs growing deeper.

Dear lord, he's magnificent. It's even better to see him like this when he's not aware I'm staring. He acts more comfortable, and I'm free of the wicked intensity of his eyes when he knows he's getting a reaction.

Gently, I rap my knuckles on the door. Dominic looks at me, his forearm pressed to his temple, one eye shut. “You planning to chop enough wood for the whole winter?” I tease.

His smile tugs high on the corner. “I got caught up in how good it felt. Besides, I'd hate for you to be cold tonight.”

I have a pretty confident idea that with him beside me, fire or not, I won't be cold at all.

“Did you find anything?” he asks.

Reality settles in and erases my smile. “Nothing.”

“Dammit.” Grabbing his shirt, he tugs it on then slips his coat over his arms without zipping it. “Let's take a break. Any chance the water is safe to drink? I'm really thirsty.”

“No. But we can get some in the town.” Blinking, I stare past his shoulder. “Actually, better idea. Ever have fresh spring water?”

****

THE BRIDGE HAS STOODhere for longer than six years, and weather and time have taken their toll. It still looks sturdy, though. “I helped build this,” I tell him, nudging the planks with the toe of my shoe. Satisfied it won't collapse, I walk to the middle.

Dominic grips one of the posts and gives it a shake. He seems less sure than me, but he still follows. His shadow mixes with mine as we stand together on the bridge. Placing my palms on the railing, I glide my hands across, exploring the wood.

“Here,” I say, tapping a spot. “Where I carved my name.” And where Kara cut in hers. I outline the letters of my sister's name. Each groove is exactly the same as I remember it. Unchanged -

the opposite of Kara herself.

He's watching me steadily. Pushing off the railing, I turn my back on him and keep walking. “Come on, let's get you that drink.”

It's not a long hike, but it's a tough one. I remember it being much easier. Maybe it was because I'd been small, and spry. My hair would catch on brambles back then, too, but now the long braid snags on every object not made from air.

“There,” I say, pointing as we crest the small hill. A brook trickles over sharp rocks. It's a little wider thanks to the time of year, but it's still only two feet across.

Bending down, I scoop it with my hands and take a deep drink. It hurts my teeth; that's how cold it is. I love it.

Dominic kneels beside me. He copies me, sipping from the brook. His eyes fly wide. “It's delicious.”

“Right?” I laugh. Possessed by something - perhaps the childlike joy in his face - I lean over and kiss him. His mouth is cool and it tastes like the spring. Like crisp life and wild experiences and a world that used to belong to me.

It doesn't anymore,a cruel voice whispers. I can't shake it off. I wanted this visit to be something entirely different. Again and again, life takes my reunions and grinds them under its heel.

Melancholy takes hold and makes my lips go numb. Dominic stops kissing me, studying me with obvious concern. “What's wrong?” he asks, tapping the underside of my chin.

Forcing a smile, I sit on the ground. Up above us the branches of leaf-barren trees reach for the gray sky. “I used to climb these,” I say, pointing. “I was very good at it. Beat my sister a few times.”

“I believe it.” Dominic settles beside me, looking where I am. “When I watched you scale the fence around the preserve, I was impressed at your speed.”

My smile becomes more real. “Thanks,” I whisper, meeting his warm gaze. His fingers are buried in the grass between us. Reaching down, I grip them, watching how he tenses. It's not a bad thing—he isn't nervous. Dominic tightens up with expectation. He's affected by every little brush of our bodies. I am, too. “Does this trip feel like a waste?” I ask.

He's already shaking his head before I finish my question. “Not in the least. It's the first time we've gotten to be alone. Nothing has ever been so precious to me.”

I radiate with pride, hoping he can feel some of my pleasure through my skin. I'm so warm inside hehasto be able to sense it. “You always knew what to say to cheer me up. Even when we were kids, you knew.”

His frown is skeptical. I get ready to explain myself, but he bends down, his kiss better than a smile. A gust of icy wind scratches at my cheeks. My ears are throbbing from the cold. “We should go,” he says, his forehead resting on mine.

“Do we have to?” I ask, chuckling in the back of my throat.

“Wouldn't it be nicer to sit like this in front of your fireplace?”

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