Page 51 of Cold Front
CHAPTER19
NIALL
Boxes sat on my desk, stacked neatly, but they might as well have been bricks weighing down my chest. I hadn’t looked at them in years. Hadn’t let myself.
Now, they were here, taking up space in my room, a decision I couldn’t take back.
Eli wasn’t home yet. That was good. Gave me time to second-guess myself, which I was doing a damn good job of. My fingers hovered over the lid of the top box before I forced myself to rip the tape off.
Dust clung to my hands. I wiped them on my sweatpants, my throat tightening. It was just wood and glue. Just a stupid hobby I’d buried because it hurt too much to remember why I started it in the first place.
I reached inside and lifted the first ship out. Carefully. Reverently. The weight of it was familiar, yet foreign. And then, without warning, my father’s voice echoed in my head.
Precision, Niall. Steady hands.
The memory hit hard.
I was eight the first time he let me help him. I could still hear the scrape of the sandpaper, feel the rough wood beneath my fingertips as I clumsily smoothed the edges of the tiny hull. My father’s hands guided mine, steadying them as I worked. Like this, bud. Gentle, always gentle.
I’d grinned up at him, proud when he nodded in approval. That night, I fell asleep dreaming of sails and open seas, my hands still smelling like sawdust and glue.
For years, it was ours. Our thing. We built ships together every summer, each one more intricate than the last. The summer before I left for college, we stayed up past midnight finishing a model of an old whaling schooner, my dad laughing when I accidentally glued my fingers together. I told him we could build another over winter break.
We never got the chance.
My grip tightened around the tiny ship in my hands. Three years. Three years without this, without him.
I exhaled slowly, setting the ship on the shelf above my desk. One by one, I pulled out the others, arranging them carefully. The tools came next—familiar in my hands but distant, like they belonged to someone I used to be. By the time I’d arranged them all, the sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the room.
The front door opened.
Eli was home.
I heard the shuffle of his footsteps, the rustle of his jacket as he tossed it onto the couch. A muffled sigh. The fridge opened, then closed. Normal sounds of him settling in.
I hesitated, rolling a small carving knife between my fingers. I’d opened up more to Eli than I had to anyone in years—more than I meant to. And yet, instead of regretting it, I felt something else. A pull. Like if there was anyone I could share this with, it was him.
Eli was halfway to his own room when he stopped short, turning toward me. His backpack was slung over one shoulder, the strap digging into his hoodie. His hair was tousled, the ends sticking up a little like he’d run his fingers through it a few too many times. There was a faint crease on his cheek, like he’d been leaning on his hand in class. His brows pulled together, eyes sharp but questioning. “Yeah?”
I shifted, clearing my throat. “That thing you asked about a while back… the models.” I exhaled, dragging a hand over my jaw. “If you still wanna see them.”
For a second, he just stared. Like he hadn’t expected that at all. Then something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe even something softer—and he was moving before I could change my mind.
I stepped aside, letting him in.
The moment his gaze landed on the ships, his entire body went still. His backpack slipped from his shoulder, hitting the floor with a dull thud. “Holy shit.”
My pulse kicked up. I hadn’t been sure how he’d react, but the awe in his voice tightened something in my chest.
Eli stepped closer, his head tilting as he scanned the shelves. His gaze was sharp, taking in every detail. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should.
“You actually build these?” His voice was quieter now, almost careful. “I thought you were just messing with me.”
I crossed my arms, leaning against the desk. “Told you I did.”
“Yeah, but when I said I wanted to see them, you shut that down real quick.” His lips curved, but his usual teasing smirk was softer, edged with something else. Curiosity. Maybe something more. “Didn’t think I’d ever get a look.”
I swallowed, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “Figured it was time.”
