Page 8 of Fierce Love
But I can’t stop looking at him, can’t drag myself away. From what I can see, he’s tanned, as though he still enjoys ample time outdoors. Has he spent most of it with Cal at the campground? Does Cal even still live on the island? He used to be so connected to the campground, to the simple life.
A thousand questions begin running through my head in rapid succession—things I haven’t let myself consider since I left here—but when Nate’s shuttered gaze swings to Kinsley, I can almost see him adding up the years. I’ve been told more than once that Kinsley looks like a younger version of me. A twin, if you will.
“And you are?” he says to her, still not addressing me.
“Kinsley Davis,” my sister says, holding out her hand. At leasthermanners are on point.
His very deliberate avoidance should probably annoy me, but I’m grateful for the reprieve, the chance to study him without his piercing gaze undoing me.
Because in all these years, I somehow managed to convince myself that seeing Nate would be hard but not gut-wrenchingly difficult. Standing here, mere feet from him, it’s devastating to realize all these years passed between us and I never got a chance to see any of these subtle changes, have no sense of what happened to create the reserved man he’s obviously become.
My Nate was fiercely protective but also giddy with young love. Whenever we were together, it felt like we were walking on clouds. Nothing could touch us.
Until I crashed back down to earth, alone.
“This is my sister, Hollyn,” Kinsley says, gesturing to me when Nate doesn’t make any move to introduce himself. Why would he? But Kinsley doesn’t know that, doesn’t know much about my childhood in Bellerive. For good reason.
“We’ve met before,” Nate says.
That might be the greatest understatement I’ve ever heard uttered in person. “Met before” as though we weren’t once everything to each other. His comment would be laughable if I wasn’t glued to the spot, unable to move, barely able to breathe.
He seems to drag his gaze off hers to meet mine. His reluctance is clear, but it doesn’t change what happens once we’re face-to-face, and the sharp knife of remembrance slices through me. Can he see the truth, like a stain, coating me? I’d loved him, almost more than I’d ever loved anyone. Romantic love has never been the same—in ruins for anyone else who has come into my life after.
Electrical currents zip through the air between us, alive with our past and all the things we’ve never said, will never say. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice his hand flex, clenching and unclenching at his side. The same way he used to clench thesheets beside my head as he tried to hold on a little longer, bury himself a little deeper.
My stomach drops at the memory.
“We knew each other a long time ago,” I whisper, but I can’t stop staring at him. Right now, “a long time ago” feels like forever and just yesterday. My memory didn’t do his blue-green eyes justice—they’re stormy when all I remember is how brilliant and bright they used to be. A teasing glint never absent for long. Looking at him now, I can’t imagine where that boy went, replaced with this intense manliness. Unfamiliar but still wildly attractive.
His hair is deep brown, much shorter than before, but still has a glossy sheen that makes my fingers twitch with the desire to weave through their former playground. I spent hours toying with the soft strands as we laid in bed talking, daydreaming, hiding from reality. A few months that felt like lifetimes.
God, we were so naïve.
“We were just leaving,” I say, hating how husky my voice sounds.
“Of course,” Nate says, stepping to the side. “I wouldn’t want to hold you back.”
I close my eyes briefly, and I open the door, tugging Kinsley along behind me. While I wait, she closes the door, and I cover my face, taking a deep breath, hoping Nate didn’t see me but not caring enough to pretend. My emotions are a mess right now, and I might have to choose which feelings to hide from Kinsley.
At thirteen, she doesn’t deserve to feel the kind of weight I used to get offloaded onto me from the grownups in my life.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice small.
“Yeah,” I say, closing my eyes again for a couple more deep breaths before squaring my shoulders. “It’s just a lot, but I’ll be fine.”
She laces her fingers with mine and leans into my shoulder, a comfort and a responsibility I never take lightly. No matter what choices I’ve had to make, they’ve been to ensure Kinsley gets the life I always wanted. One run-in with Nate Tucker isn’t going to make me question the path I chose.
Chapter Four
Nathaniel
Acting without thinking is something I did a lot in my youth. If I wanted something or someone, I leapt in with both feet. After Hollyn left, I changed. Heartbreak does that, I guess, though I’ve never put my heart at risk again to test that theory. Maybe it’s only the first one that slices you open, never quite able to heal.
Going to the funeral home without an appointment is the old version of me—the one who leaps first—and I’m already regretting it.
Seeing Hollyn was like being pummeled in the kidneys. If it’s possible, she’s even more beautiful. Where she’d been worryingly thin as a teenager, she’s filled out in adulthood. Lush and full. She’s poised and polished without seeming artificial. Leaving the island doesn’t look like it’s disagreed with her.
Her naturally wavy auburn hair was tamed today and fell just below her shoulders, unlike the short bob she had in high school.Every detail of her appearance kept getting slotted into place over the old version the longer we stood staring at each other. Redrawn in my memories.
