Page 90 of Wild Eyes
I sniff and gently press against him. He’s killing me. His sugary, little voice, speaking with such brave honesty. “I love talking to you. No matter what you say, I will always listen.”
“I love talking to you too, Skylar.”
His body presses back against mine so that we lean together. When I glance at him, I can see his eyes roving my blank page. Then he reaches for the notebook and the pen, his small hand gripping it as it moves across the page.
When he hands it back, he’s written the first line of a song.
It all started on a backroad.
When I peek over at him, he’s grinning—a tight-lipped grin that’s keeping him from laughing, though I can tell he wants to.
“Your dad told you about the bear, huh?”
A soft chortle escapes him as he nods. “Emmy is at an outdoor survival camp this week. Bet she’ll have advice for you.”
“Really funny, Ollie.” I bump him again with my shoulder, and this time he does laugh. It’s so light, so childlike.
It’s fucking music to my ears.
I look down at the first line he’s written…
And it seems as good a place as any to start.
A soft knock at the guest room door has me tearing my attention from my bird book. I’ve been flipping through it, savoring every page. The art is beautiful.
I showed Cherry a blue jay, and she said, “Ugly bird,” but I’m sure she’s just jealous because she’s mostly gray.
“I need to talk to you,” a voice whispers urgently. My heart pounds hard for a few beats, thinking it might be West knocking. But it’s not him.
It’s Emmy. And she comes in before I even have a chance to answer. A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table tells me it’s eleven o’clock at night.
Well past her bedtime.
And also, the time we all know West goes out to do a night check.
Night check that I haven’t been accompanying him on because that feels like a slippery slope. Put us in a quiet barn together and one of three things happens:
I spill my deepest, darkest secrets.
I kiss him.
We stand in silence, eye fucking the hell out of each other.
The only place more dangerous for us is, apparently, a canoe.
She shuts the door with the utmost care and tiptoes across the guest room. Then, without asking, she crawls up onto my bed and kneels beside me with wide eyes.
“Skylar, we need to talk about bear safety,” she says somberly.
I clamp my lips together, desperately trying to hold in my laughter as I nod back at her.Veryseriously.
“Our dad told us about how you guys met today.”
I’m definitely going to kill West.
“Boooring,” Cherry taunts, and I slice her a glare. Based on Emmy’s giggles, she seems amused by my parrot’s sarcasm.
“He did, did he?”
