Page 77 of From the Wreckage
It should terrify me, the depth of what I feel for him now. Instead, it makes me protective. Fierce. Like carrying his secrets has made them my own. And even as my lips still tingle from his kiss, dread coils low in my stomach, whispering that if anyone ever finds out—if my dad does—this fragile, impossible thing between us will shatter before it even has the chance to breathe.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, pressing my palms over my eyes. Part of me wants to stay in this room forever, hoarding last night like some secret treasure no one can touch. But life doesn’t stop because my heart has been rewritten. Dad will be up soon, and I have to act normal. Like nothing’s different.
By the time I pad into the kitchen, the scent of coffee and frying bacon has already filled the cabin. Dad is at the stove, spatula in hand, humming under his breath. It’s such a normal scene, it almost hurts. My throat tightens as I slip into a chair, praying he can’t see through me.
“Mornin’, kiddo.” He flips a strip of bacon. “You sleep okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie, tugging at the hem of my T-shirt. “Fine.”
His eyes flick toward me, sharp and assessing. For a second, panic spikes hot and fast in my chest.Does he know? Can he see Everett’s confession stamped across my skin?
But then he nods and turns back to the stove, oblivious to my secret. Relief rushes through me so fast it makes me dizzy.
I manage to choke down a piece of toast, but it tastes like ash in my mouth. Every smile I give Dad feels borrowed. Forced. As if one wrong word will make everything collapse.
Later that afternoon,I walk through town, hoping the cool air will clear my head. It doesn’t. My thoughts chase themselves in vicious circles. Everett’s broken voice, the look in his eyes when he told me about losing everyone and everything. The dirty secret of loving him that I harbor like a fugitive.
Inside The Pine & Page, Lily waves from behind the counter, her cheerful energy a little too sharp this morning. “Morning, sweetheart. You and Everett have been spending a lot of timetogether, huh? I swear, I hardly see you without him. And vice versa.”
The comment is light and teasing, but it lands like a stone in my gut. My throat goes dry, my hand tightening on the strap of my bag. I force a laugh that sounds wrong even to my own ears. “He’s just… friends with my dad. He’s been helping out a lot lately.”
“Mm-hm.” She winks, clearly unconvinced. “Well, good for him. And you.”
I smile tightly, though it doesn’t reach my eyes. My heart pounds like everyone in the shop can hear it, like Lily’s voice has set fire to a fuse I can’t snuff out. Small towns don’t need proof to start talking. All it takes is one person to look too closely.
I mumble something about needing coffee. I place my order, and as soon as I wrap my hand around the cup, I hurry for the door, the bell above it jingling far too loudly as I push outside.
The cool air hits me, but it doesn’t soothe the panic twisting in my chest. Because if Lily’s already guessing… how long before someone else does? How long before my dad knows?
The drive back to the lake feels longer than usual, every mile dragging beneath the weight of Lily’s words. I tell myself I’m being paranoid, that she didn’t mean anything by it. But the echo of her words won’t stop circling in my head.
By the time I reach his cabin, my chest is tight, and my palms are damp. Everett’s truck is parked crooked in front of his porch, like he came home in a rush. Just seeing it there is enough to pull me forward, no matter how my stomach twists.
He’s out back, crouched by the dock, tightening the ropes on his boat. The sun slants across his shoulders, turning the pale scars into silver streaks. My heart lurches at the sight of them, fierce and aching all at once.
“Hey,” I call, my voice thin.
His head jerks up, surprise flashing before his mouth tilts into that smile he only ever gives me. “Hey, angel.”
I step onto the dock behind his house, every board creaking like it’s ratting me out. He studies me for a beat too long, and I know he sees the tightness in my jaw, the way I can’t quite meet his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone low and cautious.
“Nothing.” The lie stumbles out too fast. I wrap my arms around myself, staring at the water rippling around us. “Just… Lily was chatty this morning, that’s all.”
His brows knit, his body going still. “What did she say?”
I shake my head, wishing I could swallow the words back down. “Just that she hardly sees me without you. I told her you were my dad’s friend and have been helping with stuff… She seemed skeptical.”
The silence stretches, heavier than the lake air. He straightens slowly, his hands flexing at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to reach for me. “But she has no proof, angel.”
“No,” I whisper, finally dragging my eyes to his. The pain there guts me. “But people are starting to notice, Everett. And if they notice…” My throat closes. “My dad?—”
He closes the distance in two steps, his hand brushing my arm, not quite daring to hold it. “Brielle. Look at me.”
I do, and it’s like drowning. Warm brown eyes carry all the wreckage he showed me last night, but also tenderness for me.
“Let them talk,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “I don’t give a damn what they say. The only thing that matters is you and me.”
