Page 2 of Heart Strings & Hotlines
It makes no logical sense, but her voice quiets my inner narrator. He never truly shuts up, but it’s more a whisper in the background when she’s speaking than the constant gnat buzzing in my head.
“I take it she’s in the office. Thank you, sort of.” Thank God I don’t have to stick around here anymore. I’m still twitchy from Rowan’s laugh.
“Boundaries, Thane. I know you know what that means.” But her words hit my back as I head toward Lottie and the source of that PA system.
Yeah, I know what boundaries are. I simply choose to interact with so few people that I rarely have to implement them—that’s what I pay people for.
The gravel pathway that leads to the camp office crunches beneath my shoes. This place is run-down, and I hate it. I swear, if I catch some parasite from one of these wild children running around, I won’t be happy.
I round the corner to the office but stop when I hear my sister, Kara. Is she laughing?
Laughing equals happy. Sometimes laughing equals frustrated or nervous.
Emotions are too damn messy, but Kara is the exception to all my rules. She has been since the moment our father and my stepmother brought her home from the hospital. She’s the messy rainbow in my perfectly organized black-and-white life, even if her attitude may kill me.
Wait a minute.I unlock my phone to pull up the schedule we were given. Kara’s supposed to be in arts and crafts.
“I’m sure it’s not all bad.” Lottie’s voice washes over me, and I inch closer to the window.
“Trust me, it is. But I don’t think it’s all his fault.” Kara’s talking so softly that I have to press my ear to the screen to hear. The scrape of the metal against my skin sends a cold shudder through me, and I move back slightly.
If Kara always spoke this way, we wouldn’t have half of our issues. Lately she’s been a wild thing, constantly waving her arms in the air—it’s so distracting. How the hell am I supposed to pay attention to what she’s saying when her body language is so erratic?
“What do you mean?” Lottie asks.
“He’s…different.”
Different.
Right.
My sister knows I’m fucking…different. Until recently, she was the only one in my family who had never treated me like a pariah.
“Different, how?”
“Okay, like, he doesn’t get mad. I mean, he does, but doesn’t change his voice—everything is barked like an order. It’s weird. And he never cries. He never, ever laughs?—”
“I laugh.” The words are rough in my throat as I stomp around the building to the front door.
Kara’s eyes are wide when I enter, but she makes herself so small. I want to tell her to stand up, be big, but I don’t know how that would go over, so I stay silent. Instead, I focus on Lottie and completely lose my train of thought.
I’ve studied her in pictures.
But this isn’t the same—it’s unexpected. And I loathe the unexpected.
Most of the time.
“Thane, I presume.” Her lips twitch, stealing my attention.
The nuances of human emotions are a language I’ve never cared to learn, but perhaps I was too hasty in that decision because I want to study every curve of her face until I’m fluent.
I seal my lips together, so I don’t say the thought running through my mind—I want to fuck you. My cheek burns with the echo of a sting, remembering what happened the last time those four little words left my lips.
Funny that I can’t even remember what that woman looked like.
But there’s something about Lottie Sinclair that’s searing the vision of her into my eyeballs. I feel it as though I’ve stared straight at the sun for too long.
Her long dark hair is piled on top of her head with strands sticking every which way as though she just rolled out of bed, and it might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, which is unnerving. I prefer everything to be in order—neat and tidy.
