Heart bursting with relief, I take Gunner’s hand and let him pull me to the top of the treehouse.
CHAPTER
FIFTY
GUNNER
I’m notsurprised to see Rebel at the treehouse. But deep inside… I was hoping that my hunch was wrong and she wouldn’t show. Or at least that, when she did, I’d have found a way to tell her the truth.
As soon as I hear her footsteps trudging down the path, I have a moment of panic. I’ve felt this adrenaline rush before. But it’s usually during a game, when it’s down to the wire, I’m fighting for control of the puck, and there’s no one around to make the pass.
With a deep breath, I look over the railing and see Rebel climbing up the ladder. Her blonde hair dangles all the way to her back and her bangles clang musically as they crash down her arm to her elbow.
My mind is rushing with a million thoughts, but not even Uncle Clarence’s damaging revelation can stand up to Rebel’s beauty.
In another world, one where fairytales are reality, she’d be a mesmerizing woodland fairy. And she probably wouldn’t need to climb up here because she’d be able to fly.
What on earth am I thinking?
Rebel’s almost at the top of the ladder now. I allow myself the luxury of holding her hand to help her to the platform.
Her fingers are warm against mine and it truly feels like home.
How much longer can you hold on to that hand?Uncle Stewart’s words echo in my mind, a foreboding warning.
The world might say I’m too good for Rebel.
But I’ve always known it’s the opposite.
Rebel Hart is way classier than all the Kinseys combined. And when she finds out the truth, her small, delicate hand will never, ever reach for mine again.
When Rebel’s on steady ground, I remove my hand from hers and take a few steps back. My eyes dart to the shadowy treetops below us, marking a clear path over everything but her face.
The darkness of the night surrounds me. I thought the world would be brighter this high up. Up here, we should be closer to the sky. But the silver streaks from the moon are choked to death by the forest around us and the stars cower behind dark clouds.
“Hey,” Rebel says.
I look at her and my chest squeezes tightly.
“Are you…” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “I won’t even ask. I can see you’re not okay.”
This is it.
Whether I like it or not, the moment has come.
I need to tell her.
I open my mouth, but the words won’t shake loose. My tongue is heavier than the stones on the forest floor and my brain screeches to a halt.
Rebel walks over to me. I hear her footsteps thudding and my heartbeat slows to match the rhythm of her steps.
“You want to count the stars with me?” Rebel asks in a quiet hush.
My eyes lift to hers and fall into liquid blues that were plucked straight out of heaven.
She smiles encouragingly and leads me further into the treehouse where there are less branches obstructing the view. Stooping down, she yanks on my hand until I join her on the floor. The planks are hard against my back and the earthy scent of wood and moss overwhelms me.
“Look at how many stars are out tonight,” Rebel observes, her voice low and filled with awe.
