And it shouldn’t be on mine.
Fuck,I hate this hurricane of emotion Josiah brings on simply by being here.
Well, you’re the dumbass who invited him over.
About halfway back to the couch, Josiah peers over at me, gaze locking on mine as I’m walking. “You’re really good,” is all he says.
“What?” My whole body warms.
“Performing,” he clarifies, reminding me that we were talking about my tour before I got up. “You were so good at Uncle Nick’s.”
I hand him his drink before sitting down, trying to ignore how good it feels to hear him say that. “Was that the first time you’ve ever heard me?” I ask, needing to know.
I’ve wondered for years if Josiah ever listened to my music, and if he did, did he like it?
He nods sheepishly before taking a sip. “Yeah. But you were incredible. Very talented.”
His response is a punch to the gut. Did he care about me so little that he didn’t give a shit to check in on me?
I want to ask why.
Why did you never reach out?
Why didn’t you listen to my music? Hear the words that were only ever about you?
Why’d you leave?
But most of all, I want to ask myself why the fuck I still care about the past and all the answers I’ll never receive.
Instead of saying any of that, I give him my best attempt at a smile and say, “Thank you.”
Before he can respond, we’re suddenly blanketed in darkness. It happens just as the sky lights up with a bolt of electricity.
Fuck.Just what I needed right now is a power outage.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket and turning on the flashlight, I stand up. “I’ll go grab some candles,” I murmur.
“I’ll help,” Josiah offers.
My shoulders hike up to my ears when I hear him stand from the couch, and suddenly, his presence is right at my back. I canfeelhim, despite there not being a single part of us touching. It’s always been like this with us. From the moment I realized I looked at him differently than I looked at anybody else, the chemistry was there.
I always wondered if he felt it too, and then he came over the night after the funeral, and I knew he did. The pull, the connection… everything. He felt it too. It was in the way he looked at me, like he couldn’t get enough. It was in the ferocity with which he kissed me. The way he held on to me like he couldn’t let go, even if he wanted to. Like I was a lifeline in the middle of the ocean.
Clearly, it never went away, because as I step into my spare room where I keep all the candles and flashlights, it’s all I can do to not turn around and lean into him. The ferocity of his hold on me, even nearly a decade later, is staggering. It’s alarming. And it’s impossible to ignore.
Thunder rolls outside, rattling the windows, as I pull open the closet doors, reaching up on the top shelf to grab a couple of candles. My heart is pounding, the sound deafening in my ears, as I turn around to face him. We’re nearly the same height, and he’s staring right at me, like he, too, can hear my staccato heartbeat, hear my every thought.
My mouth is dry, tongue stuck to the back of my teeth as I clear my throat. “Here,” I croak, handing him the candles. When Josiah takes them, our fingers brush, and I can feel it everywhere.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I turn, reaching up to grab a couple more when I feel the warmth of his body brush up against my back. I go stock still, my hand resting on the shelf as I feel his breath fan my neck.
“Segan…” My name sounds like a plea falling from his lips.
I don’t move. Hell, I don’t even breathe. I’m paralyzed in place, the intensity of this moment only amplified by the storm outside. His hand brushes my hip, the weight of it somehow calming and unsettling at the same time.
“Look at me, Segan,” he demands, using the grip on my hip to turn me around.
My eyes meet his in the darkness, and it’s like every single emotion I’ve worked so hard to bury over the last eight years shoots to the surface, hitting me all at once like a tsunami. It steals my breath, makes my throat tighten. “What are you doing?”
