The way his taut muscles move with every motion, I can’t take my eyes off of him. Once his head is through the opening, he pulls the rest of the fabric over his body, and I jerk myself around. I can barely control my rapid breathing.
What is going on?
He’s my bro—adopted brother. This is all kinds of wrong.
Rhys walks through the door,and I quickly stuff more pizza in my mouth, afraid if I have to talk, my voice will betray me.
He drops his dirty clothes on top of the suitcase and then comes over to get another slice himself. When he leans over me, our arms brush against each other, and my entire body stiffens. I hold my breath as his clean scent causes a whole new wave of sweat to pool in my palms.
Please don’t let him notice anything.
But Rhys just grabs his pizza and walks back to the couch. "You coming?"
I keep my eyes trained on the tabletop and finish chewing. "Mm-hmm."
The entire next movie,I am so distracted by my physical reaction that I pay zero attention. Rhys busies himself, reciting Hannibal as expected, and since I know it by heart, I can answer and comment on any question as soon as I glance at the screen.
We watch until right before midnight, then switch to the New Year’s countdown, and toast with our water bottles. Rhys leans over and gives me a tight hug that lingers a little longer than just regular friends. But we have history—a lot of history. I tell myself that it’s nothing out of the ordinary.
Thankfully, my body doesn’t have a mind of its own this time, and when he releases me, I’m finally able to relax. We’re done right before 1:30 a.m. I stumble to my bed and am asleep before my head hits the pillow.
I wake up before Lilly.I glance at her sleeping form, covers pulled almost over her head.
Best New Year ever!
I meant what I said in the car; the partying is not me—never has been. It’s fun, sure, and in the beginning, it was a vice to numb myself. A way to not deal with my feelings toward Lilly or the guilt that consumed me for treating her like shit. As time went on, I realized the numbing only worked temporarily. Once it wore off, everything came flooding back tenfold, and I felt worse than before, because then it was not just my head that was messed up. About a year ago, I quit the extrastufffor good. Some days, I still use the parties and my social status as an excuse to get piss-drunk and forget, but the majority of the time, I fake it—not that anyone notices. Well, Wes does catch on at times. He gives me the squint-eye when I hold the same beer for three hours, but I simply mirror his expression. Within seconds, he’s back to charming his way into the pants of the next chick who glances in his direction.
I don’t like the person I have become to maintain the secret—both secrets, my parents’ and mine—allowing Kat to parade us around as if we are the perfect couple, feeding into the fucking pretense she loves so much, and just nodding when some guy tells me how lucky I am tobagKatherine Rosenfield. I just want to respond with, "Have at it," but I can’t. People see what they want to see: a smoking-hot cheerleader that’s at the top of the high school food chain and her athlete boyfriend. Not once in two years has Kat asked me how I’m doing—not once. And again, I just play along. I don’t call her out on it. My life is a big. Fat. Farce.
Until now, that is. Now that Lilly knows, I can finally be myself, even if it’s just with her. But that’s all that counts. And if she ends up telling Denielle and Wes the truth, I don’t have to put up a front with them anymore, either. Maybe Den will stop with the death glares. I’m a selfish prick for hoping.The reason we’re here is to find answers for Lilly. It’s her life, her past, and her future.Her safety.
I shake myself out of the depressing mood. We had a great evening. I hadn’t enjoyed myself that much in a long time, and using New Year’s as an excuse, I gave in to my urge to be close to her.
We’ll make it through this trip and then figure out where to go from there.
Lilly stirs around nine-thirty.I’ve been scrolling through my social media for the past hour but don’t see anything worth mentioning. Kat is enjoying the Florida sun. Wes posts almost hourly videos of himself attempting some snowboarding stunt—most of them failing. They are the usual Christmas break updates.
I also check Lilly’s account, but there is nothing to see. Mom and Dad have gone through rigorous security measures. All the family accounts—if they even exist—are locked down. The audience is strictly controlled, and my parents regularly check that there are no pictures of Lilly anywhere. And I mean regularly. They use Dad’s military career and now contractor position as the main reason for their cyber paranoia, but in truth, it’s all about keeping Lilly hidden. I wonder if she’s caught on to that yet.
Lilly eventually opens her eyes and squints. We didn’t close the blackout curtains, and the window is facing east. Once her eyes have adjusted, she gives me a sleepy, "Good morning."
My worries are forgotten. "Morning yourself."
"How long have you been up?"
"Not long."
She sees my phone in my hand. "Anything I should know?"
"No, same old." I place my phone on the nightstand.
Lilly lets her head plop back onto the pillow, and I add, "Maybe we can swing by the hospital and at least figure out when Madeline is working."
That makes Lilly perch herself up on one elbow. "You think they will tell us?"
I shrug. "Let’s try. We’ll have to come up with a less questionable reason, though."
After calling home—on speakerphone—and wishing Mom and Dad a Happy New Year with some more fake stories about what Wes and Den are up to, we take our time getting ready and hit the road after we find an open Starbucks to load up on caffeine.