Page 57

She doesn’t answer back. The connection is lost.

“Lyra!” I try again, but all the snaps and crackles of interference ruin any attempt to talk to my sister.

“Fuck!” I toss the mic down onto the table and grind my teeth together. I didn’t want to stop talking to her. I feel so much after hearing her voice. She made everything make sense with a simple statement.

There’s only one more thing left to ask myself. Do I have the courage to do anything about it?

Alaska’s grunt has me peering out the window again, my mouth so close to the glass, my breath fogs it.

Sweat shines on his skin, his muscles rippling in his torso, arms, and back as he slams the axe down on another piece of wood. He bends down to pick up another piece and one-hands the giant log.

I drink him in like a man dying of thirst after days wandering the desert as the sun burns my skin. From head to toe, I memorize every damn curve he has.

His jeans are faded in all the right places. His thighs, round ass, and even the front where his cock lies against his leg. One swing too hard and those jeans just might disintegrate into pieces.

One can only hope.

I’m going to go out there and ask him out on a date. If he says no, then I’ll lick my wounds and never stop thinking about him.

He can’t say no, right? He has to feel what I’m feeling. He has to.

I get up, preparing myself for the worst, my stomach rolling in nervous waves that have me standing here alone in the living room.

“You can do this, Leo.” I march forward, the words running through my head in a jumbled mess.

How do I do this? Do I blurt it out?

“Hey, Alaska. Would you want to go out and get a few beers sometime?” I try the words on myself and freeze in the middle of the kitchen, a look of disgust pinching my face. “Absolutely not. That sounds too casual.”

I stare at the kitchen door, my throat really dry all of a sudden. Clearing my throat, I reach for the juice I didn’t finish and chug it, setting the glass down with a hard thud and an “Ah.”

Refreshing.

“Alaska,” I try again. “I think we should go out sometime. Just the two of us.” I groan with a tilt of my head. “You’re overthinking it. Just walk out there and ask him out. Then you’ll know, and you can move on with your life.”

The front door opens with a fast swing and hits the wall with a hard thud. I jump, not expecting anyone to come through that door. Alaska is standing there, breathing so hard his nostrils flare, his shoulders rise and fall, and he looks more magnificent since he is shirtless.

Glistening sweat clings to his body, his hands gripping the doorframe, showcasing the veins in his biceps.

Someone put me out of my misery already.

His eyes shine a color that isn’t humanly possible, brighter than I’ve ever seen before, and this time, I feel like a meal. As if he is hunting me.

“Did you know there is a formula to figure out how much water intake a person needs a day?” My voice cracks, and I silently chide myself to get my shit together.

He doesn’t say a word. He takes one step forward, and an arrow pierces him from the back, the tip sticking out through the middle of his chest.

Time slows. His eyes fade from a beautiful shade of red to a gorgeous brown that I’m seeing for the first time.

“Alaska!” I scream as loud as I can.

He falls to his knees, dark blood dripping from the wound. I dash to him just as he falls forward. I catch him just in time, keeping him on his knees.

“Alaska? Alaska, hey, I need you to talk to me. Keep your eyes open. You have to.”

His eyes find mine, his palm cupping the side of my face, and I lean against it, pressing my hand against his as I nestle into his palm.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he rasps. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”