Page 63
Her head shakes as she pours water into every cup. Beside her, Fox peels protein bars from wrappers and begins handing out mugs of steaming coffee.
“We all need to talk before we go back, you know that, right?” I say to her back while she fills the last mug.
“We do,” she says, tipping the rest of the water into the sink. “I have questions.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Aspen
GOLD MAY GLITTER, BUT BRASS MATTERS
Everything aches with a delicious soreness that only comes after you do—multiple times. As much as I wanted to curl into Fox’s warm, spent, scarred body after his first time, I knew we wouldn’t get the moment of intimacy he deserved. Unless he craved a Jenga pile of heavy, hairy limbs, because then yes—tick! All four of us shared an incredible moment of intimacy, and that’s how we fell like toppled sequoias after lightning strikes, lying like silent forest sentries.
“Did you contact Eli?”
“I did. He’s organizing a helicopter; it might take a couple of hours.”
“We can’t hike back out?”
“With the recent hail and snow already on the ground, it’s far too dangerous. This cabin is over eight miles from campus.”
“Eight miles?” Luk balks. “I guess we are a fair way in,” he whistles low.
My pulse thunders. I’m certain they can see it moving underneath my skin. “I’m sorry I dragged you all out here. But I’m not sorry I’m here, and I don’t regret one second of last night… and this morning. I guess we lost track of time there, and that’s okay too.”
The coffee is terrible, but it’s hot, and gives me something to hold and occupy my hand with, if not my thoughts. The other one fiddles with my mom’s pendant, my nail tracing the groove where the locket opens, not that it’s been opened for a long time. Inside, there is a photo of my mother in her early twenties; similar to me now. On the other side are a set of numbers commemorating the date of my parents’ first date; I think it is. Over time, the details have become fuzzy and aged, like the dulling of the gold’s gleam, now a faded metallic hint of previous luster.
“Lukaz Vaskari.”
“Yes!” His head snaps up.
“Russian knapweed. Rhaponticum repens. Are you my Larcher?”
He swallows thickly, a smile overtaking his gorgeous face. “Yes, little tree. I am.”
“Russian… You said something in Russian, and I know Vaskari has roots somewhere. But why a weed?”
“Because I’m everywhere, baby!”
“Thank you for your gift.”
His lips met the back of my hand where the skin is soft and almost translucent. He presses a kiss, a brief contact that is over before it begins.
“I’m supposed to identify the specimen and approach a potential Larcher but, fuck me. This is hard, and I don’t quite know how to ask this. Bear with me while I flout the damn rules and blurt it out.”
Jackson stills, his eyes on Fox, before tracking back to mine.
“Fox, I’m going with the willow. Salix lasiolepis, was that you?”
His eyes soften, the skin around his eyes gentling enough to welcome his smile. God, he’s so fucking sexy.
“I remember the silver lighter. You were distant from the other three, which was another giveaway, a hint to your shyness, if you will. You never have to be shy around me, baby. I love who you are. Your scars don’t scare me away. They drew me in. Chapters of a story you didn’t write but survived to come out stronger. Your voice is the strongest one of all.” My voice falters. “Thank you for your gift.”
His powerful arms encircle my shoulders, his chin resting on my shoulder. Fox likes to inhale me, as if I’m a vapor and not a real, living person to hold. Once his olfactory senses are satisfied, he relaxes enough into the reality of flesh and bone, of character and promise. Of him and me.
The doctor is a puzzle piece I’m not sure fits, nor where. If Luk is my edge pieces, and Fox the middle, what about Jackson Bonner? Is he the box the puzzle came in? And Elijah. He doesn’t feel like part of the puzzle; he is a unique challenge.
“Jackson?”
