as though he’s a piece of meat. I’ve nursed my battered heart time and time again as I watched him go out on dates with undeserving girls—just waiting, hoping, and praying he’d eventually take notice of me.
Sadly, he never did.
A few months after he turned eighteen, he left town for work, and I was sure I’d never see him again. Without having him in town, I felt the suffocating weight of my homelife creep in on me. I didn’t have anything to look forward to anymore with him gone. I didn’t have anything to distract me from the constant fights and bickering. There was only so much tension a teen could handle. I felt like I was walking on eggshells every day, trying to do everything I could to keep things civil between my parents.
Half the time, it didn’t work.
Since my parents got in a huge fight about money last night, any thought of sharing cake or dinner at the table together for my birthday was out of the question. So instead, I told them I was going to hang out with some friends. I wasn’t really interested in the party everyone planned on going to tonight. I was more interested in the man who, I’d learned only a few days prior, was back home for a few weeks. Since we share a birthday, I know today Endymion is turning nineteen, and even though the years between us might be a cause for concern to some, I don’t think it matters. I’ve loved him since I was kid, and that won’t change anytime soon.
I’ve never been more sure of anything.
I spend most of the night looking for him at Seth Ferguson’s party, but he is nowhere to be found. Even though I just started at Dunsmuir High, and, normally, attending parties is a rite of passage, they aren’t exactly my scene. It’s too much chaos for a girl like me. I prefer to be at home curled up with a good book or outside, staring up at the moon.
I finally give up and decide to head home. And almost as though it was meant to be, as I am crossing the street on my way home, too busy staring up at the moon distractedly, I don’t notice the guy running in my path. An oompf of air escapes my lungs and echoes down the quiet street. When I glance up, all I’m able to process is the blood rushing through my veins and my heart pounding violently in my chest. It is like the organ is trying to break free at the sight of a sweaty Endymion.
He’s shirtless, his broad muscles on display, and it’s an impossible task not to stop and gawk at all the muscles, protruding veins, and the droplets of sweat rolling down each rivulet.
“Shit, sorry,” he breathes out, plucking a white earbud out of his ear. The music on his iPod must be on full blast because I can hear the strains of rock music screeching through the earbud, even from here. His hair is a drenched mess, the longer strands sticking to his damp forehead in these cute little swirls that have me itching to reach up and tuck them back.
“No, you’re fine. I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” I ramble, and instead of brushing past him and continuing on my way home, I stand there, still gawking at him as though he’s a Greek god. His brows suddenly dip, his face clouding with a frown as he glances around us.
“What are you doing over here? It’s not exactly safe to be walking home alone at night.”
My stomach does somersaults and backflips at the fact he cares about my well-being. Heat creeps up my neck and settles on my cheeks, but I force a nonchalant shrug, shifting on my feet.
“Nothing has ever happened before. Plus, I know everyone in the neighborhood. I only live a few more blocks away.”
He still looks uncomfortable with the thought of me walking on my own. And be still my little heart, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this giddy.
“Which way are you headed?” I point behind him, and he follows the trajectory of my finger and nods. “C’mon, I’d feel much better if I knew you got home safely.”
It’s a struggle to pull air into my lungs as I walk alongside End. His breathing is still heavy from his run, yet it’s controlled, much more controlled than mine would be if I went for a run.