larger boulder, and then from the lower rock, Emerson handed Sam the netting enclosing the butterflies.
“You ready?” Sam asked in a solemn tone, in stark contrast to how he’d sounded that morning. Maybe he wanted to wonder at their beauty for a little while longer as well.
“Wait.” Audrey’s voice was reverent. “I think Rhys should make a wish.”
Rhys arched an eyebrow, a smirk quirking his lips.
“What? The butterflies were for your birthday, so it only makes sense that you make another one.”
“Okay, fine.” Rhys motioned to Sam for the habitat. He looked inside at the flying creatures as he made a silent wish, piquing Emerson’s curiosity. But he had no right to ask. “Hello, little butterflies, you are quite a kaleidoscope of colors. Get it?”
Emerson snickered, and when Rhys turned his dazzling smile on him, it was as if the earth had moved under his feet. Little pinpricks of awareness lined his skin as he watched Rhys unzip the netting.
“Welcome to your new home,” he said as they watched the butterflies leave the enclosure one by one and fly around them in zigzag patterns, then into the warm sunshine.
Sam stretched his arms to the sky, trying to touch one, but they flew out of reach.
“Can we follow them?” he asked excitedly, pointing toward a copse of trees leading to the same scenic view they’d walked to their previous visit.
“I’ll go with you,” Audrey said, jumping down, then helping her brother. They ran toward the path.
Emerson watched them go, making sure they were safe, before turning to Rhys. His breath hitched in his throat. Rhys was in the same seated position on the boulder, his eyes closed, his elbows on his knees, his face turned toward the sky. The strong angle of his jaw glimmered in the sun, and his dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, creating the image of a marbleized Adonis.
A twin set of monarchs weaved above his head in a crisscross display, and Emerson could not take his eyes off him. The realization that he’d fallen for his best friend hit him like a physical blow. So overpowering, his knees felt wobbly. Rhys had become an essential part of his life, as central as the very air he breathed. And he didn’t know what the hell he’d ever do without him.
He must’ve made a little noise in his throat because Rhys’s eyes sprang open, his gaze snagging on Emerson’s for a long, drawn-out moment.
“What?” Rhys murmured.
“Nothing.” Emerson nearly stumbled backward but held his ground. “You just look so… Never mind.”
“Please, Em.” He made a frustrated sound. “I can’t take the silence between us. Just fucking tell me what you were thinking.”
He nodded, swallowing thickly. “I was gonna say you looked stunning sitting there with the sun glinting off your eyelashes. Peaceful too.”
Rhys shyly bit his lip and again held his gaze. Emerson felt like those butterflies were furiously flapping their wings against the sides of his stomach.
“Not sure peaceful is the right word.”
Guilt arose inside Emerson again. He nodded in understanding.
“Maybe at peace with my feelings would describe it better.”
Emerson’s stomach throbbed in response. This was it, when everything went to hell, and there would be no chance of patching his heart together this time around.
“Thing is, I took a chance on you—twice.” Rhys looked pointedly at him. “It was me who kissed you first. Two times in a row.”
Emerson nodded numbly. “You’ve always been braver than—”
“No!” he bit out, then took a shaky breath. “You’re the one who lost your parents just as you were heading off to college. And you gave it all up. All of it. To raise Audrey and Sam. That’s bravery.”
He felt the stinging of tears behind his eyes. He only did what he felt was right. He was no martyr. “There were plenty of times I resented having to raise them. Even resented you for being so free.”
Rhys swallowed roughly, shrugging. “I’ve definitely done things others have only dreamed of. All of that”—he motioned toward Hawkeye Hill—“was in my blood.”
Emerson glanced at the cliff in shadow behind him. “Are you still free?”
“Dunno. Maybe I’m like those butterflies. Everything in my life feels different, changed, and I was scared at first. Angry. But I’ve come to terms with it because I’ve gained other things that are way more important.”
“What other things?” Emerson asked tentatively, afraid of his answer.
“Family,” Rhys replied in a strong voice, but then it wavered a bit. “And more clarity about my best friend.”
He took a step forward. “Rhys—”
“Thing is…”