Brothers of Paradise Series

“You always spoke about Yale,” I murmur. “It’s your dad’s alma mater.”

She rolls her eyes. “Not you, too. Have you and my dad finally begun to see eye-to-eye?”

“Sometimes we do,” I say. When it comes to her and her happiness, I figure we might be on the same page entirely. And in this regard, I know I’m not a part of the calculation.

She senses my hesitation. With a small sigh, she leans her head against my shoulder as I tighten my grip around her thigh. Lily has never been closer to me than she is now, with no brothers around, just the two of us together on the beach without secrets or pretensions.

But she has never been more out of reach.

“It’s just a thought so far,” she murmurs. “We can talk about it more later.”

Her voice might be soft, but I can hear steel lacing her words. She would go to the mat for this if she had to. Fight with her parents over this. Turn down her legacy and an opportunity that kids like me didn’t even dare to dream of.

For me.

And fuck if that didn’t terrify me.

“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s talk about it more later.”

There’s no sound but her soft breathing and the waves gently crashing against the beach. I’m so used to the smell of salt by now that I barely register it anymore, but it suddenly hits me with the same force it had the first time. The sound of the ocean has become home, even if I’d never meant it to. Somewhere along the line I had forgotten that I wasn’t from here.

I’d forgotten who I was, and suddenly I can’t stay here for even a second longer, or it would tear me apart.

“Come on,” I say and grab her hand. “Let’s go.”

She smiles at me as I pull her into standing. “Where to?”

“Somewhere. Anywhere. Away.”

Lily pulls my hoodie tighter around her. Her eyes search mine, and I don’t know what she sees in me, or if she realizes just how close to the edge I am in that moment-that there’s a storm inside me that I need to let out or it would drive me mad entirely-but she just nods.

“Okay.” There’s a smile as dazzling as the night sky on her lips and trust in her gaze. “Let’s go, Hay.”

Lily

The present

The first thing I think is, This must have cost him a fortune.

The second thing is, He got me pastels. I haven’t painted with pastels in forever.

The third thing is less complimentary. How dare he?

I carry the giant basket inside and put it on my dining-room table. It’s filled to the brim with the very best supplies a girl can ask for. It’s with shaking hands that I pull out a jar of gesso, and I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face at the packet of charcoal crayons. It’s been over a year since I did this-since I painted just for fun. Looking at these supplies, at the millions of possibilities… it does something to me. Tightens my chest and opens my heart. Dangerous, dangerous.

There’s a note, too. His handwriting has improved, compared to the ten-year-old letter.

Sorry for the other night.

Let’s give friendship another try.

I promise I’ll behave. -Hay

Friendship. He comes back out of the blue, not a call or a text in ten years. He goes out of his way to be at events I’m at, fixing my damn gate without my permission. He tells me he’s sorry for leaving and asks for friendship.

Okay. All right.

I can handle that.

But I can’t handle him asking me, in that deep voice of his, whether or not I missed him while he was away. I can’t handle Hayden kissing me like he’s afraid I’m going to break, like I’m all he’s ever wanted, like he wants to start something anew. It wasn’t a kiss for old time’s sake-it was a make-up kiss. A start-things-again-kiss.

My hands clamp into fists of their own accord. How dare he.

I’d worked so hard to get over him. So hard to ignore the painful beat of my heart when I thought of him, the constant comparison when I was around other men.

Why did he still have the cone shell?

I’d seen it on his mantlepiece. A large cone shell with a delicately painted landscape on it. A blazing sunset cast against trees, a full moon. I’d made it for his fourteenth birthday. I knew that if I turned it around, on the inside of the shell, I’d see the scruffy handwriting that thirteen-year-old me had worked so hard to perfect. To Hay, love LilsTêxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

He’d kept it.

He’d even brought it with him to his rental-a house so clinically decorated that it practically screamed bachelor pad.

Why?

I pick up the big basket and carry it to my guest room. I put it on the bed and close the door behind me. Until I figure out what to do with Hayden, I won’t use a thing. I don’t want his gifts until they come with a proper explanation-or when I’ve decided I can live without one.

As it so happens, I might just be able to get one tonight.

My mother likes Friday night dinners. It had been a standing routine growing up. On Friday night, at seven o’clock, she’d serve some amazing dish in the main dining room. In the summers, we would barbecue on the porch and Dad would handle the grill. Sometimes we ate roasted lobster, giggling as we waved the claws around, pretending to fight one another.

Being back in Paradise Shores meant going to Mom’s Friday night dinners, as often as possible, or suffer her wrath.

Sometimes it was just the family, but more often than not there were plenty of people. Friends of my parents were invited to join, as was the extended family. Sometimes the neighbors. Growing up, Hayden was often there, especially if he’d already been playing with my brothers beforehand.

After the argument I’d had with Mom-after she hid that letter for ten years-I hadn’t planned on going this Friday. But then she told me she had invited both Gary and his nephew. For old time’s sake, she had written in the text, but I recognized it as an attempt at an apology.

She’s trying to make amends.

And while I don’t forgive her… I also don’t want to pass up on the opportunity. When I arrive at the family house, my parents’ driveway is already filled with cars. I recognize the black Mercedes that Hayden’s currently driving. Parker’s Jeep is there too. I’m the last to arrive.

They’re out on the porch and I hear the sounds of laughter and ice against glass. Parker spots me first. He has his sunglasses on, sitting on the settee, a beer in his hand.

“Finally!”

I shake my head right back at him and head to the barbecue. My dad is focused on the steaks, a look of supreme confidence on his face. He treats everything in life like he does his business deals. “I’m only five minutes late.”

“Sure, sure,” Parker says.