Текст книги "Rock"

Автор книги: Anyta Sunday

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out together. Before we know it, he’ll be home for Christmas.”

* * *

Come Christmas holidays, Annie, Darren, Bert, Ernie, and I are in Auckland to see Fat Freddy’s

Drop. I can barely concentrate on enjoying the music, knowing Jace is arriving in Wellington. I jump to

the beat, banging into Darren and Ernie on either side of me. When it’s half over, I sneak into the

bathroom and call Dad’s landline. Lila answers. “Yes, he’s arrived!”

“All safe?”

“Yes, safe. A friend of his is staying for a couple of nights too. I’ve set up Annie’s old room for

him. She’ll be staying in her flat when you guys get home, right?”

“Yeah.” It sucks to have missed Jace’s arrival but maybe it’s for the best. Maybe it’ll show him that

his lack of contact hasn’t hurt me at all.

Not at all.

Someone bangs on the door of my stall and tells me to hurry up. I flip him the bird as I wrap up the

conversation and head back to the dance floor. The music scorches the air and makes me forget about

reality for a few hours.

Afterwards, we take a bus to the beach close to our hotel. The sky is navy, streaked with purple

rivulets, the last goodbye of today’s sun. The cool sand is a pleasant contrast to the humid air, and the

crashing waves mesmerize me with their glowing white tips. Annie and Darren are comparing thoughts

about the concert—he liked it more than she did. He’s trying to convince her she really loved it, and

Annie is laughing against his chest. I smile and veer off to the water.

I’ve just taken my shoes off when Ernie bounds over. Bert is sitting on a piece of driftwood doing

something on his phone.

“So,” he says.

“So.”

He shrugs and gets to it. “You’ve been distant this year.”

No point in lying about it now. “A bit, yeah.”

“We’ve been worried.”

“I’m good. I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Sweet.” He takes off his shoes and wades into the water with me. “We hope that you’re

going to be okay next year without us to keep you in check.”

I laugh. “Yeah, thanks for keeping it real.”

We stop walking, and our feet sink into the sand as the tide pulls out. “You’ve made me a better

person, Coop. I never would have lifted a finger or done anything at school without your help. I might

have laughed it off but it was really cool of you, man. Bert will never say it, but he loved that you

watched his games even though rugby isn’t your thing. You’re solid, dude.”

I don’t know what to say. “You were both there for me too.”

Another wave pulls the sand under our feet.

“I’m about sapped out.” Ernie jerks a thumb toward the others. “Shall we?”

He moves to leave, and I snatch him back into a hug. The next wave catches us at the backs of our

knees, soaking the pants we’d rolled up. We thump each other between the shoulder blades three times

and break apart.

lapis lazuli

As soon as our plane lands in Wellington, I beeline to the hatchback in long-term parking. Darren is

dropping Annie off, and I’m stuck with Bert and Ernie, who are racing to keep up with me.

“Dude, what’s the rush?”

“Nothing. Just want to get home.”

Ernie slaps my shoulder. “You’re kidding, right?” Ernie says this lightly, but he’s been quieter

today, sort of mellow, and I know he’s thinking of Bert going to Auckland and me to Dunedin, leaving

him here. “You can’t leave us. We have a whole evening of drinking and debauchery planned.”

“While that sounds positively awesome,” I say, moving the seat forward to let Ernie in, “I’m going

to pass.”

“But—”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Bert grumbles, shrugs.

“Promise.”

That gets a small grin. “Next time we get together, it’d better be epic. Something to remember.”

I drop them both at Ernie’s and beat every traffic light home under the red evening sun. The inside

of the house is illuminated but Dad and Lila’s car isn’t in the garage. I pull in, too excited to bother

searching for a parking spot.

Okay, this is it. Nonchalance does it.

I run a hand through my hair and flatten my Radio One T-shirt. In my jean’s pocket is a smooth,

bottle-brown stone I found at Auckland harbor that morning.

I’m ready. At least, I will be ready as soon as my heart stops bashing my ribs.

What will Jace look like? Will he have filled out more? Will his hair be short, messy, untamed?

Will he smile when he sees me? Will he forget everyone else?

Deep breath. One step at a time.

I race inside, throwing my keys onto the shelf by the garage door.

Jace could be out, I suppose. Out for dinner and forgot to switch off—

A creak from upstairs.

Jace!

I don’t care that it’s been weird between us for six long months. I’m going to crush him into a hug

because dammit, I have missed him.

I take the steps two at a time and walk slowly down the hall. It won’t look good to surprise him

while puffing. The nerves! I pause for a moment to take a deep breath.

The hallway drags forever. Another creak beckons me to Jace’s room. I pass the gaming room and

the broom closet, trailing my fingers over the wall.

Dickweed, I’ll tell him, you should have called.

And then I’ll launch into the hug.

His bedroom door is closed, so I squeeze the cool handle as though it’s one of my rocks. It instantly

cuts through a blurred year, and unexpectedly, everything appears brighter, harder, colder. Even the air

tastes sweeter.

I slowly push open the door—

Jace is sitting on the end of his bed, chin lifted, lips parted, his profile glowing amber in the

evening sun. His T-shirt is bunched in one hand, and he’s fumbling with the greenstone hook at his chest

with the other.

I smile, fully prepared to race in and tackle him down to the—

He’s not alone.

A mop of blond hair swirls vigorously in his lap.

The blur rushes back over me like thick fog. I wish it were thicker.

The guy with the mop of blond is on his knees sucking forcefully at Jace’s cock. The bed creaks as

Jace flexes deeper into his mouth. He lets the T-shirt go and threads his fingers around the guy’s hair,

then manually guides the depth and pace of his thrusts. The sucking and slurping is so fucking loud.

How did I not hear it? How do they not fucking see me rooted in the doorway?

Jace moans and shuts his eyes. Blond Mop works faster, faster, faster—

Jace pushes the guy off him and comes in his hand.

I find the strength in my legs to silently shuffle backward to my room. The open door will be Jace’s

only clue.

I shut my door quietly behind me. I pull out the beach stone from Auckland. Just a regular stone.

One of a million. I should never have gone into his room with just this. I should have had a piece of

lapis lazuli—rich blue, the color of his eyes. A stone said to offer protection; a stone believed to foretell

love that would be forever faithful.

With that in my pocket, I would have gone into Jace’s room and left satisfied.

I speed-dial Ernie.

“About that debauchery—I’ve changed my mind. I’m in.”

* * *

Bert and Ernie down a third shot of Tequila. I’m only on my second, but I’m halfway drunk

already. The music rings obnoxiously in my ears and makes it impossible to think. I love it.

I don’t want to think. I want to—

I throw back my shot, hop off the barstool, and sink into the crowd. The sweaty air smells of beer

and citrus, threatening the nice buzz I have. It’s the wrong kind of citrus. Too sour.

Dance!

The night becomes a blur of color, smiles, and whispers that coax me closer to some guy who is

eye-fucking me from across the room. I saunter up and sway against him. His hands fumble under my

shirt and over my back. He presses me against his stiff cock.

I shut my eyes against the image of Jace, head thrown back, moaning—

I slide my hand into my pocket and remove the stone. I drop it onto the dance floor and rub myself

harder against my dance partner, who doesn’t smell or feel like Jace, which is what I need. Make me

forget. “What’s your name?”

“Daniel.” Doesn’t sound like Jace, either. “Yours?”

I kick the stone as far away from us as possible. “Cooper.”

marble

I wake at midday to the distant sound of yelling and laughing. My head pounds and my mouth is

dry, tongue glued to the roof. I throw on a T-shirt and shorts before I hunt in the kitchen for water and a

magic cure for hangovers.

I drink three glasses of water and take a pain killer.

Why do people think alcohol is fun?

Never again.

I rub my tender temples, moaning under my breath. My head feels like I’ve been bashing it against

the marble counter.

I’m not proud. No matter how much I wanted to cut through the fog, going back to Daniel’s place

had been a mistake.

But at least I’m not a virgin anymore.

Flashes of my cock pushing into his ass while he moaned and begged make me blush again. I fling

open the cupboard—any cupboard that will shield me from Lila.

Can’t shield you from what happened, though.

Dizziness and shame war for dominance. I pull out a fresh cup and turn to the sink. Movement

flutters outside the windows. Over the tier curtains, I observe Dad, Jace, and Blond Mop kicking around

a soccer ball.

Lila slithers up to my side with the water jug and fills my cup with water.

“Jace missed you last night.”

Somehow I doubt that.

“We came home with enough takeout to feed an army. Annie texted Dad and said you were on your

way home and that she was going back to her flat. Said she’ll come by tonight.”

I finally draw away from the view of Dad juggling the ball and Jace copying him. “Bert and Ernie

wanted us to hang.”

The tea kettle whistles. I grab Annie’s stash of green tea and force a spoonful into filter bags.

I feel justified and dirty at the same time.

Dirty.

I shiver. Despite showering for an hour, the bad memory from last night lingers.

Turn around. So I don’t have to see your face. So I can imagine you’re him.

I switch off the tea kettle and pour water over the tea leaves. We sit at the dining table, sipping.

It doesn’t cleanse me as I hoped it would.

The back door bursts open and Dad strolls into the kitchen. “Cooper!” he says. “Brilliant, you can

even up the teams. Get your shoes on.”

“Nah, I don’t feel like playing.”

“Just half an hour. It’ll be fun. You and your dad against Jace and Samuel.”

Samuel.

I stare at a leaf floating in the last dregs of tea.

Dad will announce that I’m back home. I will have to face Jace and Samuel eventually—and rather

than let Jace wonder why I refuse to come out now and say hello, I could have the upper hand. I could

go out there and pretend like nothing matters. Like Jace and his friend are the last things on my mind.

All—thrust—I—thrust—Want—thrust—Is—thrust—You, Jace.

Jace? Who’s Jace?

Heat floods every pore and I drink the last of my tea, leaf and all. “Okay.” I pad toward the back

door and slip on a pair of sneakers. They feel strange over bare feet but at this point, what doesn’t?

I push through the back door and brusquely walk to Jace, who is standing with his back to me.

Samuel sees me first but before Jace can turn, I throw an arm around him and thump his chest, right

where the hook is. “Hey stranger,” I say into his ear.

His body tenses for a moment, and his muscles shift as he twists around and grabs me into a bear

hug. He holds me so tightly I can barely breathe, but my insides twist and tears prick at my eyes. True to

form, he smells faintly like oranges.

“Cooper,” he says against my neck. His words ooze hurt and regret, surprise and joy. The way he

clutches me says everything. I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I just didn’t know how to tell you I met someone

else. I didn’t know how to say I’ve moved on. But I’ve missed you, I have. You’re my friend. My brother.

I break away from the hug, struggling to hold myself together. I summon every ounce of willpower

to extend a hand to Samuel.

He’s shorter than Jace and I, and I’m happy about this. “Samuel,” he says. “Jace’s . . . friend.”

Samuel’s gaze flashes nervously to Jace’s, and I follow it.

Jace swallows. He knows I’m staring at him but he won’t look over.

Dad kicks the soccer ball into our midst and joins us. “Cooper and I against you Otago boys.”

We play, and despite the hangover, I kick and weave and score in earnest. No one can stop me

because I can’t let them. Won’t let them.

After twenty minutes, Dad calls for a break. I juggle the ball in the corner of the field as I let them

catch their breath. Jace moves close to Samuel and says something in his ear while rubbing his upper

arm. He breaks away and jogs over to me.

I keep juggling. Three, four, five, six—header—seven, eight—

“I know what you’re thinking, but don’t do it, okay?” Jace whispers.

I catch the ball and hold it under my arm. “Don’t do what?” My glare drifts over to Samuel, who’s

making my dad laugh.

Jace steps closer, chuckling and shaking his head. “I see it on your face. The way you look at him.”

He pries the ball from me. “You want to kick this ball in his face just like you did to me.”

“I saw you two,” I say.

He stills and mutters, “The door. That was you then?”

“Do you love him?”

A sigh. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. “Told the folks you’re gay yet?”

“Bisexual, and yes, that kind of came up last night.”

I don’t bother to ask if they took it well. Of course they did.

Boyfriend.

“How long?”

“Since before winter but we were mates for a bit first.”

“How did you meet?”

He quiets, then says, “Kepler Track. A mate invited him along on our hike.”

I’m shaking as I recall his words: This stone made sleeping impossible. It kept digging into my

back, so I snuck out of the tent in the middle of the night, lifted the pegs, and pulled it out. Still couldn’t

sleep, though. After that, all I could think about was rocks.

Was it really the stone that interrupted his sleep?

“Kepler Track,” I repeat. I walk backward, blindly moving toward the house.

“Just a second,” Jace calls out to Dad and Samuel as he chases after me.

I run up the stairs before he can stop me, but I’m not fast enough to slam the door in his face.

He pushes in and I ignore him, fishing for my damn phone.

I scroll through my contacts until I find last night’s mistake. On the third ring, “Daniel here.”

“Hey, Daniel, Cooper here. Wanted to see how you’re doing.”

He murmurs. “Good. Real good.”

“Last night was—good for me too. We should do it again some time.”

“Sounds goo—”

Jace smacks the phone out of my hand. It hits the floor so hard the screen cracks. Before I can

chase after the call, Jace spins me around. His jaw is clenched and his gaze is livid.

“What are you doing?”

“Same thing you are.”

“Not the same thing. I know Samuel.”

Samuel, not Sam? “You’ve no idea how well I know Daniel—”

“You should’ve held out until you found someone you care about!”

“You care about Samuel?”

I realize I’ve been clinging to the hope that their relationship is only about sex. But he actually

cares?

I turn so he doesn’t see the traitorous tear running down my cheek.

“Well, I mean, yeah, he’s a good guy.”

I nod and pick up my phone, which mirrors my cracked reflection. Fitting.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he continues as I slouch on the side of my bed. “But I had to make

those feelings go away.” You want to have normal ones, not about your maybe brother.

“I don’t care,” I say.

Jace rocks on his heels. Hesitates. Whispers, “I do.”

moreaki boulders

I opt to stay in Wellington after all, accepting a position at Vic. Part of the way through the second

year of my undergraduate studies, Jace performs as pianist in a ballet accompaniment. Dad and Lila fly

to the opening show, and though I’m not invited, I take the hatchback over on the ferry and drive down

to Dunedin.

I don’t announce my presence.

All the affordable tickets are sold out, so I fork out a chunk of my savings for a seat far too close to

where Jace is playing.

I slip on sunglasses and sink into my seat until the lights dim and the ballet begins. I focus on the

music and Jace with his back to me, his fingers dancing over the keys and mesmerizing me. Dressed in

a suit with tails, he takes me back to Newtown High and the dance we shared. Only now Jace fills his

suit better, and he’s grown into a man.

What wouldn’t I give to dance with this man?

First, though, we’d need to be on speaking terms. At least, more than the generic fluff. Merry

Christmas. Happy New Year. Is Mum around? Tell Dad happy birthday. Happy New Year. Happy

twentieth, Jace.

Happy nineteenth, Cooper.

No, there’ll be no dancing anytime soon.

Still, this is his biggest recital. I wouldn’t miss it for all the money in the world.

During intermission, his face splits into a grin when he spots his parents. Behind my shades, I

follow his gaze. Lila, Dad, and a young woman in a sleek navy dress with raven hair to match. She

smiles a seductive smile back at Jace, as though she’s promising to do secretive things to him when the

curtain closes.

In my mind, I hear Jace over Skype telling Lila and Dad about her. Natalie’s a singer, her voice is . .

. impossible. She’s beautiful, I hope for you to meet her.

She’s my opposite in every way: female, petite, dark features, and a talent for music I will never

have.

My spirits sink, but I’m well-accustomed to being hurt by Jace’s boyfriends and girlfriends.

The lights dim and the ballet begins again. The music soothes the remnants of my old heartaches.

The only thing I can do is smile and clap bloody hard for how beautifully Jace played.

I slink out of the audience before anyone spots me.

At the crack of dawn the next morning, I begin the drive back home, stopping at the Moeraki

Boulders. The seaweed-tasting air has a cool bite as it whips sand against the beach’s boulders. A few

tourists take pictures of the fifty-six-million-year-old rocks, but I head over to lean against a smaller

boulder.

The cool rock hums over my skin like it’s sharing its memories.

I’ve borne witness to pain. I’ve seen canoes tip and people drown. I’ve collected the tears of a

thousand men who have leaned against me and cried like you do. I’ve borne witness to joy—

celebrations and laughter that echoed off me and settled onto my boulder brothers. Laughs that still

vibrate under the surface.

I’ve existed since before myth and legend, long enough to become one. Did you know the Maori

believed us to be remains of their eel baskets and sweet potatoes that washed ashore during the wreck of

a large sailing canoe?

I’m a rock. The closest thing to eternal.

An anthology of stories that never end.

I smile and trace my name over its surface. Then his.

The tide sweeps in around us as if to soak up my story and run away. I envision it out there being

tossed up onto the rocky surface.

Has our story ended? If so, will it sink to the bottom of the ocean, near the aquamarines that

mermaids treasure? Or will heavy breezes whip it through the sky, carrying it over every surface

because it’s not finished yet?

An eerie shiver follows me as I make my way back to the hatchback and continue my way to

Wellington.

In a rural, coastal stretch between Christchurch and Picton, the hatchback splutters and dies. I view

this annoying incident as my answer—confirmation my story has sunk.

I call roadside help, and they tow the dead car to Kaikoura, a small town.

Long story short, she’s not worth starting again.

I say my goodbyes and start trekking down the main road, thumb out, looking for a ride. Five cars

pass before one slows down and flashes its lights at me. I jog over pebbles—pick a small one up—and

slide into the silver car.

The driver is wearing board shorts and a Flight of the Conchords T-shirt. His crooked smile reveals

a slight gap between his front teeth. Five or so years older than me, I’d guess.

His brown eyes are warm but slightly nervous.

I shake his hand. “Cooper. My car died, and I’d love to get up toward Picton.”

He grins. “Zach. And it just so happens I’m taking the ferry there to Wellington.”

emerald

Christmas, and Zach and I have been dating for months now. I want to surprise Annie with a

beautiful kauri rocking chair I found at a warehouse out in Petone. It cost a fortune, but since Annie was

moving into a single apartment and had just landed a job as a school counselor, I really wanted to get

her something special.

Zach drives me and the chair, strapped into the trunk, to Annie’s new apartment on Christmas

morning. He yawns and shakes his head. “Why so early?”

“Because she woke me at six on my birthday. It’s time for payback.”

Zach mumbles something about getting me back for getting him up so early, and I promise I’ll

make it up to him later. He perks up and grins.

I laugh, leaning over to kiss his stubbly cheek. “Merry Christmas, Zach.”

As soon as we arrive at Annie’s, Zach parks the car, races around to my side and pulls me out. He

nips my lips and kisses me against the car door. “You taste like peppermint,” he says as I pull a halfeaten

candy cane out of my pocket.

He laughs and pilfers it. The beast.

We carry the chair up the steep incline to the small, one-bedroom house overlooking the bush and a

wedge of ocean. I leave the chair at the front door with Zach and sneak off around the house to Annie’s

bedroom.

Her window is partially open, and I’m about to cry out Merry Christmas and swing inside when I

hear a guy laugh and say, “Here. This is for you. Merry Christmas.”

I freeze. I recognize his voice.

“You didn’t have to,” Annie says. A long beat, then—

“Do you like them?”

“I love them. I love you—”

We gasp at the same time. Footsteps stomp across the floorboards and the curtains are flung open. I

am face to face with Ernie.

His face pales but he keeps his head high. Annie pushes open the window and glares at me. A long

pair of emerald earrings glimmer in the morning light, making her eyes brighter.

“I came to surprise you,” I say slowly. “Turns out you beat me to it again, Annie. What’s going

on?”

My attention narrows to Ernie and the thin pair of boxers he’s wearing.

“I’m in love with her. I’m in love with Annie.”

Annie blushes and smiles coyly at their feet before leaning over and kissing his cheek just the way I

did with Zach.

Ernie brushes her hair over her shoulders. “Maybe it’s time to tell your brother?”

She laughs and gestures to me. “Come to the front, we’ll let you in.”

Ernie has changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top when he and Annie open the door and let me,

Zach, and the chair inside the dining room.

Annie coos over the chair until I start tapping my foot. Zach comes up behind me, wraps his arms

around my waist and tells me to take a breath. Love is a wonderful feeling.

I relax against him, but I wonder if Zach is growing impatient with my excuses not to say I love

you.

I block out the worry and concentrate instead on Ernie, who is nervously preparing some tea.

“How long?” I ask.

Annie answers, “A year.”

A whole year? My closest friend and my sister?

“Longer, Annie,” Ernie says. “And you know it.”

She rocks in her new chair. “It grew slowly, I don’t know how long it’s been going on but it’s a year

since we—”

“I don’t need to know all the details.”

Ernie laughs. “Fine. I’ve been smitten with your sister from the first time I saw her.”

Smitten? The word sounds foreign coming from Ernie’s mouth. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Dude. She’s your sister. Be weird if I told you how much she turns me on and that every day I

wank—”

And there’s the Ernie I know. “I pray to God you don’t finish that sentence.”

Annie stifles a giggle.

“I get it. You didn’t tell me you had a crush on her.” I shake my head at Annie. “How on earth did

you fall for this guy?”

I love Ernie, I do, but there’s a degree of stupid that people shouldn’t overlook.

Annie stops rocking. “Actions speak louder than words. Ernie shows me every day how much he

cares. It started when he danced with you at Newtown High.”

“You fell for him all the way back then? I thought you liked Darren?”

“I did like Darren back then.”

“Good things take time,” Ernie says, handing me a cup of tea. “I’m a good thing.”

Annie grins. “Took me a while to figure it out.”

“I hated when you hooked up with Darren,” Ernie says, twisting a chair from the table and

straddling it. “Bert and Cooper joined in my grief that day in the form of debauchery. Never been so

drunk in my life.”

How did I not recognize Ernie was suffering as much as I was that fateful day? I pull out a chair

and slump onto it. “I’m sorry, Ernie. I didn’t know.”

“You had your own problems. We all did.”

Zach stands behind me, rubbing my shoulders. I tilt my head back and smile at him. He leans down

and kisses me. For a second, it’s almost enough and I’m close to something like love for him. Maybe if I

wait long enough, it will grow on me like it did with my sister and Ernie.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I ask, lifting my tea and taking a sip. The liquid is warm but

hasn’t been boiled.

He makes her tea the way she likes it.

“Because—”

“Because I was afraid you would turn her away from me,” Ernie says. “I say stupid things

sometimes, and you know all the shit I’ve done. How could you take me seriously? How could you see

past those parts to the real ones? I love Annie, and I’m scared one day she’ll see how much more

amazing she is than me. As selfish as it might’ve been, I didn’t want you to give her a head start.”

I take another sip of tea.

I stand and lean down to hug Annie. I breathe in the soapy scent of her hair, and I flinch at her cold

earring against my cheek.

Emeralds. Ernie’s birthstone. Ernie walks into view and I hold his nervous stare. “They say so long

as the friendship is true, emeralds will stay in one piece. I hope yours never break, Annie.”

She nods, chin banging against my shoulder. “They won’t. I won’t let them.”

serpentinite

I bring Zach home to Mum’s for my twentieth. This is the first time they’ve met, and Zach is taking

it all in stride. Why have I waited so long to show him off?

He leans back in his chair, the brown of his T-shirt complementary against the dark wood. He fits at

this table, fits in conversation with Mum and Paul, jokes casually with Ernie, and listens carefully to

Annie. He fits here, and he should fit with me too.

I grab his hand under the table and rub my thumb in circles at his wrist.

Paul refills Mum’s teacup. Their gazes catch, and with the orange sun streaming through the

skylight, the scene glistens and shines like well-polished crystal.

“Zach,” Mum says, smiling widely as she focuses on him, “you’re a social worker?”

Zach squeezes me and gently pries his fingers free. He rests his arms on the table as he nods. Half

of him is in a square of light that makes his arm hair glisten gold. “Yes, I basically take care of kids in

bad situations.”

“That sounds like a tough job.”

I’ve seen Zach so emotionally drained from a day’s work that he doesn’t have enough energy to do

anything but sleep. He’s strong¸ though. Persevering through the hard shit and the threats he gets on a

weekly basis. For the kids, he says.

Zach takes a sip of tea. “It’s tough, and sometimes it feels useless. I like that we run family

conferences and care and protection meetings, but sometimes it’s not enough. Then we have to move

the kids.”

“Difficult. Do you keep in contact with the kids you help once they’re placed in care?”

“For a while, to make sure everything is running smoothly. But eventually I move on. Though I

make sure the kids always know they can call me.”

Zach’s arms have broken out in goosebumps, reminding me of last week when Zach brought up one

of his toughest cases. His first. We were in my flat, alone, thanks to my flatmates skipping off to the

Waiarapa for the weekend. After making us dinner, I found him leaning forward on the couch, elbows

on his knees as he scrubbed his face.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” He stares at his phone on the coffee table. “Just got a message from someone I helped out

a couple of years ago.”

“A kid? Are they okay?”

He shrugs. “I have no idea. It didn’t say much. Might have been sent accidentally.”

“Do you have to call and check?”

“No, he’s nineteen. He’ll make his own way in the world.”

I set the dinner on the coffee table. “You helped him when he was seventeen? I thought—”

“Yes, no, I helped his younger brother. Hamish took his brother away from their abusive parents to

protect him, but things got bad when their parents discovered them.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

Zach’s laugh startles me back to my birthday breakfast, and I blink at the untouched pancakes on

my plate.

“I love to surf,” Zach says. “It’s a great way of purging tension.” He kisses my cheek. “I’m going to

teach this one a few tricks this summer.”

Annie leans over to Ernie. “You should get lessons too.”

The doorbell rings.

After a few moments, Mum comes back. “Cooper, a visitor for you.”

I push back my chair and wander toward the front door. Standing at the threshold, morning light

framed behind him, is Jace. He has his hands shoved into his pockets, and he’s turned away from the

house, staring out at the wild garden as he waits.

I breathe in a nectar-scented breeze. “Jace?” I say quietly.

He turns slowly. His gaze is guarded but as he takes me in, a slow grin warms his face. His eyes

glitter brightly—the first I’ve seen since forever ago.

“Cooper,” he says softly.

“What are you doing here?” The wooden floorboards cool the soles of my feet, helping to ground

me.

He stammers and has to take a deep breath. He tries again. “Happy birthday, Jace. Happy birthday,

Cooper. Merry Christmas—when did that happen? After our one-minute call on my birthday, I couldn’t

stop thinking about how we used to talk for hours. I want—I wish—”

Footsteps bang down the hall, followed by voices—my sister and Zach. She’s telling him about

some embarrassing photos of me that he’ll love.

“Oh, wait. Jace?” Annie’s steps approach faster, and Zach is nearing too. “Hey, I didn’t know you

were coming home.” Wellington, she means.

“Just for the weekend,” Jace says, glancing curiously at the other man coming up behind me. “I had

something I wanted to do.” His gaze lands on mine, and he pulls something from his pocket.

I take it and smile. A gift. It’s small, hard and heavy.

Jace smiles too. “Happy—”

Zach wraps his arm around my neck, sliding close to me, and extends his other hand. “You’re the

brother, right?”

I wince.

It’s subtle but Jace reels back. His now-stiff smile solidifies on his face, as if it’s taking everything