Текст книги "Adore Me "

Автор книги: Jillian Dodd

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Table Of Contents

Title page

Copyright page

Dedication

Author's note.

Wednesday, November 23rd

Thursday, November 24th

Friday, November 25th

Saturday, November 26th

Sunday, November 27th

Author's Note

Other Books by Jillian Dodd

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Jillian Dodd

adore me

The Keatyn Chronicles

Book 4.5

Bandit Publishing

Copyright 2013 by Jillian Dodd

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

If you are reading this book and have not purchased it or been gifted it through an online retailer, it has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the ebook from one of its many distributors.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Bandit Publishing

Flower Mound, TX

Edited by Rebecca Peters-Golden

Cover by Okay Creations

ISBN: 978-0-989-2109-7-3

This book is for 

Melissa and Mireya, the original KC Addicts.

This book series is a continuous series in that there is no recap of what happened earlier. 

This book starts the day the last one finished. 

If you haven’t read the first four books, you probably won’t know what’s going on. 

Click here to read book one: Stalk Me.

Click here to read book two: Kiss Me.

Click here to read book three: Date Me.

Click here to read book four: Love Me. 

When we last saw Keatyn, she was getting ready to leave for Thanksgiving break. Below are the last few lines of Love Me.

I throw a few things in my tote bag, give my friends the kind of hugs you give someone when you know you’re not going to see them again, say a few goodbyes, and, at a little after noon, I hop in my prearranged car for the quick trip to the airport. 

When I get to the airport, my jet is waiting for me on the tarmac. 

It’s such a welcome sight. 

My mom says when she goes to the spa in Palm Springs by herself that it’s good for her soul. And I know for sure that going on this trip by myself is going to be just that. 

Good for my soul. 

And I’m really looking forward to being completely by myself. No one to worry about but me. 

I can do whatever I want.

And I’m going to do it. 

I’ve even made a list. A miniature script of my vacation. 

Where I commune with nature. Eat fish I caught myself. Do yoga on the beach. Swim with the dolphins. Macramé myself a pair of sandals. Make a necklace out of shells. Write my name in the sand. Build a sand village. Drink milk from a coconut. Lie in the hammock and read. Collect fruit from the trees and make my own tropical smoothies. 

Make that spiked smoothies. 

Wander down the beach. 

Find a hot guy.

Shit. No. No guys. 

I remember Vanessa telling me that. How it’s expected.

But I’m not going to do that. 

I can’t do that. 

I can’t jump from one relationship to the next. 

I did that every time Brooklyn hurt me. 

Coming to Eastbrooke has been really good for me in so many ways.

I’m stronger. Smarter. Nicer. Tougher. Happier with myself.

I’m doing things that I love.

I know what I want to do with my life.

Last night I went over it from every different angle. 

Tried to imagine every different reaction.

How they would react if I told them.

How they would react if someone else told them.

But no matter how I try to spin it in my brain. 

The outcome is always the same. 

Our trust would be broken.

They’re all amazing. And I know they would understand why I had to lie.

What they won’t understand is why I didn’t trust them enough to tell them my secret.

That’s what will kill their trust.

And Aiden. 

I can’t even imagine how Aiden would react. 

He’d be crushed.

I’d be crushed.

And it would be ruined.

Vincent is like a massive natural disaster. A hurricane, a tornado, and an earthquake all rolled into one. 

And nothing can survive that.

Especially not Eastbrooke.

So I’m not going back.

I pull my wallet out of my bag to grab a tip for the driver. As I do, the glow-in-the dark moon tumbles onto my lap.

“What the hell?” I say, noticing for the first time that there’s writing on it. 

I flip it sideways and read.

Wednesday, November 23rd

Ruined my lips.

12:30pm

I re-read the moon in my hand.

While others may wish on a shooting star, it's the moon that holds my dreams afar.

I clutch it to my chest and take a deep breath while trying to figure out why Aiden would’ve written that.

I grab my phone, look up the quote on the internet, and get no hits.

Did he make it up?

My mind wanders to my own wish in the moonlight.

I shake my head. It can’t be.

And if Aiden really did make a wish on the moon then it’s official.

Fate is a cold-hearted bitch just like Aphrodite.

If Aiden truly was my fate, then fate would’ve allowed us to meet later in life.

Under different circumstances.

When I had gotten my life back, or when I had finally accepted that I’d never get it back.

A morbid thought flits through my brain. That I might not be here later in life.

A big part of me wants to turn the car around and go back to Eastbrooke.

I look at my phone and consider calling him. Consider reading all of his texts. Listening to all of his voicemails.

Asking him why he wrote on the moon.

But I can’t.

I have to deal with Vincent first. I have to get my life back. And after that, I promised to give B a chance.

I need to forget about Aiden. Put Eastbrooke and the friends I made there behind me.

My leaving is for the best. For everyone’s best.

I’m just not sure what’s best for me.

I've been mulling over a lot of options. I’ve considered moving to my loft, getting my GED, and starting NYU in the fall. But that would mean hanging out with Jake and Dawson. It would mean coming in contact with new people. People who I couldn’t make friends with.

I quickly ruled out that option.

Besides, I’m not going back to my loft.

I can’t.

I’m pretty sure Aiden ruined it, just like he ruined my lips. I’ll put it on the market and forget about it too.

I run my hand over my new four-leaf clover necklace and say a little prayer.

My phone rings, so I stop praying and answer with a polite hello.

“Miss Monroe, this is Edward at Jet Co-op. Before you board, don’t forget to stop in the office and sign the new paperwork.”

“I won’t,” I say. But, obviously, I had forgotten.

I hang up and ask the driver to run me back to the office.

I get out of the car and pull my sunglasses over my eyes, partially to block the light and partially because I'm a little freaked out to even go inside. I’m worried Vincent sent my photo to every airport in America.

I put myself into my role. I’m not Keatyn Douglas who’s being stalked. I'm Keatyn Monroe who’s just an Eastbrooke student.

Was an Eastbrooke student, I think, suddenly fighting back tears.

I’m looking at the office building, but in my mind I’m seeing the beauty that is Eastbrooke. The gorgeous trees. The old brick buildings. The commons. The people. I’m really going to miss everyone. I hate that I didn’t give them proper goodbyes. I hate that I did that to them. And most of all, I hate that I’m reliving this moment again.

I was stupid to go to Eastbrooke. Anyone in their right mind should’ve seen the potential problems.

But we weren’t really in our right minds when we made the decision. We were scared.

And I’m done being that way.

It’s time to take control of my life.

It’s time to fight back.

I take a deep breath and breeze into the office like I don’t have a care in the world.

“I’m Keatyn Monroe.” I shake Edward's hand and then review the contract for the many additional hours that I purchased on a whim a couple of days ago. That was when one of my options included me turning the tables on Vincent and stalking him.

I decided that might not be my smartest idea ever.

Besides, a new plan is starting to take root. Cooper and me on a farm in Iowa, way out in the country. Lots of acres where we can set up a firing range. A barn we can turn into a training facility. Maybe a few chickens, a cow, and a vegetable garden so that we would never have to leave. We could grow everything we eat.

Okay, maybe not. I don’t think I could kill a chicken.

Or a carrot.

I think I’d prefer to buy my food already dead.

I’ve thought about marrying Cooper. Going Amish.

Living out my life in hiding.

I’m also strongly considering faking my own death.

I’d hate to do that to my family but if I did, I could kill Vincent. My family wouldn’t have me, but they’d have their lives back. I could watch the girls grow up from afar.

Then, maybe I could become the CIA’s youngest operative. Cooper and I could travel the world and spy.

I bet he’d look damn hot in a tuxedo.

Oooh, I know. I’m going to watch Triple X on the plane.

Oh, the things I’m gonna to do for my country.

While Edward goes in the back to make a copy for my records, I hear two ladies at the next counter gossiping about who’s going to star in the next best-selling book turned movie.

One of them holds out a magazine. “Here, you can read this on your lunch break. Did you see the cover? I can't believe how scary skinny Abby Johnston has gotten. People think it's the stress of Tommy's affair.”

“I wouldn’t care what Tommy did as long as I could get a piece of that fine man. I’m not greedy. I’d be more than willing to share,” she says with a chuckle.

“You’re bad.”

“But honest,” she says as she wanders off with her lunch bag. “Besides, I read that this morning.”

I wander over and help myself to a bottle of water from the self-service bar, glancing at the photo on the magazine.

I think back to Vancouver. I noticed Mom looked thin, but she looks even skinnier now.

I get my paperwork back from Edward, step outside, and call Tommy.

I’ll use this situation to set the first part of my plan in motion.

“I saw that magazine cover of Mom. She looks even thinner than she did at Gracie’s birthday party. I’m worried about her, Tommy.”

“I’m worried about her too,” Tommy replies. “This thing. The guilt. The fear. The lying. It's eating her alive.”

“You're almost done filming in Vancouver, right?”

“Yeah, we wrap up this week and then I’m scheduled to start Trinity 3: Retribution in New York with Matt.”

“And she’s supposed to start her publicity tour for To Maddie, with Love, right?”

“Yeah. That’s why she hasn’t been eating or sleeping. She’s so afraid that all the press and promotion will really send Vincent over the edge.”

“Cancel the tour. Break her contract. Pay them whatever you have to, Tommy. Get her out of it.”

“I’ve considered that.”

“You have to do more than consider it. You have to convince her. And I know you two don’t like to be apart, but you shouldn’t bring her and the girls to New York. Send them to France with James and don’t tell anyone. Lie. Say she’s sick. Say she’s in rehab. Hire a battalion to guard the grounds if you have to, but I know she’ll feel safe there.”

“She’s supposed to start another movie soon.”

“Get her out of that too. I’m going to start putting pressure on Vincent, and I need her and the girls somewhere safe.”

“What kind of pressure?”

“Financial pressure. I mean, I won’t be doing it personally, but, um, someone with like financial expertise will be. And that, combined with the timing of Mom’s release—well, we just don’t know how he’ll react. That’s why I really need them somewhere safe. Tommy, do you remember last spring when you asked me about a role in Retribution?”

“Of course. I was a little crushed when you told me you weren’t interested.”

“I was afraid I’d embarrass you. Will you tell me about the role?”

“An old enemy has you kidnapped and I go badass to save you. I want my last Trinity movie to be my best, and I just thought if you played my daughter, it would bring my feelings out more.”

“I love you, Tommy. I don’t tell you that enough, but I couldn’t ask for a better dad.”

“You mean stepdad?”

“No, I mean dad. And I know my real dad would be okay with me saying that.”

“That means a lot to me. I’m sorry how things went down at the house. The girls were so happy to see you.”

“I shouldn’t have surprised you like that. And, don’t worry; I won’t be seeing them again. Not until this is over. So, would I need to audition for the role?”

“Hypothetically speaking?”

“Yes.”

“You’d have to audition, but only as a formality. I had it all planned out so that you could shoot it over your Christmas break.”

I don’t bother telling him I’m not going back to school. Or that the timing is perfect, because I’ll be needing the spotlight about then.

“I want to do it.”

“I wish you could.”

“I’m working with Cooper on all of this. He says I can do it, and that he’ll make sure I stay safe,” I lie. Then I add sincerely, “It’d mean a lot to me, Tommy.”

“That would be amazing.”

“So you get Mom to France, and I’ll do the movie. Deal?”

“Baby, you’ve got a deal.”

Wash away the hurt.

1pm

As I get back into the car, I get a text.

Grandma:  You’ve been asking a lot of questions about love and fate. Here’s what I believe. Fate brings people into your life, but it’s up to you to decide who gets to stay.

I shove my phone into my bag, wishing it were that easy, and head toward the plane feeling sad.

I’ll be fine once I get to the island. I’ll build sand castles, watch the water wash them away, and know I made the right decision about both Aiden and Eastbrooke.

I’m hoping the water will wash away some of the hurt, too. So that all I’m left with is anger. Anger that I’ll direct towards Vincent until I destroy his life.

I take a step onto the plane, expecting to be greeted by my flight attendant.

Instead, I see Aiden and Peyton.

WTF!?

Doesn’t that boy ever freaking listen to me?

I stand in the doorway, arms crossed in front of me, shaking my head.

Because, no.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

As if it isn’t bad enough that Aiden is on my plane, he’s fist-bumping the pilots like he owns the place.

I study him closely. His bruises are almost gone. His hair is perfectly messy. His shoulders are back and confident.

He looks more like his old self.

Damn him.

But I guess it’s better than how he looked in the chapel and at the pep rally.

I close my eyes tightly, trying to forget, but knowing that in a few moments I’m going to make him look that way again.

Peyton sees me first, gives me an awkward smile, and brushes Aiden’s arm to get his attention.

He freezes while the pilots and attendant introduce themselves and then get to work.

Then he uses those damn tractor beams to hold my gaze as he walks across the plane. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to.

He grabs the crook of my elbow, causing me to jump, as he leads me to the back of the plane.

I’m pretty sure his touch was like a defibrillator, sending 360 joules of electricity straight to my heart.

Making it beat for him again.

Damn my traitorous heart.

Be strong, Keatyn. It doesn’t matter what your heart feels.

You have to use your head.

He thinks this is the big gesture.

And it is.

It so is.

I so want to jump into his arms.

Tell him I’m sorry.

Kiss every inch of his face.

But I can’t.

I squirm out of his hold but still end up trapped against the back wall. His tall, muscular chest is totally invading my personal space just like it did the first time I met him.

“You know you can’t come with me.”

He doesn’t respond.

Well, he does respond, but his response is to grab both my arms and pull me into a kiss.

A hard, possessive kiss.

A cotton-candy-has-filled-my-brain kiss.

I do everything in my power to remain stiff.

But I can’t.

Probably because of his godly love potion trickery.

And why the hell does he have to smell so good?

He pulls away, so I shake my head and start to speak.

But he stops me again with his lips.

After giving me another long kiss, he backs away slightly and cocks an eyebrow at me.

“You know you can’t—” I try to say.

Kiss.

“Stop th—”

Another kiss.

“I’m going to keep kissing you until you stop talking,” he tells me.

“But I—”

Kiss.

Ohmigawd, he is so frustrating.

“Aiden, but we already—”

His lips land hard on mine. Again.

And with every kiss, my resolve is weakening.

He stops kissing me and looks into my eyes.

I bite my lower lip to keep from saying anything else, while shaking my head, closing my eyes, and wishing I could close my ears.

Because I don’t want to hear what he has to say.

It was hard enough to hear it once. To end it once.

His face is way too close to mine. I can feel the stubble on his cheek. His breath on my neck.

His finger touching my lip.

“Does this mean you’re ready to listen?”

I shake my head no.

Because I can’t listen. I can’t hear it. It’s why I couldn’t listen to his messages or read his texts. I’m not strong enough.

He kisses my neck, causing my eyes to open in surprise. Then he bores those green eyes straight into my soul.

And his soul tells me the same thing it always does. That we should be together forever.

He breaks eye contact, holds his hands up, and says, “Boots, I give up.”

“Then why are you here?”

He kisses me again.

This time with his tongue. That love-potion-infused tongue that always renders me incapable of speech.

He should’ve just used it the first time.

“You were right. It wasn’t all about you. I jumped into relationships last year. I did things with girls I didn’t have feelings for. I wanted to do things differently with you. And I know you loved the Keats guy. It was unfair of me to judge your relationship when I know nothing about it.”

“But I can’t—”

He kisses me again then says sternly, “I’m not finished yet.” Then his voice softens. “Boots, I don’t care about my past, or yours.”

I study his face carefully, wishing it could be true. “Do you mean that?”

He gives me a teeny smirk. “Why, were you bad in the past?”

“Um, no,” I say, carefully choosing my words. “I was just kind of a different person.”

He cups my face in his hand, gazes into my eyes, and says sincerely, “I only care about your future. Our future.”

“But sometimes people's pasts come back and ruin their futures.”

“Not ours.” He holds his palm up and says, “Don’t move.” Then he picks up a heavy shopping bag from one of the seats. “I got you something.”

I watch as he reveals a large Mason jar.

I squint my eyes at it. “What's in there?”

“Dirt.”

“You got me dirt?” I ask incredulously.

He grins, his green eyes sparkling. “Yes. To build our mansion of love on.”

I try to pretend his reference to our love mansion doesn’t affect me, even though it makes me completely melt inside. I manage to give him a chuckle and say, “It’s gonna be a small mansion.”

He laughs too, then looks at me seriously. “It’s symbolic dirt. It also means a fresh start.” He sets the dirt down on the floor between us, then puts his hand on the wall above my shoulder, boxing me in like he’s done before. “I don’t care if everything we’ve told each other up until this point is a lie. We start over. Here. Today. This second. Both of us. On fresh dirt.”

I can’t speak. I can only look down at the jar of dirt—the non-sand dirt—and wonder how in the world he could possibly know the one thing that I so desperately need.

I’m lost in thought when he takes my hands in his, brings them to his lips, and asks gently, “Boots?”

Tears flood my eyes as my heart overrides my brain. I stare at the jar of dirt and say longingly, “I really want dirt.”

“You want dirt?” Peyton asks loudly from behind us. “Are you serious? I told him that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Aiden turns and glares at her.

She responds by miming zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

He turns back toward me and puts his forehead against mine. “We both need dirt. Please let me come with you.”

Damn the gods, damn fate, damn everybody.

But I find myself nodding.

Nodding and crying.

I may not be able to give him my love, but I can give him the one thing I couldn’t give anyone else.

Closure.

I'll let him come with me. I'll tell him on the island that I can't go back to Eastbrooke. That my mom is making me go to Vancouver or something. That maybe we can stay in touch. And if I survive my face-off with Vincent, maybe, someday, I could see him again and tell him the truth.

And I know it’s selfish, but maybe there will even be a few more take-my-breath-away moments before I put him on the plane and send him back to school without me.

I’ll tuck those moments away with the other ones I’ve had in my life and carry them with me while I fight Vincent.

The moments of a life that used to be.

His own eyes are teary as he uses his thumbs to brush away my tears. “Is that a yes?”

“Aiden?”

“What, baby?”

“I don’t want to start over. Not completely. We’ve had too many amazing moments to forget.”

The smile that spreads across his face could light up the heavens. It’s full of emotion.

He hugs me tighter and gives me a kiss.

A true love, fairy tale kind of kiss.

But I don’t want to hurt him again.

“There’s a lot going on in my life that you don’t know about. I was actually looking forward to being alone. Trying to sort things out.”

“There’s a lot we need to talk about, but I’ll give you whatever space you need.”

“Fine. I’ll let you and Peyton come with me.”

“Good,” he says, still running his hands slowly down the sides of my arms.

“Okay. So, uh, I should probably tell the attendant we’re ready to go.”

“Okay,” he says, but he doesn’t let me go.

He kisses me again.

After a long kiss, I let the flight attendant know that we’re ready.

We get buckled into our seats and prepare for takeoff.

Peyton scrunches up her nose. “So, you liked the dirt?”

I let out a little chuckle. “No one but me would’ve liked the dirt.”

She nods as she puts earbuds in, hits some music on her phone, and then leans back and closes her eyes. The flight attendant gives her a blanket right before we take off and she snuggles under it.

I grab my phone out of my bag and hold it up in front of Aiden’s face. All of a sudden, I feel strong enough to know what he said.

He takes it out of my hand, turns it off, and puts it in his pocket. “You have to turn your phone off now.”

After we get to cruising altitude, I ask for it back.

He shakes his head at me. “No, I’m deleting them.”

“But I wanna know what you said.”

“I’d rather tell you. On the island, in front of the ocean; preferably after a couple tropical drinks.”

“That bad?”

“Well, they started out with me trying to explain. Trying to understand. But then, toward the end, I’d say I was probably sounding pretty pathetic and desperate.” He shakes his head and smiles at me. “I don’t want to ruin my reputation.”

I watch as he scrolls through my phone, frowning, shaking his head, and occasionally rolling his eyes at what he wrote. “Pathetic,” he says, pressing buttons and deleting messages. When he’s finished, he hands me back my phone. “Only left one,” he says, putting his lips on my neck and grazing it with every syllable. “The most important one.”

I look down at my phone and read.

Hottie God:  I’m not giving up on us. I can’t give up on us. 

I’m really glad he can’t see the emotion that’s written across my face as I read. I close my eyes tightly and try to forget that in a few short days he’s going to have to do just that.

“Do you care if I lie down and rest for a bit?” he asks.

“Uh, no. Go ahead,” I tell him, but I’m not prepared for what he does. He stretches his long body out on the couch and puts his head in my lap.

I can’t stop my fingers from running through his hair, moving gently across one slightly puffy eye, touching his adorable freckle, and skimming across his nose. I'm convinced now more than ever that he's a god with special healing powers, because his broken nose is still completely straight and beautiful.

He closes his eyes and quickly starts breathing heavily.

I remember when he was asleep in Bryce’s room the night I saw his note, Why should I bother? And his answer, Because she felt it too. Back then I didn’t think he was talking about me. Now, I think he was.

Oh, I never should’ve let him stay on this plane.

Telling him goodbye is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Right up there with leaving my family and B.

But I’ll just have to put on my big girl panties and do it. I want us to have an ending. I want him to be able to move on. To not have things up in the air the way they are with B.

I kiss his forehead, close my eyes, and try not to cry.

A few hours later, Peyton wakes up, stretches her arms above her head, unbuckles herself, and then comes to sit down next to me.

“We’re a fun crowd, huh? I’m sorry I fell asleep.” She looks down at Aiden sleeping in my lap. “He hasn't been sleeping much. Neither of us have.”

“Why haven't you been sleeping?”

“What you did with Whitney. Sitting with her when no one else would. That's the kind of girl I used to be. I never wanted anyone to feel left out. I got so wrapped up in myself, it's embarrassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. When I told you it would backfire on you, I was speaking from experience.”

“What happened?”

“Same deal. I started to worry more about my status than about people. I didn't like the way my best friend was behaving, so I decided to break away and make my own group. But I didn't go about it the right way. I didn’t choose those friends very wisely. My big coup was throwing a skip-school party and not inviting her. She ended up sitting at lunch alone while we were sharing party pics. It didn’t even really affect her, but I screwed up a friendship that was important to me, caused one of my friends to get drugged, and became a bigger bitch than she was. And even after that, she still helped me.”

“We talked,” she says, referring to Whitney.

“How'd it go?”

“Okay. I apologized for being an ass all year. I know she's always held that stuff over my head, but it’s been a long time since she's threatened to use it. Probably just my own insecurities. I was shocked she did that to Chelsea. She’s never done something like that for anyone. It’s always been for herself.”

“I think it was her warped way of apologizing for all the mean stuff she did to me. And if it’s any consolation, she's just as screwed up as we are.”

“You never seem to screw up.” She looks at my hand still absentmindedly running through Aiden's hair. “Except maybe with him. He likes you.”

“I like him too.”

“If only it were still that easy,” she laughs. “Like in middle school. All you have to say is she will like you if you like her back.”

“That's funny.”

She sighs. “What do you think of Camden?”

“I think deep down he's a good guy.”

“I sometimes wonder what it’d be like to marry him. But I can't really picture it.”

“Then it’s probably not right,” I say, my mind immediately conjuring up a wedding to Aiden. A hillside overlooking the ocean at sunset. Close friends and family. Ribbons in the trees and big hurricane lanterns lighting the aisle. Dinner at a winery. Brick patio. Candles on every surface and twinkle lights strung above our heads. Me in a dress with golden embroidery. Gorgeous shoes. Then a party. Dance floor set in the trees. Lots of wine. Lots of dancing. Aiden in a black suit looking a little dangerous and totally delectable.

Peyton touches my arm, causing my daydream to evaporate. “I just want you to know that when we go back to school, things’ll be different. I'll be different.”

I gave her an understanding nod.

Peyton and I have different backgrounds but we’re alike in so many ways. I know with a little more time she could’ve been a lifelong friend.

Lifelong.

I know that once I start this showdown with Vincent my life might not be very long.

But, I guess, at least it will be mine.

“So, what are we gonna do on the island?” Peyton asks.

“Relax. It has everything you could possibly want. Aside from the ocean, sandy beach, and infinity pool, there is a two-lane bowling alley, gym, movie theater, and even a small nightclub.”

“You and Aiden could dance. He said you guys had fun at the club in New York City.”

“We did have fun. I loved the Empire State Building. Did he tell you we watched a couple get engaged?”

“He did. You know, he’s gotten romantic.”

“What do you mean gotten?”

“All the little things he’s done for you. He’s never really had to try with a girl, but your relationship is different. And what the hell was the dirt about?”

“You know how some relationships are kinda shallow? You like them because they're hot, or just for sex, or cuz you want to make someone jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“He wants a relationship that's deeper. One that has a strong foundation. The dirt is supposed to be the start of it.”

She sighs and clasps her hands together. “My parents have a relationship like that.”

“My grandma told me this morning that she believes fate brings people into your life but it's up to you to decide who stays.”

“I hope fate brings me a gorgeous, down-to-earth, soulful hottie.”

“So did you have a Thanksgiving break back-up plan? Like, for where you were going if I said no?”

“I had one. Aiden didn’t. Every time I brought it up, he told me no.”

He's good at that word, I think.

“He said he couldn't entertain the thought of you saying no. That he had to focus on the positive. He's been a wreck, Keatyn. I've never seen him like this. No one has.”

“It was a bad deal.”

“But he didn't really do anything wrong. I don't get why you’re still mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“I know he's my brother and I'm biased, but he's a good guy. And I know that he’s dated a lot of girls and I can see why that would upset you, but—”

I hold my hand up. “We'll figure things out.”

“Fine. I’ll let you two handle it. But I have some stuff that I need to say. Stuff I need to say out loud.”

“Uh, okay.”

“I’ve been living my life with a chip on my shoulder and using what happened to my mom as an excuse to justify my behavior.”

“Have you forgiven yourself?”

“I’m trying. That’s part of why I’m looking forward to this trip. It’s a new beginning for me. Of living with the conscience I was raised with. And of figuring out what I want from life.”