“Okay, no,” Laney relented. “I would have said you were a kid and I didn’t care.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being honest. Now I get to be honest.” I sat back hard in my chair, leveling my eyes on her. “You never loved him. You even told me you didn’t.”

  “So what?”

  “So I did. I do. And what I want from you is not permission because I don’t need it, but acceptance. I want you to accept the fact that yes, I’m with your ex and yes, that’s fucked—“

  “Dammit, Jenna,” Mom groaned before slapping her hand over her own mouth in surprise.

  “But it’s the truth,” I continued. “It’s how it is and no matter how bad you think it makes you look or how wounded and indignant you feel like you have a right to be, I want you to stop and really consider how upset you honestly are over it. None of the spiraling out and compounding your anger with little details that don’t mean anything or matter. Quit throwing coals on the fire and ask yourself if you’re really cold.”

  “I don’t know what that means. Is that a saying?”

  “It means stop being mad for the sake of being mad and ask yourself if you really care that much?”

  She sneered. “What does it matter how I feel? Even if I forgive you it doesn’t make it right for him to cheat on me with my sister.”

  “It was one kiss and he broke off the engagement within hours,” I shot back, the words and the math and the timeline crystal clear in my mind. I had mulled it all over for so long, wrapped and unwrapped it in layers and layers of guilt. I couldn’t stop worrying over it. I just wanted it to be resolved. To find an end to this. To know once and for all, was I the villain?

  “He still cheated. Even if it was one kiss he was in love with you for how long? Years while he was with me? So one kiss or not you were still the other woman. You still stole him.”

  “Laney slept with Max while she was still with Kellen,” Mom told me frankly, lifting her glass and toasting me with a wan smile. “Merry Christmas. That’s your gift from me.”

  “Mom!” Laney shouted angrily.

  “Lower your voice, Laney. I’d like to come back here someday. Their eggs are divine.”

  “You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “And you swore you’d make amends with your sister. She gave you an opening and you shot it down.”

  “I did not! I’m talking it out with her.”

  “You were digging in the knife,” Mom countered sternly. “Let it go. You barely even liked him. You said he was annoying. You called him a know-it-all every other day.”

  “He kind of is,” I threw out there. “For what it’s worth, I agree with that. Problem is he actually does know everything.”

  Mom smiled affectionately. “He’s truly brilliant.”

  “He’s an ass,” Laney snarled.

  I grinned. “Also that, yeah.”

  She looked at me briefly before sighing and shrugging her shoulders. “Okay, fine. Yes, or no. I’m not that mad anymore. I haven’t really cared about it for months. Not since Max and I… not since he told me he loved me.”

  “Whoa,” I breathed. “Did you say it back?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Did you mean it?”

  She kicked me under the table.

  “Ow!” I cried, rubbing my shin.

  People were glaring at us all around the restaurant. We would not be brunching here again.

  “Watch yourself, bitch,” Laney warned with a laugh.

  We both looked at Mom, waiting to be scolded for our foul language.

  She raised her nearly empty glass to her lips and shrugged carelessly. “Fuck it.”

  Laney and I looked each other in shock, our mouths hanging open. But then they slowly closed as we smiled, bubbling full with laughter that turned so loud and raucous that even our waiter openly frowned at us, and we owed that man money.

  Mom grinned as she motioned to him for our check. She watched Laney and I laugh together, and I felt like our family was a family again. That we weren’t fighting, we weren’t tense, we weren’t liars and cheaters and fakers and thieves. We were people with flaws and scars that took a long time to heal, but everything did eventually. Time took its toll on everything, the good and the bad. It could whittle away your world to nearly nothing until it disappeared out from under you and left you standing barren and bereft in the cold empty. Until you were so broken down you had no choice but to start again. Or it could break down a wall. It could close a gap. It could clear your eyes to a shine that showed you forever. That showed you everything you’d already known.

  We were villains the lot of us, but it didn’t matter how the rest of the world saw us. Not even how we saw ourselves. What mattered when the sun went down and the day’s deeds were done was that in the eyes of the ones we loved, we were golden.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kellen

  Christmas came and went and still I didn’t ask Jenna to marry me.

  New Years on the beach sitting on a blanket, huddled close together against the cold in the dark watching fireworks explode in the night sky, reflecting over the rolling ocean waves, and still I didn’t ask her.

  I was starting to scare myself.

  I kept thinking I wanted it to be perfect. I thought maybe I needed to wait until we were in Ireland. That maybe there I’d find the right moment, because I needed to find that perfection. I had to get this of all things right. I’d screwed up so much with her already. I couldn’t stand to ruin this too.

  But was that really what was stopping me? Was I scared of doing it at the wrong time or worse – was I scared to do it at all?

  I didn’t know. I had anxiety about it either way and I couldn’t pin down exactly what I was anxious about.

  I felt like I needed a new outlook. Fresh scenery if I ever wanted to change. A new outside to spark a change on the inside.

  “I think I want to buy a house,” I called out to Callum, glancing around my bedroom.

  He laughed from down the hall. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  I chewed on the question, my mouth bursting bitter. “This place reminds me of Laney.”

  “That’s a good reason.”

  “Right?”

  “You gonna use Daddy’s money?”

  I didn’t answer him. He was lucky I didn’t go out there and punch him.

  “Well, do what you want, man,” he called, unfazed by my silence. “But if you want my two cents-”

  “I don’t.”

  “You wouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t. My two cents is that you got engaged to Laney and started talking about buying a house. Now here you are getting engaged to Jenna and you’re talking about buying a house. Might wanna deviate from the script a little.”

  He had a point. When I broke things off with Laney one of my biggest worries wasn’t that my relationship with her had gone south, because to be honest it’d never gotten above the Equator to start with. What I had been worried about, what I lost sleep and lining on the inside of my stomach over, was the fact that I was walking a path I didn’t want to take in every aspect of my life. Wrong job, wrong girl, wrong dreams. I admired Dan so much for all of his accomplishments and kindness that I had started trying to pattern my life after his. I convinced myself I wanted the high paying job and the big house and the hot, society wife, but what I had been missing was everything.

  Dan was good at his job because he loved it. He had a passion for it.

  Dan married Karen because he loved her. He didn’t want anyone else in the world but her.

  And what did I love? What was I passionate about?

  Boxing and Jenna Monroe. That was all I knew in my gut and they were all I needed in my life.

  So why hadn’t I fucking asked her yet?

  “Are you done packing?” Callum shouted in annoyance. “You’re gonna be late picking Jenna up.”

  I looked down intently at my open suitcase. It was packed neatly, everything I needed for a week in Ireland fitting into one bag. That’s the shine on the shit of being a foster kid; you learn to pack light.

  “I’m almost done.”

  “Pack a sweater. I don’t want you getting cold,” Callum sang.

  I chuckled as I folded a pair of jeans and laid them inside my suitcase.

  “Do you have plenty of fresh underwear? I don’t want you getting in an accident and have to worry you’re wearing soiled underwear. I’d be mortified. Do you hear me, mister? Mortified!” he cried shrilly.

  “Are you done?” I asked.

  “You can’t go to meet Jesus in tighty dirties.”

  “I don’t wear tighty anything. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”

  He came to stand in the doorway to my bedroom. “What are you insinuating?”

  “First of all, kudos for the double word score. Didn’t know you had that kind of vocabulary.”

  “Thank you,” he said with a small bow.

  “Second, I’m insinuating that you have an insalubrious preoccupation with the contents of my pants. Always have.”

  “Always will,” he shot back.

  I stood watching him, waiting.

  He pinched his lips together, his face going red as he held it in as long as he could. “Fuck you, where’s a dictionary?!” he shouted, leaving the room.

  “Look it up on your phone!”

  “What was the word?” he called back. “It was something about lube. Is it a sex joke? Should I look it up on Urban Dictionary?”

  My phone beeped with a new text message. It was from Jenna.

  Running behind. So sorry! Pick me up at the shop?

  What’s happened at the shop?

  More staffing crap.

  I frowned, feeling annoyed for her. She had a high turnover rate on tattoo artists lately. The shop was gaining a lot of popularity and the notice gave the newbies a big head. They got all puffed up and proud of their work and bailed to go work at bigger shops for more money, completely ignoring the fact that Jenna had given them their shot. They weren’t loyal the way she had been to Bryce, and I wasn’t the only one getting pissed about it. Bryce had told me the other day he was starting a Shit List and all of Jenna’s ex-employees were on it.

  In the So-Cal tattoo scene, you didn’t want to be on Bryce’s bad side and some young, fresh idiots were about to find that out.

  Do you need any help? I asked her.

  No, thnx.

  I shook my head in disappointment. She knew I couldn’t stand texting shorthand. ‘thnx’. Really?

  :P

  Emoticons. Really?

  lol U R the worst. C U soon!

  That text was followed by a stream of emoticons with all different faces that made my phone go insane in my hand.

  I laughed as I texted back, I love you, midstream in the madness she was sending me.

  “It’s weird seeing you happy,” Callum commented, standing in the doorway again.

  “Trust me, it’s weird being happy.” I zipped my suitcase closed before going to my dresser to grab my passport and ticket information. I paused, my eyes falling on the small black box that had rested on my dresser for the last month. Waiting.

  “How’s the job going?” Callum asked.

  I flinched inwardly at the question. I’d been taken on full time as an EMT after Baxter over at Hermosa hadn’t called me back following our meeting at the firehouse. I figured it was because they didn’t want me, but word on the street was that no one had filled that open slot over there yet. I didn’t know if they had decided not to take anyone on at all or if they hadn’t found the right person. No one did, and all of us volunteers who were itching for an opening into a full time slot were watching and waiting with breath held tight.

  I took a deep breath now, grabbing the paperwork for the flight to Ireland and turning my back on the box. “It’s good. I like it.”

  “Is it gross?”

  “Not yet, but I’ve been warned.”

  “You’re gonna touch shit at some point, aren’t you?”

  “Being an EMT there’s a good chance I’ll touch a lot of bodily everything. Thank God for gloves.”

  “How much longer till you’re ready to apply to firehouses?”

  “Fourteen months,” I replied, not bothering to tell him I’d been looked at by Hermosa already. I didn’t want to tell anyone anything until I had a job locked down. “I’m counting down the days.”

  “Me too. I want to ride in the rear. Pet the Dalmatian.”

  “This is starting to sound weird.”

  “Kellen, let me touch your fire hose.”

  “And we bypassed weird and went straight to gay. Good on you.”

  “You better hurry your ass up if you want to make that flight.”

  I flipped through my carry on one last time, making sure I had everything I needed. When Callum left the room, I looked over my shoulder at the ominous black box. It stared back at me.

  I picked it up, holding it in my right hand and spinning it absently the way I did every single day until my knuckles began their familiar ache. Sighing, I moved to put it back on the dresser.

  My phone beeped again, another message from Jenna coming in and lighting up my screen. It was simple and to the point. Straightforward and honest, genuine the way only Jenna could be.

  I♥ U 2

  I stared at it for only a second. It only took me that long to decide.

  I moved the box to my left hand – my strong hand – and slipped it into the pocket of my jeans.

  “You ready?!” Callum shouted.

  “Yeah!” I called back, grabbing my bags and my phone, hurrying through the door. Feeling like I was already flying. “I’m ready.”

  ***

  The boarding call for our flight rang out cacophonously on the intercom overhead.

  I didn’t move. Neither did Jenna.

  The world around us slowly pushed into action – men, women, and children gathering their bags and making their way toward the growing line for the plane. People shuffled across my vision, blurs of color and life, but I never looked away from her. Even when I couldn’t see her I watched her. Her long legs, long hair, long fingers full of elegance and art that was poured across her skin in brilliant swatches of color beneath her clothes. She drew most of her own tattoos. She only let Bryce ink them for her, her trust earned long ago and never tested. Never tempered. Not like ours. We’d been through the fires, Jenna and I. We were stronger than steel, possessing the kind of faith in each other that could only be born of pain, and I worried I’d given more than I received. I’d broken the cardinal rule of boxing and breathing.

  In life and in the ring you never dish out pain you aren’t willing to take.

  I wished I could go back and do things right by her. I’d take all of it. Every hit I’d landed against her heart, every scar I’d left on her soul. Every doubt I’d put into her mind. But life isn’t like that, it’s not fair, and I knew that better than anybody.

  Still I wanted it. I wanted it for her because I wanted everything for her.

  The line was thinning. Time was running out and we needed to board soon. Still she waited, never pushing. Never pressing just in case I changed my mind and decided to run.

  I was famous for that. For running.

  I smoothed my sweating palms down my thighs, rubbing the moisture on my jeans and shifting in my seat. The small box in my pocket poked against my side, nudging me sternly.

  When the final call came in for our flight I rose to go stand beside her.

  Then I knelt.

  “Jenna.”

  When she looked down at me her mouth fell open in shock. When I pulled out the small black box she nearly choked.

  “Kel, what the hell?” she whispered shakily.

  Looking into her cool gray eyes I felt suddenly calm. Sure. It was like that moment in the ring when you know the bout is won. The bell has yet to ding, but you know. You feel the shift of fate in your favor and you breathe a little easier because it’s done. It’s yours.

  And more than anything I needed her to be mine. I needed to know she was with me forever. Before I could go on this trip to meet my mom’s family, before I could face Ben in our next session and hear again and again how I needed to find closure with a dad I’d never known, I needed to know Jenna was all in. Despite everything we’d been through - all the bullshit, all the missed chances and bad timing, my own cowardice and every fault that lived inside my bones - I had to know she was still with me. That I was allowed to feel jealous, feel possessive and protective. That she was mine to defend and worship for the rest of my days.

  “I was planning on doing this in Ireland,” I explained calmly. “I wanted to wait until we were overlooking the ocean or somewhere beautiful. I was going to do it the right way and surprise you.”

  “You’re surprising me,” she assured me shakily. “You’re shocking the shit out of me.”

  I smiled at the curse. At the pure piss and vinegar of her that I had always admired. “I thought there were ways I was supposed to do this, but I don’t think there are. Not for us.” I opened the box to show her the ring but her eyes never left mine. “I can’t promise I’ll always tell you everything, but I’ll never lie to you. I can’t promise that I won’t run away, but I will always come home. I’ll always be faithful, I’ll always be there when you need me, and I will always, always love you. Jenna, wil—”

  She dropped to the ground, pushing the ring aside and throwing her arms around me. “Yes,” she whispered happily. “Yes, yes. Fuck, yes.”

  I held her hard. I was probably hurting her but she only held me harder, pressed her body against mine until I could barely breathe. I was drowning in her and it was the sweetest death a son of a bitch like me could ever hope for.

  We needed to get up. We needed to board our plane and get going, but right then what I wanted to do more than anything was hold her. To feel her, tall and slender and bursting with life and everything I’d ever wanted. Everything I never thought could be mine because she was pure grace. She was perfection.