Matter of Truth, A (26 page)

Kellan murmurs, “You fixed your hair,” but he’s not looking
at me. He’s staring out at the gorgeous vista in front of us, a magnificent
city skyline blending into a pink and orange sherbet horizon.

I slide my legs in between the railing and sit down, leaving
a good two feet in between us. I’m dangling next to him on the thin, bronze
strip separating empty space and the top of the Dane’s apartment building,
wondering how in the hell I got to this place. How it all came to this.

How I can even make it through the next five minutes, let
alone day, week, month, or the rest of my life.

I lean my arms against the ornate railing and drop my chin
on them. “It almost feels like we’re floating up here.”

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring out at the
beauty in front of us. Karnach at sunset is one of the worlds’ most
awe-inspiring sights—the quartz in the marble glints and flashes golden and
pink in the blazing light, making it glow.

I want to scoot closer, revel in the comfort and warmth of
his perfect body against mine. But falling into old habits does neither of us
any good. “Kellan . . .”

“You don’t need to tell me,” he says quietly. “I already
feel it in you.” He finally turns to face me. “I felt it the very moment I saw
you after you got back from Alaska. Gods. The overwhelming love that consumed
you the moment you saw my brother—it was like a tsunami.” He sighs into the
void below us. “You’ve always gone back to him, you know. No matter what you’ve
ever felt for me, no matter what we’ve done, it’s always been Jonah for you.”
His bitter laugh is barely voiced. “I guess I always hoped that somehow,
someway . . . maybe it would change. I even thought . . . when we were in
Hawaii, it had changed. If anything, what you feel for him has only
intensified, even though you fear you’ve lost him for good.”

I bite my lip and study him. He looks so tired, so . . .
resigned. So heartbroken that my own heart crumbles right along with his.

“I love you,” I tell him, letting him feel the truth of how
that love permeates every cell in my body. “That will never change.”

A sad, quiet sigh escapes his beautiful lips. “Just not
enough.”

I don’t know if I can do this. How I can even contemplate
hurting him—hurting me—like this. But all night, all day, all I could think of
was how this was better than dragging along the pain until it defined us,
tainted everything we feel for one another. I’ll never be able to let go of
him. Fate won’t let me. But I can choose right now to do everything I can to
begin the long road home toward hope. “Kellan. You know that’s not true. I tore
apart my life because I love you so much.” I close my eyes and mentally curse
myself. “That came out wrong. You certainly had nothing to do with my actions
this year. I and I alone chose to do what I did. What I meant was, my feelings
for you are so strong, so . . . powerful, that I found myself doubting all the
decisions I’d made for myself—at least, the ones concerning
this
.” I
press my fist against my heart.

His forehead drops against the railing, his eyes drifting
toward the people filling the streets below—people going about their daily
lives, blissfully unaware that above them two people are breaking their hearts
apart.

“I wish I could be the girl you deserve,” I tell him as
those pieces surge up into my throat, threatening to strangle me. “Gods, I wish
that so very much, because you are . . .” I nearly choke as I say this,
desperate to keep myself from shattering. How does a person let go of a future
with somebody critical to his or her existence? How do they survive? “You are
one of most important people to me in all the worlds. I am so blessed that I
have gotten to know you, love you . . . be loved by you . . . It’s a gift. One
of the best gifts I could ever receive.”

He lets out a shuddery breath; my own collapses inside me.

I lean my head against the railing and watch him, silent
tremors wracking my body. So much of me is screaming that I’m making a mistake,
that I should tell him I was wrong, to forgive me, hold me. Kiss me. Make love
to me. I’m terrified of losing him, beyond scared of what giving him up like
this might mean to the both of us. But I can’t let Fate dictate this moment. I
can’t let this Connection between us be what defines our relationship.

He deserves better. So very much better.

The lovely half smile of his that I love appears after I
doubt myself for the ninetieth time in less than five minutes, even if just
slightly. “You and I never would’ve worked in the long run, you know. We’re too
alike.”

A gurgly laugh escapes me.
“What?”

His voice, as light as he’s trying to make it, shakes just
as much as mine. “We’re all adrenaline, Chloe. It’d be all raging and fighting
and hot make-up sex.”

He’s lying. Well, not about the hot sex, which I’m pretty
sure would be spot-on since so many of our make-out sessions were nuclear, but
definitely about the fighting. When we dated in high school, we were a dream
together. In Costa Rica? The same. He and I are ridiculously compatible. But I
play his game. “Plus, we’d always be chasing after one another. I don’t know if
you notice or not, but we both have a tendency to run away from our problems.”

Another soft laugh escapes him, because he knows I’m right.
“It’s a problem for the both of us, isn’t it? We’d have to put preemptive
tracking devices on one another in case of an argument or misunderstanding.”

This is probably the most gut-wrenching thing I’ve ever had
to do. So much sadness twists through me, compounding the urge to double over
and gasp, yet it’s not a new feeling. I’ve felt this way over Kellan too many
times in the past. No doubt I’ll feel it countless times in the future. But the
difference is this time, as I sit next to him while the sun slips behind
Karnach, I finally know what it is I want.

Like he knows I worry he’s going to stand up and leave and
never look back, Kellan holds out his hand and I take it, watching his long
fingers curve around mine before a gentle kiss brushes my knuckles. Lovely,
delicious tingles sparkle through my body. What if this is the last time we
touch? Hold hands? Can I—even as sure as I am—ever live without this again? Do
I really even want to? “Except, I’m done running. I’m not going anywhere this
time.”

“Me either,” I whisper. And I mean it.

“Good.” A gentle squeeze, and then we are no longer
touching; I’ve begun my mourning in earnest now. “You asked me once, a long
time ago, to promise you that we would be something important to one another.
I’m finally ready to make that promise to you.”

I know my smile is bittersweet and more than a wee bit
teary. He’s giving me another gift right now, one I don’t know if I deserve.
But because I love him so very much, and because, at heart, I will always be
selfish when it comes to him, I gratefully take what he offers.

Because I will gladly take anything he has to offer me if it
means I still get to have him in my life.

“I promise that I will always be here for you when you need
me. I promise to be your friend, your confidant, and the person you can always
count on. I promise you that you have my heart and my loyalty. I promise you
that you will always have my love.” He leans his face against his arms, head
tilted toward me, and I swear, his smile is just as bittersweet as my own.

There’s a fist in my chest, and it’s squeezing the crap out
of my heart. Because I love him. I do. I love him so much, it’s ridiculous. He
is an amazing person, so smart and warm and loving, and anybody,
anybody
,
would be lucky to call him friend, let alone lover. To let him go tears me
apart. I doubt I’ll ever get over it. I know I’ll never get over him. But it’s
not fair, keeping him and me in limbo when I finally know that it’s Jonah who I
want and need. In a way, Kellan was right. He and I have been intensity
personified this last year and a half, tortured by high highs and low lows.
He’s all about the rush—whether it be sweeping me off my feet or jumping out of
a helicopter. And it’s not all because of me. That’s just who Kellan Whitecomb
is. He’s a risk taker. And that’s all well and good, but what with the stress
of being a Creator with crappy parents who have written her off, I need—no,
crave my feet firmly on the ground, at least most of the time, anyway. Even
still, if he’d told me we could never see one another again, I don’t know what
I would’ve done. So I tell him, since saying anything more would just exacerbate
the constriction against my heart, “Ditto.”

Because to promise him anything less would be a lie.

“I see you’re back to your natural color.”

I look up from the peaches I’ve been examining to find
Sophie Greenfield leaning against a nearby table. Will and I are at Annar’s
farmers market buying food for tonight’s dinner at the Lotus’. Initially, it
had been suggested we go out to a restaurant, but once everyone took a moment
to remember what happened the last time we were all together, we compromised and
decided to eat at Astrid’s. That said, Will was pretty forthright about wanting
to cook for everyone, even if it wasn’t his own kitchen.

So here we are, buying fruit and veggies, and I’m confronted
by what appears to be a pissed off ex-girlfriend of Kellan’s.

I slip a pair of peaches in a bag. “Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.” She takes a few steps closer, her
dark sunglasses glinting in the late morning sunlight. “We need to talk.”

Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Of everybody in Annar I
need to talk to, Sophie Greenfield is not even on the list. I may be in the
middle of the painful process of letting any future I have with Kellan go, but
I’ll be damned if I ever play nice with this woman. I add the bag of fruit to
my basket. “Look, Sophie—I don’t know what it is you want, but I’m on a pretty
tight schedule here—”

“What I want is for you to go right back to the Transit
Station and re-lose yourself.”

I blink at her from behind my own sunglasses, taken aback by
the sheer vehemence radiating from her.

“Don’t think that just because you’ve been gone, I’ve
forgotten what you’ve done.”

Is she for real? I glance around, wondering if I’m somehow
dreaming, because surely she’s not still . . . I don’t know, angry or resentful
for whatever happened between her and Kellan nearly a year ago. Can she?
“Actually,” I tell her, “I haven’t thought about you at all and will continue
to not do so.”

She flips her gorgeous red hair over her shoulders so it
cascades down her lithe back. “I don’t know what it is about you that seems to
turn Kellan into an idiot, but just know I’m not going to be putting up with it
anymore. He and I have worked hard to rebuild our relationship.”

Anger and confusion root me to the spot I’m standing in.

“I can’t believe I was able to find everything on the list,”
Will says, reappearing from wherever he took off to five minutes before. He
shakes his basket. “And then some.” It’s then he notices Sophie; there’s no
doubt he recognizes her from earlier in the week, since the Muse is such a
siren it’d take amnesia to forget such a face. A glance is thrown between us
ladies. “Right, then. We need to get moving; no time for crazies. I’ve got a
sauce to whip up.”

Let me count all the ways I love Will, starting with this
one.

Sophie draws in a sharp breath. I nearly laugh, because,
outside of the twins, it’s rare for any man to not immediately fall to his
knees in obsession. “Excuse me?”

But then, Will probably matches her in terms of physical
attractiveness, so he’s used to ignoring irrational ogling with the best of
them. “That’s funny. I’m quite sure I was clear in words and meaning.”

Her glasses are shoved to the top of her head; blue eyes
blaze in return. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Actually, I believe I know more than I’d ever like to.”

Interesting. Will isn’t lying when he says this, but as I
wasn’t the one to spill the beans on our shared sordid past, does this mean he
talked to Kellan about it? I know they’ve become friendly with one another
lately; it’s almost humorous that Kellan would talk to Will about his dating
problems.

By the looks of it, I’d say Sophie wants to tear Will’s head
clean off and throw it as far as she can after this comment.

Which doesn’t faze Will in the least. “Are you ready?” he
asks me.

I nod, but as we approach the cashier, I turn back to
Sophie. “I know it doesn’t mean much, coming from me, but maybe it’s time to
move on.”

She turns on her heels and leaves; even in anger, she
appears as if she’s gliding.

“She’s a wee bit terrifying, isn’t she?” Will asks as we pay
for our food.

Yes, but not necessarily for why he thinks. She’s terrifying
because her anger today was tenfold to what it was after her breakup with
Kellan, when it ought to have finally diminished into acceptance and regret.

And that understanding leaves me uneasy, to say the least.

Astrid’s expansive kitchen is a
dream come true to Will. As Cameron and Astrid awkwardly, yet adorably catch up
in the sitting room, drinking a wine that Callie sourly admitted came out of
Astrid’s special, private reserve, I hang out with Will, helping him prep
dinner.

“I thought you worked in a diner.”

Will looks up from his pot, frowning at Callie’s comment.
“So?”

My friend looks gorgeous tonight, wearing a silky silver
dress that matches her hair yet leaves her appearing out of place in the
kitchen. “I guess I’m surprised that you’re not making . . . I don’t know.
Diner food.”

What surely must be a sharp retort is cut off by Will’s cell
phone going off. It’s Becca’s special ringtone; I watch the muscles of his
shoulders tighten, almost like somebody slapped a whip against his back.

I think Callie sees this, too, because her eyes widen in
confusion.

But then Will pulls out his phone and sends the call
straight to voicemail. “Sorry to disappoint you, princess. Were you hoping for
diner fare, then?”

Callie leans against the counter, sighing loudly through her
nose. Will shoots me a pointed look from where he’s sautéing onions.

As he’s done for me in the past, I change the subject. “I
still can’t believe that Cameron and Astrid used to date each other.”

And . . . maybe that wasn’t the topic to choose, because
Callie practically snarls, “What I can’t believe is how they’re out there
sitting on the couch next to each other. It’s gross.”

Will rolls his eyes and says flatly, “The bloody nerve,
sitting on a couch together. Jesus. What’s this world coming to?”

Callie comes closer to where he’s standing by the stove.
“You think this is a joke.”

He sets the wooden spoon in a cradle nearby. “Not at all.
First of all, I don’t see what the big deal about two adults sitting on a couch
together is. If you and I sat on a couch together, would that mean we were . .
. shagging? That’s what you’re insinuating, isn’t it?”

For the first time in my presence, cool-as-a-cucumber Callie
Lotus flushes bright red.

“Unless this is a Magical custom that I am yet unfamiliar
with. Chloe?” I start when Will says my name. “Have you forgotten to fill me in
on this? All these times we’ve ever sat together somewhere, were you secretly
planning on us shagging? Because if that’s the case, I apologize for leaving
you unfulfilled.”

It’s completely unattractive, but I let out a cross between
a snort and a laugh.

“You know that’s not what I meant. It’s just . . .” She
pushes stray hairs off her cheek. “They’re acting happy about all of this.”

The nod Will gives is facetious at best. “Ah. Now I see what
you’re getting at. You’re upset that your esteemed, blueblood of a Magical
mother is friends with a peasant like my non of a father.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but Callie’s even more red
now. “That is not what I meant, either!” She grits her teeth. “Especially since
my biological mother was a non, too.”

He dumps a small bowl of crushed garlic into the pan. “I
know it seems like a antiquated, bizarre idea and all, but I like the idea of
my father being happy. If catching up with your mum happens to make him so,
then I don’t see what the problem is.”

This surprises Callie. “They used to
date
.” Her palm
presses flat against the counter, propping her up. “I would have thought, of
anybody here tonight, you would understand this.”

A small smile tugs at his lips.

She switches her attention to me. “Chloe. Explain this to
him.”

Yeah, right. “No thank you,” I tell her sweetly.

“Let me explain something to you, then, Callie.” Will adds
some rosemary and salt. “I am well aware of what this could mean, if, indeed,
it means anything at all. See, I’ve done some prying of my own. Your mum and my
dad were quite serious once upon a time for teenagers. After they broke up, my
dad nursed a broken heart until dating my mum.” She opens her mouth, no doubt
ready to counter his accusation, but he keeps going. “My parents had a
fantastic marriage that seems pretty fucking impossible to replicate. They were
happy
. Not put-on-a-show for the neighbors happy, but genuinely happy.
But she died, and he didn’t, and the last thing she’d ever want is for him to
pass by a chance to experience happiness again, even if it’s with her former
friend. Even if it’s merely as
friends
.”

“Callie, why is this so upsetting to you?” I ask, cutting a
French loaf into thick wedges. “It’s not like they’re dating or anything. Plus,
your mom admitted Cameron was her first love, too.”

“Exactly.” She swipes the butter dish away from me and
begins to add chopped bits of garlic and seasoning. “This guy was her first
love. When she told him she couldn’t have kids, he ditched her for her best
friend. And now that his wife is dead—”

Will is flat-out glaring.

“Sorry. I don’t mean that as an insult or anything. Now that
he’s
single
, it’s like she’s some kind of back up. Second choice. Mom
should never be second choice to anyone.”

“That is most certainly not what happened,” Will snaps.

Kellan chooses this moment to walk into the kitchen, and I’m
instantly a thousand times happier than I was just a minute before. He trades
the bottle of wine in his hand for a piece of bread I’ve just sliced. “Whoa.
Why all the hostility?”

As he pops a large piece in his mouth, I say tartly, “That’s
for dinner. Also, they’re arguing over whether or not they ought to be pleased
their parents are becoming reacquainted.”

“I don’t like how he can do that,” Will mutters, and then
Callie surprises me by voicing her opinion that Emotionals are true pains in
the ass, too.

Interesting.

Kellan’s amused, too. He eggs Callie on with, “Is that what
we’re calling it?
Reacquainting?
”

Oh, boy. It’s Callie’s turn to glare.

“You can put on your bitch goggles all you like,” he informs
her, serene as can be, “but just remember, I’m impervious to your vitriol.” To
me, he says, “Personally, I think it’s great.”

“Really?” I grin up at him. Happiness of my own floods my
senses at how easy things are between us despite our talk yesterday. Maybe we
can do this after all. “Me, too.”

“Traitors,” Callie mutters. She pulls over the bread so she
can butter the slices.

Kellan leans down and whispers in my ear, “Wanna know a
secret?”

Must. Not. Focus. On his breath. On my skin. I suck in a
deep breath, which is a stupid thing to do, because now I’ve got a lungful of
his yummy scent. We’re friends. We decided to be the very best, very closest of
friends. Oh gods. He smells so good.

One day at a time, Chloe.

Except, the urge to kiss him right now nearly renders me
speechless. So I end up saying, oh-so-eloquently, “Urgh?”

I can practically feel his grin growing against my earlobe.
Delicious shivers wrack my spine. “Forget about what’s happening out there with
Astrid and Cameron. It’s these two you ought to be paying attention to since
they’re incredibly attracted to one another. Did you know that?”

He pulls away and I’m frozen for a moment before bursting
out in laughter. He’s got to be kidding. Astrid and Cameron, okay, I can maybe
see that. They have been talking a lot lately and used to date. But Will and
Callie? No. No way. They’ve done nothing but argue since the moment they met.
Callie’s hung up on Jonah and Will’s unfortunately still stuck on Becca. “Are
you
serious
?”

“Yep.” His grin is adorably naughty as he helps himself to
another piece of bread.

“
Serious
, serious?”

Two fingers are held up. “Scouts honor.”

My sides hurt, I’m cracking up so hard.

Both Callie and Will ask what Kellan’s just told me, but
we’re too busy laughing to answer. “Screw you two,” Callie finally snaps, and
when Will agrees, I reach the point where tears leak out of the corners of my
eyes. It feels good to laugh this hard. It feels better to do it with Kellan.
Like the promises we made each other last night will be kept. And that we can
do this.

Dinner is highly entertaining for once. Every so often,
Kellan nudges me with his foot when either Callie or Will slide furtive glances
toward one another in between insults and debates. They think they’re being so
sly, staring at each other when they think the other isn’t looking. How had I
not noticed this before? I try not to giggle at the table since, while they’re
watching each other, Kellan and I are watching them. And Astrid and Cameron?
Forget it. They’re in their own little world where they’re only noticing each
other. They’re not doing anything other than talking, but they’re totally
enraptured with each other.