Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Come on. Let’s go find him.” I take Morgan’s hand and drag him with me. Rhett goes toward the woods, while Morgan and I head straight for the water, toward the Birchbark Lake access on their property.
“Easton!” I call out.
“East! Where are you?” Morgan shouts. We comb the length of the water and don’t see anything. “What if he…”
Ella drowned right here at home, and what if East went into the water too.
“He’s not. He’s fine.” He has to be. I don’t know if Morgan could survive it if he wasn’t.
“You don’t know that. It was my fault before. It’s my fault now. I…”
“I found him!” Rhett says, coming toward us with a blond kid who’s all arms and legs. “I’ll watch him this time since you can’t be bothered with it.” He steers Easton toward the house, the youngest Swift with his head down, not speaking. He hasn’t spoken much since they lost Ella. Before he was a jokester, always laughing and being silly. It’s hard to believe he’s the same kid.
“God, I fucking hate him so much.” Morgan’s hands ball into fists.
I can see where he’s coming from. Rhett is a dick, but also…hell, I think he’s suffering in his own ways too. “It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault,” I tell him, because that’s what I think he needs to hear the most, and it’s true.
Morgan swipes at his eyes, one tear having leaked free. “I hate it here. I can’t wait to get out. Rhett gets to go. He’s leaving for college, and I’m stuck here. I doubt I’ll be able to leave even after we graduate. I just want to go.”
I try not to let his words hurt me. It’s his life, and it’s not like I expect him to stay. I’ve always known Morgan would want to leave…just like I know I belong in the UP.
“You’re the only thing here that makes it bearable,” Morgan adds, and pulls me into a hug. I inhale his scent, amber and musk, sear it into my senses.
“I want you to go with me when I get out of here. Just me and you. I know you don’t hate Birchbark like I do, and you have your family and stuff, but…I want you with me. My best friend.”
His best friend. That’s all I will ever be to him. And while it should be enough—and in a lot of ways it is—I want more.
“Well, no one is going anywhere today,” I say rather than answering. “And you’re lucky I’ve settled down now. I was going to kick your ass for paying for Mom’s car.”
Morgan shrugs, no regret for his actions. “Money is all I have to give you. You were there when Mom died…you helped us with Ella and Easton. Hell, you were just a kid too, and since I had to be home more to help with them, you were at my place with me. You could have found another friend or been out living your life, but you were here with me. Now…after Ella…” His voice breaks on her name.
I want to tell him he gives me more than money—his friendship, his love, even if it’s not the way I want it. I want to take his hand and bring him down to the dock to lie there and talk to him for hours like we used to before Ella drowned.
I don’t do either of those things. Instead, I say, “Money is the least important thing you give me. Come on. I’ll help you cook dinner for Easton before I bring the car back to Mom.”
Morgan takes my hand, nods, and we go toward the house.
CHAPTER ONE
Morgan
Eighteen years later
“Do you want to go?” The question comes out before I acknowledge what I’m saying. It should be automatic—my question. Or at least I should know if I want my serious boyfriend, the man I live with, to go back home to Birchbark with me, but I already know what he’s going to say, and I don’t feel strongly about it one way or another. That’s not how it’s supposed to be when you’re in a relationship with someone. I know that, but it doesn’t change the reality.
“To spend the summer in Michigan with your family that I’ve never met? I can’t say that I do,” Rob replies, standing in our bedroom in a pair of briefs and a button-up white shirt. Rob is…honest, blunt. He’s logical and doesn’t sugarcoat feelings. It took some getting used to, but now I don’t even flinch. I’d rather know where people stand than be blindsided. I’d rather not think someone is one person, only to be completely betrayed by them. “I can’t believe you’re going.” He glances toward my suitcase, which is beside me on the mattress.
“My dad had a stroke.” The soft fabric of our blanket is like a pillow beneath my thighs. All the stuff in our Santa Monica condo is Rob’s. It was his place, and I’d moved in with him. None of it is really my taste, but the bed is certainly comfortable. Most things here are too sterile for me, though, but I don’t care enough to mention it to him.