Page 29 of His Ruin
“Honey,” Mom warns, giving Dad a patient but stern stare. “Kaden has to move at his own pace. He’ll decide when he’s ready.”
Dad nods, his shoulders drooping. “I know. I’m just worried about him, my love.”
Mom slides behind him, wrapping her arms around his midsection as he kisses her cheek and pats her hands. “It’s hard to let go,” she whispers. “He has to make his own decisions and be his own person.”
Dad stares at her with a tender expression, his eyes bleeding adoration. “What would I do without you?”
“Worry yourself into a ravine,” Mom giggles.
They share a passionate kiss, the kind earned from years of love and devotion, and it makes me pause. I’ve always wanted a love like my parents have. It’s tender and consuming—the type of thing you only find once in your life. I’ve only ever known their love, and it makes my mind wander…
Does Kaden feel that way about me?
Does he want to hold me and kiss me as freely as our parents do?
Why am I thinking so hard about this?
And why am I so afraid to know the answer…
Heavy boots descend the staircase, and my heart leaps. My stomach flutters uncontrollably as my cheeks flush. Kaden rounds into the dining room, a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt clinging to his chest as he plops down beside me. The smell of fresh cigarette smoke wafts from him, and I hate how much I want to inhale it. It’s become a part of his natural smell, and something I can’t get enough of.
“You’re up early!” Mom muses as she takes a sip of her coffee.
Kaden smirks. “Yeah, I sleptreallywell last night.”
His hand slides onto my lap before his fingers curl around my inner thigh. I tense as he squeezes me, my skin prickling with electric zaps.
“We were just talking about which college Melody will attend.” Dad offers as he piles his plate high with breakfast.
“Oh?” Kaden questions with intrigue, his fingers biting into my flesh. “And which one will you pick, little sister?”
I swallow, avoiding his eyes as I laugh nervously. “Umm, I was thinking about Cornell. They have a great research program that I may be interested in.”
“Have you thought about your major?” Mom asks over her pancakes.
“I think I want to try botany.” I shrug. “I love plants and the outdoors. It just seems right.”
“That’s wonderful!” Mom gushes. “You and Kaden used to go to the creek all the time! And don’t even get me started on your garden. You loved that thing.”
It’s true. At one point, I asked Dad to build me a garden out back, and I grew a lot of vegetables. It was thriving with every passing day until a storm destroyed it. I was so heartbroken that I couldn’t look at the ruined soil without crying. It hurt me to see my work so tattered and wilted. To make me feel better, Kaden convinced Dad to get me some house plants and to decorate the front of our home with flowers for me to take care of. It was such a kind and sweet gesture, and now they’re still living as I tend to them every week. It’s one of the many acts of service my brother has done for me.
“Botany suits you,” Kaden whispers.
My eyes finally shift to his, and I get lost in those dark pools as a whole hurricane rages in my chest. “Thank you.”
Chapter eighteen
Kaden
MelodychoseCornell.Partof me thinks it’s the people pleaser at her core, the fragment of herself that only wants to make our parents proud, that pushed her to her decision. The other part of me thinks she did it because it’s the furthest away from our home, where she doesn’t believe I’ll be able to reach her.
She has another thing coming.
It’s early, the sun hasn’t even risen, as I shuffle through the kitchen and pour coffee into two travel mugs. Mom and Dad had their tear-filled goodbyes yesterday, sobbing and hugging my sister as if she was going off to something far worse than college. They had to fly out late yesterday to make it to the grand opening of Mom’s new store in California, leaving my sister and me to complete the three-and-a-half-hour drive by ourselves.
I’m thrumming with anticipation over our road trip. We’ve never done something like this on our own. It’s my chance to really get inside of her head, pick her apart, and lay her bare. She’s been drawing back from me, trying to distance herself because she still thinks this is wrong. It’s cute, but I want there to be no doubts about what our relationship is.
Melody’s soft footfalls enter the kitchen, and I glance over my shoulder at her. She’s dressed in a pair of tights and a crop top, her hair folded neatly into a wild bun of golden silk. She rubs the sleep from her eyes, holding out a hand without a word.
