Page 25 of Starlight

“I usually leave the oats and honey, and a few tins.”

Akai had seen the tins of beans and vegetables.

“Just make sure you keep the oats in the sealed container. I don’t want to come back here and discover the mice have taken over the place.”

“I will not let mice take over.” He’d eat them before that happened. Crispy field mouse was delicious with mushroom and wildflower salad. He moved one of his pebbles and scooped one of Cole’s out of the ring, setting it to one side, and trying to ignore the tumbling in his stomach at the implication that Cole would not be returning soon.

“Will you not be back next weekend?” He tried to keep his voice level as if he didn’t care, even though he did.

He wanted Cole to return so they could spend next weekend together. It was probably a bad idea, and he definitely shouldn’t get attached to a human, and yet he didn’t want him to leave. And he couldn’t lie to himself and say it was because he wanted to resolve the tangled fate between them. It was more than that. He’d realized that while Cole was climbing the tree, then sitting in his nest. He’d been terrified that the human would fall and that they would never have the chance to resolve this…this mess they had made.

He had no doubt his sister would be laughing her antennae off at the situation.

There was also a second problem, which he had realized when Cole had climbed down the tree and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had wanted to lick the sweat off him because he smelled so damn good, intoxicating. There was really no polite way to ask a human if he could lick him, and he didn’t think Cole would take it as a compliment.

Not only that, but he wasn’t sure what it meant, only that the idea of licking Cole had made him harder than he’d thought possible. Even thinking about it was making his dick pay attention. He was aware of every movement Cole made and the scent of his skin, despite the shower he had taken before dinner.

“It depends on work. Sometimes, I don’t get a choice.”

While Cole didn’t particularly like his job and felt as though he’d been forced into it after his cousins’ death, Akai needed to take a chance and say something. “I would like it if you came.”

Cole smiled and studied the circle of pebbles. He hadn’t lost the game yet, but he was not in a good situation. Too many of his pebbles were close to the edge. “I would also like to come next weekend.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Leaving the cabin was always difficult because Cole knew what waited for him in town. This time it was even harder because he was leaving someone. Not that anyone would believe him if he mentioned there was a monster in his cabin. They’d look at him as if he’d lost his mind. Which was exactly the reason he stayed quiet after the accident. He didn’t need another reason for people to whisper about him. However, this time it wasn’t a dream.

His fingers brushed over the gold-wrapped stone hanging around his neck. Akai had braided grass into a cord for the pendant to hang from until he could choose for himself if he wanted leather or a gold chain. He wasn’t sure he wanted either as he didn’t wear jewelry, but it would’ve been rude to refuse. He tucked it beneath his shirt, not wanting his parents to notice when he got home.

As he pulled into the driveway alongside his father’s work truck, the sense of dread and expectation swelled and threatened to crush the air out of his lungs. He wanted to turn around and drive back to the cabin, so he didn’t have to be there. He wanted to run away even though that was selfish, as there were people who’d love his kind of job security; they might even be jealous of his family. But was it selfish to want to live his life the way he wanted, even if he wasn’t sure what it was he wanted?

All he knew was that this wasn’t it.

Living in the cabin full-time wasn’t it either.

Listening to Akai talk about the way he traveled from place to place, exploring the old mines and making jewelry, made him envious of the freedom. Yet at the same time, he’d also been able to see and understand that Akai was alone, with no family, or at least none nearby.

He turned off the engine. And sat there for a few minutes, usually he returned from the cabin with a sense of peace because at least he had somewhere to go that was his. This time being up there had only amplified the feeling of resentment.

He tipped his head back against the seat and drew in a couple of breaths, trying to find some kind of equilibrium. Fuck it, he’d go back to the cabin on the weekend.

And if Akai wasn’t there?

Well, their paths would cross again at some point in the future. That was the whole point of fate, wasn’t it? It was inevitable, like the stars.

It took far too much effort for him to get out of the truck, grab his bag, and head inside. As usual, his parents were relieved to see him back safely. Mostly, they worried about the drive now that he had finished building it. During the construction, they’d worried that he’d hurt himself.

Everyone was always worried that he would get hurt; no one cared that he was already hurting. No one wanted to hear about that. One therapist called it survivor’s guilt. But he didn’t feel guilty about surviving the car crash. He resented the fact that his cousins had died and left him with their mess.

Mom called out from the living room. “I set your dinner aside.”

“Thanks.” He dropped his bag on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, ready to haul it upstairs to his room and unpack.

She said something to Dad, or possibly his uncle, then he heard her footsteps drawing closer, as if he needed supervision to heat up a meal. He put the plate in the microwave and watched it spin.

“Did you enjoy your weekend?” she asked when he didn’t turn around.

“Yeah. I saw the meteor shower.” Shot a monster, stitched him back up, talked about life and loss. The usual.