Page 107 of Unbound

Everything is fine. I don’t need this.

I grab my phone and call Paloma. A breath rushes out of me when she answers on the first ring.

“Hey.” Her voice washes over me, icing out the heat but not the stress.

“Are you busy? Today and tomorrow?” It’s hard work to keep the strain and frustration out of my voice, but I manage.

“No. I’m done with class—I just have a pairs skate tomorrow.” Her laugh is like coming home. “Why?”

“Can you skip it?”

“Yes.” She laughs again, more insistent this time as she asks, “Why?”

I clear my throat, picturing a cloudy, mist-covered beach. A girl with slightly darker blond hair and a campfire. Days that stretch over years of time, each one of them a precious, coveted memory for me.

“I want to go to Speyside.”

Chapter 47

NOW

Paloma

Bennett and I have weaved in a constant dance around one another for three years—except in the first week before school, the August heat muggy and overly warm.

Because Bennett Reiner has never missed my birthday. Every single August 5, Bennett pulled in front of my dorm with a quick text, allowing for me to choose to answer the call. And I always have.

“I didn’t celebrate my birthday growing up,” I’d confessed to him once, stretched out in a bath he’d run for me, a little tipsy on wine.

He didn’t comment, but his hands paused where he’d been smoothing the strands of my hair.

I hadn’t hesitated to tell him the date when he asked, too unfocused to notice the determined set of his brow.

Every year, he would take me to Speyside for at least one night. Cooking for me, making me a coconut cake (which I’d discovered is my favorite after several attempts), and singing happy birthday in a low rasp. I swam most of the day, then sat close to him in front of the bonfire while he read poems—some new, some old favorites. It was the best day of the year for me; one of my only good days some years.

Bennett’s birthday was a different story. Because unlike me, Bennett had friends who loved him, family who wanted to spend every June 28 with him, loving on him and making him happy. A bittersweet day for me as I spent the evenings watching his stories; Rhys and Freddy’s, too.

Only once was I brave enough to show up, when the guys threw him a rager at their newly christened Hockey House. I spent most of the night in the shadows, watching them celebrate him and play drinking games. I was distracted by the strong column of his throat working beneath a funnel held by Freddy, though he’d had to stand on the table to reach the big goalie’s mouth at the right angle.

I stayed all night, only slightly drunk. Holden spent some of the night trying to get me to play, flirting and suggesting we could go home together. But I stayed, waiting for the chance to sleep next to Bennett in his bed.

Instead, we’d only had one moment, outside of the bathroom in a dark corner. He’d run into me, blinking slowly while his entire face melted into happy surprise.

“You’re here,” he’d said, his finger running along my cheek. I blushed and smiled.

“Happy birthday, Bennett.”

I took the frozen moment to kiss his cheek, watching his eyes close and a breath push out of him.

“Best birthday ever.” He sighed before Freddy rounded the corner calling for him to join them for King’s Cup.

I left after that, but the taste of his salty skin and genuine smile were enough to sustain me for a long time.

Now, it’s icy cold and darkly cloudy, but still classic and beautiful. Speyside always has been—the small town surrounding it, the spaced-out houses weathered and lived-in. This place has always felt like a home to me; one I keep close to my heart like a secret.

“Hungry?” Bennett asks when we step inside. He flicks on all the lights and turns on the heat. “I can get the fireplace going and we can eat?”

I nod, watching him switch the Waterfell cap around backward on his head, curls spilling out from the bill against his neck. I pull the scarf off my now-heated neck and tuck it on the hook by the door with my thick jacket, following Bennett into the dimly lit kitchen.