Stranded

by Nicole Dykes

  “Disdain . . . arousal. Whatever.”

  I close my eyes quickly, suddenly remembering how much he irks me. “Did you, or did you not go out with my sister just to irate me? To piss me off?”

  “God, get over yourself, Everly. Aria was beautiful.” I swallow, the action almost painful, thinking about my beautiful blond sister. She was. And I know the feeling inside me is jealousy, which makes me disgusted with myself. “She was smart and funny. She saw the world differently.”

  Listening to him describe my sister is killing me for so many reasons. She was all those things, but hearing him say them it only makes me jealous of her. Guilt tears through me. “She did.”

  He studies me, his eyes searching mine as he leans in close, and I know he sees what his words are doing to me. “But I flirted with her at that party to fuck with you.”

  My eyes widen, and my jaw drops. “What?”

  He doesn’t move back. “I wanted you to be mad. I wanted you to be jealous.”

  “You. Asshole.”

  He doesn’t argue. “I did. I wanted to fuck with you. I knew you wouldn’t like me around your little sister.”

  I push away from him, moving to pass him. But he grabs my wrist, and I spin to look back at him with contempt. “You’re a pig.”

  “I said I flirted with her to fuck with you. But I dated her because of all those other things. I didn’t date her to mess with you. I did that for me.”

  I yank my hand out of his and glare at him, unsure of how I feel about any of it.

  He turns away from me, back to looking out the window. “I liked her. I liked the way she made me feel.”

  I don’t know what else to say. I feel sick to my stomach and sit down on the couch, clutching my waist.

  My mind on my little perfect sister.

  She was all those things.

  And part of me resented her for it.

  Last night was fucked up. Beyond fucked up. I admitted way too much, and I could see it in her eyes . . . her dark secrets lying exposed out there for me.

  We shouldn’t have done any of it.

  We shouldn’t have kissed. We shouldn’t have talked. We should have let it all die.

  She stayed on her side of the couch last night. Didn’t say one word to me. And I didn’t try to break the silence.

  Silence is safe. We’ve been treading on thin ice for three years, and sure enough, one small crack has led to a total disconnect.

  I wake up early and skip the bath, pulling on new clothes before heading out to the barn. It’s sunny today but still bitterly cold. The snow isn’t going anywhere.

  The door to the barn opens, and I let out an audible groan. I turn to see Everly is dressed and in her coat with her stocking cap pulled down over her hair, glaring at me. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I don’t know. Change of scenery.”

  She closes the door behind her, looking around. “You didn’t find a truck hidden in here, did you?”

  “Yup. And I forgot to tell you about it.”

  She snorts but doesn’t seem so annoyed. “I’m sorry. I was out of line last night.”

  I stare at her in shock. “What?”

  She takes a deep breath and sits on a bale of hay. “I shouldn’t have asked that about Aria. Of course, you were attracted to her, and that’s why you dated. I knew it had nothing to do with me.”

  Not entirely true, but I don’t say that as I sit next to her. “I did care about her.” That part is true.

  She nods, a small sad smile on her lips. “How could you not? She was perfect.”

  Everly isn’t looking at me. Her attention is fixed straight ahead, but my eyes are on her. Her pretty profile, her perfect pink lips and her straight, small nose. Her long lashes. “She was my opposite. Everything I thought I could never have. Everly . . .” She turns to look at me when I say her name. “I didn’t think she’d give me the time of day.”

  She snorts a curt laugh. “Oh, please.”

  “I’m serious.” I know my face reflects that sentiment.

  She shakes her head, her right hand sliding over the stubble of my cheek. “There’s no way she wouldn’t. She was young, sweet, and naïve . . . And you’re you.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  She smiles, dropping her hand down to the hay we’re sitting on. “It means you were like catnip to a girl like her. She didn’t have a chance against you.”

  “You make me sound like the big bad wolf.”

  She smiles. “She wanted you. Of course, she did. And of course, you wanted her.”

  “What are you implying?” I don’t like it, whatever it is.

  She stands up, her eyes a dark gray now. “The bad boy and the good girl. Come on. It’s a tale as old as time. I mean, you guys were the perfect storm.”

  I swallow the bile-like taste in my mouth. Bad. “I’m not bad.”

  I stand up, and she seems slightly taken aback. “I don’t mean bad.” Her brow furrows. “I mean the bad boy. Trouble.”

  “I’m not trouble.”

  She looks up at me with surprise. “It’s not a bad thing.”

  “Bullshit. So. what did that make you, huh? If you were with Liam? Are you the bad girl?”

  She glares at me, that disdain back in full force. “No. We weren’t that. We were just us . . . a simple couple.”

  She has no idea what the fuck they were. And I can’t tell her. “So, you two were just the perfect little couple. But we were what? A joke? The bad boy and the good girl? Why? Because it’s me?”

  She’s searching my eyes, and I hate it. “My God, not everything has to be a fight.” She throws up her hands “I mean . . . it does with us, though, doesn’t it? This is why you’re right, that I made the right choice. You and me . . .” She gestures between our bodies. “We would have been a disaster.”

  “No shit.” And we would have. We can’t go two minutes without fighting. She drives me insane.

  “Exactly. You and Aria, there was no way you two would have ever fought.” True. “And me and Liam? We never fought. It was easy. The way it should have been.”

  I bet they’d have fought if she knew the truth.

  I don’t let that truth escape though. I can’t. He’s gone, and he can’t explain himself. It’s not my place to tell her that.

  “Fine. You’re right. So, what now? Huh? How do we keep a little bit of peace while we’re stuck here together?”

  She sits down on the hay. “I don’t know.” She looks up at me. “Maybe we just don’t talk about the past. About Aria and Liam.”

  There’s sadness in her eyes when she says it, and I know it pains her. But I think she’s right. “Okay.”

  She looks around the barn. “Why don’t you tell me how you know this stuff.”

  “Stuff?” I raise an eyebrow and sit next to her again.

  “How to build a fire. What a cellar is. All that stuff. I thought you were a city boy, through and through.”

  I nod and stand up, walking over to the wood pile and gathering some in my good arm. She follows suit. “I am, but my mom’s parents had a farm about two hours south of here. I spent every summer and most Christmas breaks with them.” A smile tugs at my lips, thinking about my grandparents.

  “They lived on a farm?”

  I nod, and we carry the wood to the house. “Yeah. And they were pretty damn self-sufficient. My dad couldn’t stand them. They didn’t need anything fancy. Nothing. And he definitely didn’t get that. They had cows for milk and butter. They raised their own animals for meat. They had a garden with vegetables. They didn’t need anything. Went into the big town that was about an hour from them once a month for supplies.”

  I add wood to the fire. “Where are they now?”

  I sigh softly and take a seat on the couch. “They died a few years ago within days of each other.”

  She sits down next to me, tucking one leg under her with a sad smile on her face. “They must have really loved each other.”


  I smile, thinking about my grandparents. How they sat next to each other on the couch in the evenings, their fingers intertwined as they watched their crime shows. How my grandpa kissed my grandma on the forehead when he came back inside after smoking because she hated smoke in the house. “They did. Inseparable. They were amazing.”

  “Sounds like it.” She looks at the fire. “So, they taught you all this?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I even know how to bake bread from scratch.”

  She smiles bigger now. “Too bad we don’t have any flour. That sounds good.”

  I nod. “It was.”

  “Why didn’t your father like them?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. No one really talked about it. My grandma said that when my mom died, it was hard on him. That she made him happy, which I find hard to believe.”

  “You’ve never seen him happy?”

  I swallow and look up at the ceiling, tilting my head back. “Not really. He’s always been a surly motherfucker.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.” I shrug. “What about you? Any grandparents?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Not alive, but it wouldn’t matter. I never met them when they were alive.” I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t turn my head. “You didn’t talk about this with Aria?”

  I turn now, looking into her pretty eyes. “That’s off-limits, isn’t it? We just made that rule.”

  She nods, backing down instantly. “You’re right. Sorry.”

  I smile and look back up at the ceiling. “No. We didn’t talk about that.”

  We didn’t talk about much. Not real things. Not like this.

  I don’t go into detail, though, just hoping we can keep the peace a little bit longer.

  Things are strained. Not the normal type of strain between Cooper and me. No, this is worse. A fake kind of politeness has replaced the normal blunt tension.

  I liked hearing about his grandparents, but we haven’t talked much since then.

  I wake up first today, walking to the window and looking out at the bleak cloudy morning. The ground is still covered in snow.

  “At least it’s not snowing,” Cooper’s sleepy voice doesn’t startle me even though I didn’t hear him wake and walk behind me.

  “Yeah.” I turn to face him. “Bath?”

  He nods. “Yeah. I think every other day is okay. Especially if the snow starts to melt. It should replenish the well.”

  Every other day.

  I cringe, liking my daily shower for as long as I can remember. “Okay.”

  We go out to the barn, filling the two large pots and carrying them into the fire together. I watch Cooper and know he’s in serious pain with his shoulder even if he won’t admit it. We do the same with two buckets of water, adding them to the tub, and I grab the supplies from Aria’s things.

  I smile when I place the strawberry shampoo on the ledge next to the tub, which I suppose I can just leave here from now on. Aria loved strawberries. While I always went for lavender or vanilla, she liked fruity scents.

  “I think the hot water is ready,” I hear Coop say and turn to face him, nodding and walking past him.

  I feel oddly vulnerable around him now.

  After the kiss.

  Jesus, I wish I could just forget it.

  We pour the hot water into the tub, one at a time and an unexpected shiver slides through my body as I look at the water in the bath. Cooper doesn’t seem to have anything to say today.

  I watch as he removes his shirt with slow, careful movements. His eyes meet mine, his brow furrowed. “What?”

  No joke about checking him out. “You’re in pain.”

  “I’m fine. We don’t have much time.”

  I nod, and we both kick off our shoes and remove our socks. I lift my shirt off before pushing my jeans down and off.

  He’s watching me now. I feel his eyes on me. I don’t call him on it though. We’ve crossed a line, one we can’t seem to come back from. His eyes jerk away from me as he undoes his jeans, pushing them and his boxer briefs off.

  I don’t look. I’ve seen it.

  No good would come from looking at his naked body. He climbs into the tub, and I unfasten my bra from behind, taking in a sharp breath before dropping it to the floor behind me. I want to get completely clean.

  His eyes aren’t on me. In fact, I can tell he’s doing everything he can not to look at me. In one quick motion, I push my thong down and off and climb into the water that’s already starting to cool, wishing like hell it was full of water with luxurious bubbles. But there’s nowhere to hide.

  We’re both fully naked in a tub of water that barely covers our laps.

  What’s worse is I want to look. I have to actively remind myself not to, and it’s frustrating.

  “Why is this time even more awkward?” He seems amused.

  I look to the other side of the tub, meeting his eyes. “Because we’re both completely naked.”

  His good shoulder shrugs upward. “Not like your bra and panties hid much.”

  I roll my eyes but can’t ignore the flutter in my lower belly. I hate that he does that to me. Has he always?

  I want to say no, that there’s never been a sexual attraction there, but I know it’s a lie. Even when he was driving me insane and stealing time with my boyfriend, he caught my eye. A brush of the hand. A forbidden look or touch here and there. Jokes, sounding playful throughout the years with hidden meanings.

  It was always there.

  “And we’ve kissed.”

  His jaw tenses at the mention. “It wasn’t that good.”

  My eyes narrow, and he grins, knowing he successfully got to me. “You’re right.”

  “Usually am.” He grabs a washcloth and pours some bodywash on it, taking time to scrub his body, rubbing slow circles over his skin, and I’m hypnotized. I can’t stop watching the bubbles lather on his skin. Over every ridge of toned muscle. Over every inch of ink on his body.

  “The water’s getting cold.” He doesn’t give me shit for watching him like a freak. His voice is raspy and quiet as I nod my head, grabbing the shampoo and washing my hair. When it’s lathered, I pull my knees up and together. My cheeks heat as I duck under the water to do my best to rinse it out without showing Cooper every intimate part of me.

  When I come back up, I see he has his knees pulled up too, trying to give me room.

  “This is so fucking awkward. I haven’t bathed with anyone since I was a toddler.”

  He laughs, “And here I thought we’d bathed with the same person.” I’m about to kill him for suggesting he’s bathed with my sister but realize that wouldn’t make sense. He grins. “What? You and Liam didn’t bathe together?”

  I roll my eyes at his lame ass joke, but it does make me smile. “If you tell me you took baths with my boyfriend, I might kill you.”

  He laughs, but it’s slightly sad because everything goes back to our roots and who we are. I was Liam’s girlfriend. He was his best friend, like a brother. And what we’re doing now is fucked up. “Nah, he was more of a shower guy.”

  I toss the shampoo bottle at him, and he catches it with a laugh. This one sounds more real, more like the Coop I know.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “Always and forever. Don’t forget it.” He’s more serious now as he lathers his short hair with one hand and quickly dunks under the water, not seeming to care about modesty whatsoever.

  That’s Cooper for you though.

  I condition my hair, quickly rinse, and then shave, keeping my feet planted in the water. It’s not easy to shave while I keep my legs together. I shave under my arms quickly, feeling his eyes on my breasts.

  I take a deep breath and meet his eyes, the whole thing erotic and awful all at once.

  He climbs out of the tub, wrapping his t-shirt from yesterday around him. “We should wash clothes today.”

  “With dirty water?”

  “I guess we could use cold only.”

&nbs
p; I nod my head. “Okay.”

  He leaves, and I finish washing up before I climb out and dry off with my old shirt from yesterday, wishing like hell we had some towels.

  What a strange thing to wish for in our situation.

  I dress in a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweater before heading out into the living room to see Cooper is only in a pair of jeans slung low over his hips. His hair is still wet, and he’s staring out the window.

  “Why aren’t you fully dressed?”

  I hate that I focus on the V of his waist, on his tattoos, and on his muscles. I really need him to get dressed for my sanity. He turns to me, looking pale. “I need you to do something for me.”

  He looks too damn serious, and I don’t like it.

  Not at all.

  She looks nervous standing across the room from me, her eyes wide and her long hair down and still wet from the bath. “What do you need?”

  “You won’t like it,” I tell her, knowing I’m right.

  She crosses her arms, studying me anxiously. “What?”

  I grab the whiskey bottle from the side table and take a swig before looking at her. “I need you to set my shoulder.”

  Her eyes widen even more, and she’s already shaking her head. “No.”

  “Ev, I need you too. Pulling my shirt off and on is fucking agony. I can’t help as much as I need to with the firewood and the buckets.”

  “You do half, and I do half. That’s the way it should be.”

  “It hurts. All the time. It throbs. It needs to be set or it’s going to be fucked up forever.” I know she doesn’t want to do this, and I don’t want to either. I’ve been avoiding this since the accident, but I can’t ignore it anymore.

  When I tried to pull a shirt on a moment ago, I almost passed out from the pain. The fucker hurts, and it needs to be dealt with. She’s still shaking her head from side to side, and it would be comical if my heart wasn’t pounding so goddamn fast. “No. It should be done by a doctor.”

  “I’m pre-med. I can walk you through it. Besides, you’re surgeon spawn. It’ll be fine.” I don’t believe myself, but I try to appear confident because I need her help. “I can’t do it myself.”