I jerk my head, straightening as he barrels out of the shop. Shit.

“Off!” he barks. “Now!”

I park the bike and climb off, trying to hide my smile.

He stalks over to us, looking at the McDougall bikes. “Great. Now they’re dirty,” he growls. “I have to clean them again— No, you know what? You’re cleaning them.” He points to Kaleb and then me, too. “You’re both cleaning them!”

“We were going to,” I tell him, taking off my helmet. “You want some pancakes or something?”

He cocks an eyebrow and turns around, ignoring my sudden change in subject.

I throw a look at Kaleb. He just shakes his head.

Jake’s moods have spiraled lately, and I’m worried it’s my fault. Is he feeling guilty? Is he concerned for me? Is he jealous?

I haven’t had a chance to talk to him. Kaleb and I are always together.

Or Kaleb makes sure we’re always together.

Not that I’d choose to have it any other way. I just hope he trusts that I’m well aware of who I’m in love with, and he doesn’t need to worry about his father and brother around me.

I jog after Jake. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are.”

He heads over to the tool bench and picks up what he needs before turning to another work-in-progress.

He won’t look at me.

“I’m happy,” I tell him, because I know that’s what he really cares about.

“I know.”

So what is it, then? I stand there, feeling Kaleb walk past me to the sink. He washes his hands, but I know he’s watching us.

“Just…don’t get pregnant,” he finally grits out. “You’re only eighteen.”

“I know,” I assure him. “I won’t.”

“And you’re going to college.”

“I will.”

I think.

He glares at the bike he’s working on, seething. “And tell that woman,” he bites out, closing his eyes like the mere mention of her is going to send him over the edge, “that if she doesn’t stop calling every other day just to get in my face and ruin my goddamn peace of mind with all her questions and arrogant little comebacks, that I will burn every cell phone and computer in this house, so she can’t ever get a hold of you again! And then I’ll put up an electric fence in time for the snow to melt so she can’t get on the property!”

I fold my lips between my teeth, holding my breath, because my laughter is about to burst out.

So that’s what’s wrong. Mirai calls to talk to me, but she calls way more often than is necessary. And if I don’t answer, she calls his phone.

The best part is…as frustrated as he sounds, he always answers.

They fight every time. No one riles him up so much. Not even us.

I choke down my amusement and nod. “I’ll tell her.”

He throws a wrench on the work bench and picks up another. Kaleb and I head into the house.

“Change that lightbulb!” Jake yells after us before we close the door.

I let out a laugh and Kaleb smiles, placing a peck on my forehead.

He walks to the cabinet and digs out a lightbulb, winking at me as he heads for the staircase.

The scent of the cinnamon rolls I put in the oven a half hour ago fills the air, and I shut off the timer, with only seconds left, and dig out the baking dish.

Shutting off the oven, I set the rolls down on a cooling rack and glance over at Kaleb as he hops onto the railing and then climbs onto a rafter to start scaling his way up to the chandelier. One bulb has been out for days. My heart skips a beat, watching him go higher and higher.

“Oh, that smells good,” Noah says, entering the kitchen.

I spare him a glance, but I can’t take my attention off Kaleb. “Be careful up there,” I call out to him.

I finally look away and grab a slicing knife out of the block, cutting the rolls. Noah hangs by the island, staring at me.

“So, the snow’s easing up a little,” he says.

I add a little milk to the icing I made this morning and stir it, heating it over an open flame.

“Yeah.” It’s only late February, though, so winter is far from over.

I can’t help but wish it was still November, and winter was just starting.

“Is all your coursework done?” he asks.

I turn off the burner and carry the icing over to the dish, dripping it over the rolls.

“They’re waiving my exams, but I have to write an essay and submit it with a photo journal by April thirtieth.”

I see him nod out of the corner of my eye. “I’m going to L.A. this spring,” he says. “I’ve got a meeting with a sponsor, and I want to check out the scene there. Can I stay with you?”

Stay with me?

And then I remember—as if I’d actually forgotten—that I have a house there. I told them I was leaving in April, didn’t I?

“Yeah,” I reply, barely audible. “Of course, you can stay at the house. As long as you want.”

I just might not be there.

He may as well use the place, though.

He’s quiet, and I don’t have the courage to look at him. I know he’s worried. Maybe a little angry. He deserves better.

He’s taken the high road through everything. He’s backed off and let me be happy.

But that doesn’t mean he’s stopped caring. Part of me misses talking to him, too. He expects differently of me, and he won’t be happy with me if I decide to stay behind. Things have changed, though.

Inching in, he lowers his voice as Kaleb works far above us. “I would fight anyone who wronged my brother,” he says. “I do love him, Tiernan, but this life is not for you. You’re leaving with me.”

My chin trembles, because I’m worried that he has a point.

“I love you,” he whispers. “As your cousin, as your friend, whatever, but I’m dragging you out of here, because when the novelty of this wears off, you’re going to miss the world. He will make you miserable.”

I dart my eyes up to him, the icing pouring all over one roll, and I want him to stop. How can he say that? That’s his brother.

His blue eyes narrow on me. “He needs someone braindead who doesn’t care about dying in this town where nothing changes except the seasons,” he tells me. “You might not have cared before, but I know there’s a whole wide world you wouldn’t mind seeing now. He’s too volatile, too stubborn, and he will never leave this peak, Tiernan. Ever.”

I look away, blinking against the stinging at the backs of my eyes. Damn you, Noah.

“You want more.” He takes the pot out of my hand and sets it down. “I know you do.”

Maybe. Maybe I want to see and experience things and have a career and try to make the world better and leave my mark.

Or maybe none of that would be worthwhile without someone to share it with.

I look at Noah, always knowing in my head that, in many ways, he’s better for me.

He’s my head. The part of me that tells me what I already know. What I need to hear.

My heart, though… It feels everything I can’t live without.

I tip my head back, gazing up at Kaleb as he stares down at us, having finished the lightbulb.