kind that he put on. “Thanks, but I need to go.”
“Okay.”
She followed him to the front door and leaned on the newel post at the foot of the stairs leading to the second floor. She watched as he dressed in his winter gear. When he was done, he came back to her and closed his gloved hand over her hip. “I’m glad I stopped here tonight. It was a bad night, and you made it good. Thank you.”
She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. At her touch, he closed his eyes. “Are you okay, Nolan?”
His eyes opened, and he put on another smile. “I’m always okay.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
Instead of replying, Nolan took hold of the hand she’d laid on his cheek. He kissed her palm. “Happy New Year, Iris.”
As he stepped into the cold and dark, Iris, holding the door, said, “Be safe.”
He walked away without answering.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Despite the cold, and the fact that it was only a couple of hours before dawn, Nolan rode out to Ani’s hill after he left Iris. He didn’t know why that was where he was going, except that it was where he needed to go.
He parked and tromped over the frozen earth. The brittle blades of dead grass crackled under his feet.
What they needed was a good snowstorm. They’d barely had a flurry yet, and even though it would mean he’d finally have to put up his bike, Nolan wanted it to snow. All this arctic cold had turned the world into a grey, barren wasteland, and the air seemed restless, like a beast pacing overhead. A heavy snowfall—at least six inches—would bring bright serenity back, at least for a little while.
He sat at his place on the hill and looked up at a clear sky. The stars had just begun to fade into the emerging dawn.
“Hey, Ani,” he said, and for the first time, he felt like he’d spoken the words to nothing by the sky.
He’d never thought she was actually listening; it was why he’d never sat up here and held a conversation with a ghost. But she was star stuff, and he’d always felt closer to her when he sat under this huge dome of stars.
On this night, he didn’t feel closer to her. He didn’t feel her at all.
He yanked off his glove and shoved his hand into his coat, under his shirt and thermal, and he got hold of the cord and pulled her little star out into the night.
“Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the star. “I love you. Don’t leave. Don’t. Please don’t.”
All he felt was ache. He’d said the same words the night he’d held her in his arms while she tried to breathe and couldn’t. The night she’d faded from her eyes.
His shoulders sagged, curling forward, and he set his head in his hands. Fuck, if he lost this, if he lost her, there would be nothing left in his heart but dust.
He didn’t know how long he sat like that, with his face in his hands and his head empty of anything but angry sorrow. Maybe he’d even slept a little. When he came back into the present moment, his first active thought was the realization that he’d been thinking, or dreaming, of Iris. Of that kiss in the kitchen. The feel of her body in his hands. Her mouth under his. Her tongue on his. The sound of her breath in his ear. The way he could feel her need, the heat of her on his leg.
He was sitting on Ani’s hill, feeling desperate and afraid that he’d finally, fully lost her, and now he was hard, thinking of Iris. That was so fucked up. He was so fucked up.
But he felt better. He lifted his head and saw that dawn had happened. He’d sat there, unmoving, for a long time. Until the stars had disappeared into a new morning sky.
Had Analisa left to make room for Iris?
That was a stupid, sappy, ridiculous thing to think.
But it felt a little bit true.
Nolan kissed the star he still held in his fingers and tucked it back under his shirt. “Love you, babe.”
He stood.
“Okay.”
She followed him to the front door and leaned on the newel post at the foot of the stairs leading to the second floor. She watched as he dressed in his winter gear. When he was done, he came back to her and closed his gloved hand over her hip. “I’m glad I stopped here tonight. It was a bad night, and you made it good. Thank you.”
She lifted her hand and cupped his cheek. At her touch, he closed his eyes. “Are you okay, Nolan?”
His eyes opened, and he put on another smile. “I’m always okay.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
Instead of replying, Nolan took hold of the hand she’d laid on his cheek. He kissed her palm. “Happy New Year, Iris.”
As he stepped into the cold and dark, Iris, holding the door, said, “Be safe.”
He walked away without answering.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Despite the cold, and the fact that it was only a couple of hours before dawn, Nolan rode out to Ani’s hill after he left Iris. He didn’t know why that was where he was going, except that it was where he needed to go.
He parked and tromped over the frozen earth. The brittle blades of dead grass crackled under his feet.
What they needed was a good snowstorm. They’d barely had a flurry yet, and even though it would mean he’d finally have to put up his bike, Nolan wanted it to snow. All this arctic cold had turned the world into a grey, barren wasteland, and the air seemed restless, like a beast pacing overhead. A heavy snowfall—at least six inches—would bring bright serenity back, at least for a little while.
He sat at his place on the hill and looked up at a clear sky. The stars had just begun to fade into the emerging dawn.
“Hey, Ani,” he said, and for the first time, he felt like he’d spoken the words to nothing by the sky.
He’d never thought she was actually listening; it was why he’d never sat up here and held a conversation with a ghost. But she was star stuff, and he’d always felt closer to her when he sat under this huge dome of stars.
On this night, he didn’t feel closer to her. He didn’t feel her at all.
He yanked off his glove and shoved his hand into his coat, under his shirt and thermal, and he got hold of the cord and pulled her little star out into the night.
“Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the star. “I love you. Don’t leave. Don’t. Please don’t.”
All he felt was ache. He’d said the same words the night he’d held her in his arms while she tried to breathe and couldn’t. The night she’d faded from her eyes.
His shoulders sagged, curling forward, and he set his head in his hands. Fuck, if he lost this, if he lost her, there would be nothing left in his heart but dust.
He didn’t know how long he sat like that, with his face in his hands and his head empty of anything but angry sorrow. Maybe he’d even slept a little. When he came back into the present moment, his first active thought was the realization that he’d been thinking, or dreaming, of Iris. Of that kiss in the kitchen. The feel of her body in his hands. Her mouth under his. Her tongue on his. The sound of her breath in his ear. The way he could feel her need, the heat of her on his leg.
He was sitting on Ani’s hill, feeling desperate and afraid that he’d finally, fully lost her, and now he was hard, thinking of Iris. That was so fucked up. He was so fucked up.
But he felt better. He lifted his head and saw that dawn had happened. He’d sat there, unmoving, for a long time. Until the stars had disappeared into a new morning sky.
Had Analisa left to make room for Iris?
That was a stupid, sappy, ridiculous thing to think.
But it felt a little bit true.
Nolan kissed the star he still held in his fingers and tucked it back under his shirt. “Love you, babe.”
He stood.
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