Resist Me (Change Me Book One - standalone): McCoy Raven Boys by A.O. Peart Page A

photos. Nash looked almost identical as the twins, and all of the brothers, with the exception of Colton, seemed as if they were same age. Not only their facial features and hair were so much alike, but their body type was totally the same. I wondered how it would feel to be surrounded by that many gorgeous males who shared such perfect genes. Probably very confusing.  
    I picked the photo of Ethan and Nash, each holding a huge fish and a fishing pole. They were grinning, looking carefree and suntanned. “When was this one taken?” I asked.  
    “Last summer in Key West. Nash and I went on a fishing trip with the twins. You see that fish? It was a good catch,” he sounded proud.
    The scales on both fish shone silver in the bright Florida sun. I longed for that sun. I longed for my life there—the life I had before the nightmare had started. I put the photo back on the mantel and kept staring at it.  
    “You miss it,” Ethan said quietly.  
    I looked at him and nodded. Tears blurred my vision, and I turned away, hiding them from him.  
    “Hey.” He touched my arm.  
    A shiver ran through me, stirring more yearning inside. This time it wasn’t the yearning for my home town. “I’m okay.” I put on a smile and blinked the tears away. I had to stay strong—on all fronts.        
    “Do you want to see the rest of the place?” he asked.  
    “Oh, sure, I would love to.” I nodded maybe too eagerly.
    “Kitchen is right there.” He pointed and walked away from the fireplace.  
    I followed. The kitchen was quite roomy. There was a lot of counter space, a fridge in the corner, and a solid-looking, square table with four heavy chairs. It was one of those tables that could be made bigger by placing an insert in its middle. There must have been more chairs for it somewhere then, maybe in some storage outside?  
    But the most eye-catching object was an old wood-burning stove, standing against the red brick wall. It has been obviously restored, because it looked clean and shiny. The stove was black with a nickel trim and antique handles. A large name plate adorned, what I assumed, was the oven door. It read QUAKER PRIZE. The stove stood on a short, stocky base decorated with elaborate scrolls.  
    I walked closer and ran my hand over the front of the stove. “This is really cool. Looks antique. Is it?”  
    “I guess anything over a hundred years old can be safely called an antique, right? This stove belonged to my great grandma, Olivia, Grannie Ruth’s mother. I had to nag Grandma Ruth for two years to give it to me, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Finally, when I left the Marines and bought this cabin, she decided it was a good home for her family heirloom.”  
    Ethan opened the little door with the QUAKER PRIZE plate and continued, “Here’s the oven. Like the rest of this stove, it works perfect. I even bake bread in it sometimes.”  
    “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this up close. It’s really cool. So that’s what you needed the chopped wood for?”
    “Yeah. And for the fire pit, to make s’mores.” He smiled a little. Gotta have s’mores by the lake.  
    “You’re going to make s’mores?” I laughed.  
    “Of course. Why not?” He shrugged. “So how do you like my kitchen? I did the whole remodel here with Nash and my cousin Jack. The one you met today.”
    “It looks wonderful. There is so much light in here,” I praised. It was a cheerful kind of place, with its off-white cabinets and a beige granite tile on the countertops. One wall was done in red brick, while the others were covered in wooden planks.  
    Two windows, facing the Lake let in a lot of daylight. Ethan didn’t have any curtains in them, just the simple, wide-plank wooden blinds, as I would expect from a guy.  
    “Okay, let me show you the upstairs,” he said.  
    I followed.  

Chapter Thirteen

    ETHAN  

    Lisbeth looked around the cabin with such an appreciation in her eyes. She seemed