“You know this how? Because you guys are so close? Face it, Bronwyn,
none of us really know each other. Hell,
you
could’ve done it. You’re smart
enough to plan something this messed up and get away with it.”
I’m kidding, but Bronwyn goes rigid. “How can you say that?” Her cheeks
get red, giving her that flushed look that always unsettles me.
She’ll surprise
you one day with how pretty she is.
My mother used to say that about Bronwyn.
My mother was wrong, though. There’s nothing surprising about it.
“Eli said it himself, right?” I say. “Anything’s possible. Maybe you brought
me here to shove me down the hill and break my neck.”
“You brought
me
here,” Bronwyn points out. Her eyes widen, and I laugh.
“Oh, come on. You don’t actually think— Bronwyn, we’re barely on an
incline. Pushing you off this rock isn’t much of an evil plan if all you’d do is
twist your ankle.”
“That’s not funny,” Bronwyn says, but a smile twitches at her lips. The
afternoon sun’s making her glow, putting glints of gold in her dark hair, and
for a second I almost can’t breathe.
Jesus. This girl.
I stand and hold out my hand. She gives me a skeptical look, but takes it and
lets me pull her to her feet. I put my other hand in the air. “Bronwyn Rojas, I
solemnly swear not to murder you today or at any point in the future. Deal?”
“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters, going even redder.
“It concerns me you’re avoiding a promise not to murder me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Do you say that to all the girls you bring here?”
Huh. Maybe she knows Marshall’s Peak’s reputation after all.
I move closer until there’s only a couple of inches between us. “You’re still
not answering my question.”
Bronwyn leans forward and brings her lips to my ear. She’s so close I can
feel her heart beating when she whispers, “I promise not to murder you.”
“That’s hot.” I mean it as a joke, but my voice comes out like a growl and
when her lips part I kiss her before she can laugh. A shock of energy shoots
through me as I cup her face in my hands, my fingers grasping her cheeks and
the line of her jaw. It must be the adrenaline that’s making my heart pound so
fast. The whole nobody-else-could-possibly-understand-this bond. Or maybe
it’s her soft lips and green apple–scented hair, and the way she winds her arms
around my neck like she can’t stand to let go. Either way I keep kissing her as
long as she lets me, and when she steps away I try to pull her back because it
wasn’t enough.
“Nate, my phone,” she says, and for the first time I notice a persistent, jangly
text tone. “It’s my sister.”
“She can wait,” I say, tangling a hand in her hair and kissing along her
jawline to her neck. She shivers against me and makes a little noise in her
throat. Which I like.
“It’s just …” She runs her fingertips across the back of my neck. “She
wouldn’t keep texting if it weren’t important.”
Maeve’s our excuse—she and Bronwyn are supposed to be at Yumiko’s
house together—and I reluctantly step back so Bronwyn can reach down and
dig her phone out of her backpack. She looks at the screen and draws in a
quick, sharp breath. “Oh God. My mom’s trying to reach me too. Robin says
