Page 99 of Never After Us
But Mara ...oh, Mara slipped in quietly.Through vinyls.Through tears.Through the way she tries so hard to be bright even when she’s breaking inside.Through the kid who trusts me without hesitation.Through the nights I stay because I can’t walk away.
My throat works around this new discovery.
Dexter’s voice cuts through, gentler now.“You’re falling, man.”
I look at him.I hate how right he is.
Because this isn’t just attraction.It’s not about wanting her naked in my bed, though I do.It’s her voice in my ear when she’s tired.Her back to me while she makes tea.Her shoulder brushes mine when she forgets to pull away.
It’s wanting to kiss her—not because I can, but because it would mean something.Because the moment our mouths touched, it wouldn’t be about sex or timing or need.It would be about all the ways I’ve already started to belong to her without even realizing it.
I don’t know what to do with that.
And it fucking scares me too much to ever want to go back home to her—to them.
ChapterThirty-Two
Alec
Last night, I didn’t go home.
I crashed at the Reznor abode so we could finish tracking vocals and tighten a few transitions before Barret disappears this weekend with Cleo and Eddie.It made sense—logically.Working, staying focused, and using music like a shield has always worked.
And it did—mostly.Because losing myself in reverb and static is still the best way to shut everything else out.
By the time I wake up the next morning, I feel wired.Determined.Like a guy who’s going to conquer shit before noon.I have the energy reserved for people running marathons or quitting something cold turkey.I’ve done the latter more times than I care to admit.And in a burst of brilliance or delusion, I decide that yes, I’m getting attached and probably falling—but I can undo it just as easily.People detach from things every day in ways and fall out of love easily, don’t they?
They’ve been here for what?Eight weeks?
Seven weeks and five days, you idiot.Like you’re not counting.
Fine.I know exactly how long they’ve been here.But as of this morning, I’m building new boundaries.
Today, I am a fortress.
No.Fuck that—today, I’m a goddamn island.
I get up, shower, and change into the emergency clothes Eddie insists on keeping for me in the guest room—“In case you crash here again,” he said.I eat a bowl of cereal before the rest of the house wakes up, because the last thing I need is to accidentally feed the herd.
As I head for the door, I tell myself avoiding them—my family and Mara—is totally reasonable.It isn’t cowardice.It’s smart.Logical.Healthy, even.
Then why the hell does something inside me feel ...off?
Why does it feel like I’ve gone a day without oxygen?
It’s not normal, how much I noticed her absence yesterday.Or how I kept looking at the clock, wondering if she’d text.Or how Mila’s voice kept replaying in my head, rearranging my whole day like I was supposed to be on frog-duty or snack patrol.
Probably.
No, definitely.
It’s as if something in me rewired itself around them without asking.And the worst part is, I didn’t even fight it.I let it happen.I wanted it.
And now?It’s quiet.Too quiet.
I turn on the radio to drown it out—only to get hit with “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” like the universe has a fucking sense of humor.As if I needed a stadium anthem reminding me that yeah, I’d probably walk five hundred miles just to hear her laugh again in that half-sleepy voice she uses when she forgets to protect herself.
Great.Fantastic.Exactly what I need to start my fucking morning.
