I thought back to the first time we met. Cole and I had accidentally surprised her as she was wandering down a strawberry row that’d just been picked, holding a ripe berry to her lips. She’d jolted when we’d stepped out in front of her, her eyes wide and her mouth stopping mid-chew.
“That strawberry belongs to us,” Cole had teased, holding out his hand. “You have to give it back.”
She hadn’t understood that he was kidding and her face had grown pale, her beautiful light green eyes blinking up at him. I watched the exchange, wordless, mesmerized by her pretty oval face, the soft vulnerability in her gaze, and something inside me, which I had no idea how to identify, went completely, utterly still. I felt a constriction in my chest and I suddenly wanted to push Cole aside, to step in front, to protect her from him, from the world, from anything hard and hurtful that might potentially harm her. The feeling confused me and made me pause, unsure of what to do or where the sudden urge had come from.
Then she’d leaned forward, opened her mouth and let the chewed-up strawberry plop wetly onto Cole’s outstretched hand. For a moment, he and I had stared at it in shocked silence and then Cole had shouted with laughter, doubling over and almost falling on the ground. Maybe we’d both loved her from that first moment—though Cole was never one to be stingy with his affections. Cole loved everyone. Cole loved the whole wide world.
And the whole world loved him, too. Though his teasing could go a bit too far, it was always obvious he never meant any true harm.
We’d begun spending time with her whenever we could after that, seeking her out among the rows of strawberry plants. Even though our mom disapproved of our friendship and told us to stop running around with her, we didn’t. Our mom disapproved of almost everything, but Lia’s sweetness and easy smile were far too appealing.
“I’m going to miss this place someday,” she said, looking around, shooting Cole a smile. It was their thing, their inside joke. Jealousy bubbled up inside me, and I tried my best to squash it.
“Yeah?” Cole asked, winking at her. “Why? Where are you going to be?”
She shrugged, turning her body toward us. I willed my eyes not to move down to her T-shirt where I knew I’d see the outline of her bra, maybe even her small, hardened nipples. I shifted where I was sitting, trying to relieve that damn ache.
“Anywhere else,” she murmured, looking out to the small creek where we’d been coming since we were little kids. “Maybe I’ll move to Italy and grow grapes.”
Or you could marry me and grow strawberries, I wanted to say, but that sounded stupid, even in my own head. And not much of an offer. My father had made that same offer to my mother once upon a time, and she’d taken him up on it and look how that had turned out—two people who could barely stand to be in the same room as the other. Not that Lia was anything like my mom, but still.
Lia and Cole had always talked about where they were going to go when they left the Central Valley. It wasn’t big enough for them. They always wanted . . . more. And in a way I understood them both. Of course Lia would want to get out of here and experience something other than the life of poverty she’d led so far. And as for Cole, he was my brother, my twin—I’d listened to him talk about the places he wanted to go, the things he wanted to see, since we could talk. But I also wondered if any place was big enough for Cole—he was always running after more, always wanting new experiences that would trump the old ones. And he was always devising ways to get what he wanted. I had no doubt he’d hold the world in his hands if that’s what he decided to go after.
Cole laid back on the rock and put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. In a few minutes he was breathing deeply, and I knew he was asleep. He’d been out the night before with Shayna Daws, and he’d snuck into the room we shared close to three, smelling like beer and Shayna’s perfume. It was no wonder he was exhausted.
Quietly, I moved over to the rock Lia was sitting on and gestured toward the piece of sea glass. It was pale aqua, the edges smoothed by the water. And it did look like a heart. “Kind of reminds me of your eyes.”
She turned that pale gaze my way, looking at me with a sweet smile on her lips. “My eyes?” she asked softly.
“The color,” I murmured. “It’s so unusual. Beautiful.”
A small frown flitted over her face before she seemed to force a smile and looked back to the heart she was holding. Had I said something wrong? Taking the glass between the thumb and index fingers of both hands, she snapped it in half. I jolted slightly, not understanding the action, and then she turned and handed me one half. She took my hand and I felt a small spark at the contact of our skin. Her eyes lingered for a moment on our hands before she said, “Someday I’m going to leave here, but a part of my heart is going to remain. With you.”
My breath caught. I took the small piece of broken glass and put it in the pocket of my swim trunks. When I looked back at her, her gaze was running down my naked chest. Her eyes blinked up to mine and her cheeks filled with color before she looked away, back down to where she held her own half of the glass heart. Was she looking at me with the same awareness that I watched her? At the mere possibility, my whole body suddenly felt far too hot. My eyes moved to her mouth—those full luscious lips with the small beauty mark at the corner—and I grew painfully hard. I wanted to kiss her so badly. It was a yearning not only in my body but in my heart.
“Why do you have to leave?” I asked. “You could stay.”