Page 29 of Almost Ravaged

My brother’s shoulders relax, and in response, my heart twinges.

Regardless of the time we’ve been apart, our connection is strong. Without fail, a niggling of anticipatory separation anxiety takes root inside both of us when we’re together, the dread of being separated again hanging over our heads. Maybe we’d feel this way regardless of what we’ve been through. Or maybe it’s the residual trauma that we may never shake.

Whatever the cause, it hurts. Just the idea of being apart from the guys for most of the afternoon, even though I’ll literally be in the same building, makes my stomach ache.

“Behave.” Atty kisses my head and gives me a quick squeeze in return before releasing me.

Ty’s eyes meet mine, his pupils blown out, a frenetic energy wafting off him. He gives me a quick once-over, then peers over my shoulder at the people working behind the counter.

My stomach twists a little tighter with concern.

Ty isn’t immune to the separation anxiety either.

Licking my lips, I reach out. Maybe hugging him right here in the middle of the ice arena is too bold, but the tether between us urges me forward. I can’t ignore the need to comfort him, even when I know damn well he won’t accept it because he doesn’t think he deserves it.

I just want to hold him. To place my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. To wrap my arms around him, hoping, wishing, waiting to see if he’ll hug me in return.

I shuffle half a step toward him.

He inhales sharply, then holds his breath.

Hoping.

Wishing.

Waiting.

My fingertips tingle, itching to touch—

“Let’s go, Tremblay,” Atty calls. “Ice is melting.”

Tytus blinks, his mask slipping back into place, all the trepidation warring behind his eyes evaporating. Then, wordlessly, he sidesteps me and follows my brother, leaving me alone once again.

Forget awesome.

I’m recategorizing this place to the homely type and adding annoying to its description. I’ve been hovering near the top of the stairs that lead down to the fireplace for several embarrassingly long minutes, debating with myself over where to sit.

Because of the way the lobby is designed, I’ll either have to sit to one side of the two people already settled down there or directly across from them, on the other side of the fireplace. Trouble is, the firebox, which is open to both sides, is massive. So if I sit across from them, it’ll be like watching them through a fishbowl.

Annoyed by my lack of executive functioning, I adjust my backpack and head for the far-left section.

Just as I’ve perched on the end of the lower bench, one of the people across from me speaks. “Open interviews don’t start for another two hours.”

“Oh.” I slide the straps of my backpack off my shoulders and make eye contact. “I’m not here for an interview. I was just going to…” I trail off.

Is it strange that I’m camping out for hours while my brother and his best friend practice? Maybe. Whatever. I’ll be spending a lot of time here, so I might as well introduce myself now.

“I’m going to hang out here and study while my brother and my friend are at practice. I’m Sawyer,” I offer, smiling tentatively.

“I’m Cameron.” The person closest to me has flawless light brown skin with a small sprinkle of freckles over the bridge of her nose. Her face is framed by tight black curls and a pair of feathery pink earrings that almost reach her shoulders. Her shirt is dark green, while her companion’s is a golden yellow.

“And this is Kai.” Cameron gives me a kind smile and thumbs to the person beside her. “Students don’t typically come here to hang out during the day.”

Based on her friendly expression, I don’t think she’s hinting that I can’t stay.

I scoot back a little, settling in. “You two work here, then?”

Cameron nods and sets her notebook aside. “Kai’s worked here since high school,” she says, crossing her legs. “Their mom oversees the Learn to Skate program.”