Page 275 of Burn Bright

When he’d first introduced himself, she’d asked, “You’re a Cobalt, as in that famous family?”

Even my aunt knows of the Cobalts. After confirmation that he is, indeed, of that renowned lineage, she’d gasped and said, “Harry!” As if I hit a jackpot, and I definitely did, but not because Ben has money or fame. By the end of the call, she made an offhanded mention about my mom. Reminding me to keep her blocked.

“I know what your aunt would believe,” Ben says. “But what does Harriet Fisher believe in?”

I want to be closer, so I straddle his lap. His hands fall to my hips, and I clutch his neck while my knees dig into the mattress. “Scientifically speaking, there is no way to verify whether your memory was of me or not. Even if we figured out that we were at the park on the same exact day.”

“Yeah,” he nods, not disagreeing with the logic.

“But…it’s a really beautiful belief.” I search his eyes while he searches mine, as if scavenging for more fragments of each other, more pieces of us together littered over time. Of course he’d want to pick them up. Cradle them. Protect them, and I’d want Ben to share them with me too.

I clutch his cheeks, my finger brushing over his beauty mark, as I stare deeper into Ben. “My childhood memories aren’t ones I like visiting. What makes me want to look back for the first time is the knowledge that you might’ve always been there. Out of all this bleakness, there was a star.”

“Two stars,” he breathes. “You were never dull, Harriet. Not to me.”

“Two stars,” I agree, trying not to get choked up. “And no matter what choices we made, we were always orbiting. We were always going to collide over and over again. Until we ended up here. We’re destined for each other, Cobalt boy. That’s what I believe in. Because it makes me happy, and I want to believe in things that bring me stupid amounts of joy.”

He cups my cheeks like I’m cupping his. “I think I can get behind this.”

“Really?” He believes in the butterfly effect. His actions can change events. Fate is relinquishing control to the universe.

“I don’t know how else to explain the photo, but I’m not explaining it away. I want to be fated to be with you. But more than anything, I just want to be with you, Harriet. Fuck everything else.”

I smile off of his. We pull each other into a crushing kiss. He lifts me up against his chest, and I gasp into his lips as he brings my back to the mattress. I’m underneath him. His warmth, his love, his heart.

We tangle into deeper, emotional kisses. Our limbs like knotted branches of a tree, wrapping, weaving. We root to the earth. We plant into the ground.

We are bent, gnarled, twisted things.

And we’ll thrive as we grow together. As one.

63

BEN COBALT

Tom has his hands out like he’s grasping a ball of reason in the air. “Dude, I say this with all the love in my veins?—”

“In his veins,” I emphasize to Eliot while I hit the elevator button to take us up to the 21stfloor.

Eliot grins at me, but we’re listening as Tom finishes, “Ben should not be your roommate.” It’s the fifth time he’s shared these sentiments just this morning alone.

We all look like we rolled out of bed. Hair a little unkempt. Drawstring pants on (the kind I slept in). I’m not even wearing a shirt. We did just wake up about ten minutes ago. The three of us went to the lobby to grab our mail. Our bodyguards sifted through it already to trash any threatening letters or used panties (Charlie gets those allthe time). Normally they bring it up to us, but there was miscommunication on the security team, and it ended up at the front desk.

As the elevator brings us back upstairs, Eliot says, “I’m much better roommate material, Tom. You play music at all hours. You’ll disrupt his sleep.”

“Iwill disrupt his sleep?” Tom touches his chest. “You fuck at all hours.”

I almost laugh, but I can’t tell if this is becoming heated between them in an aggravated way. They rarely,rarelyfight, and I’m a little worried this might start one.

“An exaggeration,” Eliot says to me, then to Tom, “Not even I can fuck 24/7, brother. Physically impossible.”

“Eliot Alice, listen. Ben’s just going to get kicked out of his room every other night because of your hookups. He’s going to end up on the couch. Exactly where we don’t want him to be.”

I glide my fingers through my messy hair. “I don’t mind crashing on the pull-out. It’s really not a big deal?—”

“No,” they say in unison.

Eliot rests a hand on the elevator wall as he faces Tom. No shirt, Eliot’s cut muscles flex to where I’d believe he was admiring himself in the mirror. But the mirror is actually behind him. “I don’tneedsex,” he says. “The rate at which I bring girls over will drastically decrease when Ben rooms with me.”