Page 51 of Find Me

I broke our kiss as Colt’s hands went to my hips. I froze again, unsure what to do. I had kissed him last night and had just kissed Creed right in front of him.

Creed’s gaze met his brother’s over my head. He shrugged. “She was freaking out. I panicked.”

Colt sighed behind me. “Did you not think for a moment that kissing her might freak her out more?”

“Why?” Creed smirked. “Because you kissed her last night?”

I desperately wanted to curse again.

“Yes, because I kissed her last night,” Colt snapped. “She’s not ready—”

“Oh-my-lanta, please don’t fight,” I begged. “I’m sorry. We won’t kiss ever again. We should chalk up all the kissing to curiosity amongst friends. Or better yet, how about we forget any kissing happened at all?”

They both frowned at me. “Why?” they asked at the same time.

Frustrated, I rubbed my cheeks dry. “You know why. There’s two of you and one of me. You’re going to make me choose and I refuse to do that.”

Creed opened his mouth to say something, but Colt spoke before him. “We’ll circle back to the kissing situation at a later time. Right now, we need to talk about you pushing us away.”

Tired of standing on my knees, I plopped down on my butt. “Like I said, I’m a mess.”

I desperately wanted to move on with my life. It was why I’d been so happy when Colt and Creed had come into my life. I hadn’t thought that becoming closer with others would grant them the ability to see things about me I’d thought no one would ever see. I had been naive to think I could hide it.

“Everyone is a mess. Some are just better at hiding it than others,” Creed said.

I shook my head. “You’re both perfect.”

They both scoffed and shook their heads.

“I promise, babe, we’re not,” Colt said.

I gave them a doubtful look.

Creed sighed and sat next to me. “I hate being on the swim team. Actually, no, I hate competing. Our dad died the first time we competed at state during our freshman year.” As he spoke, he got this sad, faraway look. “It’s a high achievement to make it to state,” he continued. “I remember looking out at the stands, feeling angry that he wasn’t there to support us. He’d never missed a competition and it pissed me off that he was missing what I thought would be the most important competition in my life. We both came home with medals around our necks to find out that he’d been on his way to see us compete, but never made it. Someone had sped through a red light and T-boned him. His car had been reduced to a crushed tin can and he’d died instantly.”

I took his hand, then Colt’s and gave them a little squeeze.

“I’ve hated competing ever since,” Creed continued. “I do it because it’s what he would have wanted, and it will help me get into college and all that bullshit. But…whenever we’re at practice and Coach is yelling at us to do better, I just want to scream that I don’t care. I don’t care if I win or I lose. My life isn’t ‘live and breathe swim’ anymore.”

“What do you live and breathe for now?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t found it yet.”

“We still have bad days and we’re still dealing with his loss,” Colt said, sullen. “We were kind of young when our mother died, but Keelan and Knox weren’t. They took her death really hard and losing our dad…” Colt trailed off, looking away with pain in his eyes. He cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say is that the four of us know what it’s like to struggle in the trenches of our grief. It’s how we know that’s what you’re going through now.”

“And why would you want to deal with that?” I asked. “Most people would walk away.”

Colt frowned. “Would you walk away from us?”

No. I wouldn’t.

Colt had made a point. I wanted to be reassured, but without knowing the full extent of my trauma, they didn’t truly understand what they were getting into with me. That thought made me sick to my stomach.

They didn’t want to leave, and even though I knew things between us would eventually end, I couldn’t bring myself to be the one to walk away. That left me with one choice. I was going to cherish every moment I had with them, for however long our friendship lasted.

I looked at Creed. He had shared something that I knew must have been hard for him to share. I owed it to him to share something. “I was dreaming about my mom. That night…” I paused, thinking over my next words carefully. “I had to watch her—” I looked toward the ceiling to keep more tears from falling. “I had to watch her die, unable to do anything.”

I saw the question they were getting ready to ask. It was written all over their faces.