Just the thought of it all made her tired.
She worried her lip and took in his broad back as he faced away from her and gazed at the blizzard outside. It had been so long since she’d just taken him in like this. He was at once both familiar and a stranger.
There were things buried deep inside her memory that were suddenly brought back to life, like the small birthmark behind his right ear. Or the unbelievable V-shape which framed his hips that had become even more pronounced as he’d matured.
There were new things, too. Details that almost knocked the breath out of her. He’d always had a bit of a scruff in high school, but it had developed into a full-blown and permanent five o’clock shadow. His jaw had become even more square.
If this wasn’t King, the same King who had broken her heart, she’d fall in lust with him in an instant.
Get it together, Effie, she told herself. You read too many romance books.
That’s what her mom and Yaya said, at least.
Relationships aren’t just about two people, she reminded herself. Maybe they were right. She was quick to fall, to imagine what kind of fairytale taking a particular path might lead to.
And what had that gotten her? Inching towards her mid-twenties and only been with two men—two brothers, to be exact.
She’d watched as her college girlfriends had hookups and one-night stands. They gave her crap about her long-distance, steady boyfriend, but when they met Thorne that shut them up.
How many of them were dating a gorgeous, wealthy, golden boy? None of them.
“…up to four feet in higher elevations…” the radio continued.
Suddenly, she felt a weight fall into her lap. Effie hadn’t even noticed that King had swooped in on her.
“Might as well stay entertained,” he said. She looked down and saw one of the romance novels she’d grabbed from Thorne’s condo in her lap. “I can’t believe you still read this shit.”
“Hey,” she said, defensive. Effie looked up into those steely eyes. “At least I read.”
King laughed. “You don’t know anything about me, Effie. Not anymore.”
“And you think you know me?”
“I know you still read the same drivel you did in high school. I know you spent the day walking the trails by the creek—”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know you,” he said pointedly.
King leaned down. It made Effie’s breath catch in her throat, but she refused to move or look away.
“And I know neither of us are surprised at what my asshole of a brother did. You deserve better.”
“You don’t know me,” she said. “You knew a little girl, a long time ago.”
King looked at her for a long moment.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said finally, and rose slowly.
“King?” she asked. “I, uhm. I know you don’t owe me any favors, okay? But I’d be really grateful if you didn’t tell anyone I was here.”
“Who would I tell?” he asked. “And how? You think I’m going to send a carrier pigeon into the city?”
King began to prod at the lingering orange in the fireplace as Effie’s eyelids got heavy. By the time the fire roared again and covered her face in heat, she felt nearly drugged.
The woods, the blizzard, and King had taken it all out of her.
As she felt herself slip into oblivion, she thought she felt a warm blanket thrown over her body.
4
King
King laid in bed and watched the darkness outside turn to pastel. He hadn’t slept the entire night, too on edge knowing Effie was just a few steps away.
He peeled himself out of bed and looked onto the glittery wonderland below. It was fairer than he’d expected. Not as much snow on the ground as the reports warned. But it was still coming down.
And knowing Effie, she doesn’t have snow tires, studs, or chains.
Still, King let out a sigh. Maybe the storm would be brief.
“And then I can get the fuck out of here,” he muttered under his breath.
He came up here to relax, not get trapped with the one person he’d spent the most time with in the cozy little cabin.
Or maybe that’s exactly why you keep coming back here, he thought to himself as he turned on the shower.
As he stretched and waited for the water to heat up, he winced at the pain. The bruises were still apparent, though they’d started to fade.
King leaned against the quartz counter and peered into his own eyes.
“Remember why you came here,” he told himself.
But why had he come here?
Maybe Effie had a little something to do with it. In high school, when they’d slipped away to the cabin he felt happy. Safe. Sure of where things were going.
And now he didn’t know what the hell he should be doing with his life.
Focus on that, not her, he reminded himself as he pulled down the flannel pajama bottoms and stepped into the nearly scalding heat.
Eyes closed, all he could see was her. How natural it had seemed when he stumbled upon her in the living room, almost like he was expecting her. Almost as if she belonged there.
King felt himself start to harden at the memory of her, skin bronzed in the light of the fire. She was even more gorgeous than she was in high school.
She had fuller breasts and wider hips but with that same flawless skin and spray of girlish freckles. There were just so many unanswered questions between then.
He turned his back to the spray of water and refused to let his hand wander to his length.
Why my brother, though? he thought, for what had to be the millionth time. Why not find someone else?
He got it, the whole appeal of making him jealous, but for this long? And to get engaged? King had spent years trying to find holes in their relationship, hints that Effie was attracted to Thorne.
It had always been obvious that Thorne was into Effie, but that hadn’t ever bothered him. But her? It just didn’t fit.
More importantly, why didn’t she just accept my ultimatum? he wondered.
But that was a question he couldn’t ever ask. The expiration date had long since passed.
King shut off the shower and stepped onto the radiant-heated floors. As he began to towel himself off, the same familiar tune that always entranced him got stuck in his brain.
He hummed Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, the song that dragged him back to his childhood and wouldn’t let him go no matter how hard he tried.
King couldn’t even begin to imagine how many afternoons he’d spent at the piano while the teacher slapped his knuckles with a ruler for any errant move. Thorne sat nearby, rigid in the wooden seat, waiting for his turn. With every slap of the rules, King could see Thorne close his eyes as if it hurt him just as badly.
He