Chapter 21
CARTER
My apartment hasn’t felt this good in… honestly, maybe ever.
Maybe it’s the sunlight spilling across the bed in that soft, winter-gold way.
Maybe it’s the fact I slept through the night for once without bolting awake.
But mostly, it’s because Rhi is sprawled on her stomach beside me, laptop balanced on a pillow, her hair a messy dark halo across my sheets.
We’re supposed to be going through the field notes together.
We are technically “processing data.”
But the truth?
I’m processing absolutely nothing.
Because the curve of her very delicious ass is right in front of me, outlined perfectly by her leggings, and I am only human.
My hand is resting on the warm skin of her lower back where her shirt’s ridden up. I’m not doing anything. Not really. Just touching. Existing.
“Stop distracting me,” she murmurs, even though she’s smiling.
“I’m literally just lying here.”
“Your hand isn’t.”
“My hand is being extremely respectful.”
She snorts, but before she can fire back, she freezes.
Like—completely freezes.
Her finger lifts off the trackpad. She leans closer, squints at the graph, and whispers, “No way.”
That’s when I know something scientific has happened. Her voice goes soft and reverent, like she’s talking to God or magma.
She pushes up onto her elbows—raising her hips slightly, which does not help my situation—and zooms into a section of today’s readings.
“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Carter. Carter. Look.”
I scoot closer, though I’m focused on her face more than the data. Her eyes are huge, bright, alive.
“Do you see this gradient?” She points at the slope on the chart, almost vibrating. “The pH shift between Site Two and Three? I thought it was noise, but it’s not. It’s a clean acid-sulfate boundary.”
I blink. “I’m gonna need English.”
“It means the fluids are changing composition between those sites. Like—like the system is inhaling gases deeper down and then exhaling them as they mix with groundwater.”
I definitely didn’t follow all of that, but her excitement is honestly hotter than the leggings.
“This is so good for the paper,” she says, voice climbing. “This kind of alteration front hasn’t been documented in this region in decades. Bam is going to freak out.”
She’s already typing—fast. Her whole body is buzzing, energy radiating off her in waves. I could watch her do this for hours.
“Should I—uh—organize the photos?” I offer, trying to be helpful and not stare directly at her ass.
“You already did that.” She flicks me a grin. “Beautifully, actually. I’m impressed.”
My chest warms stupidly. “Well. I try.”
She isn’t listening anymore. She’s too busy firing off a paragraph-long email to Bam, muttering under her breath as she attaches graphs and annotations.
I swear she even forgets I’m here for a full minute.
Then she hits send with a little gasp and sits back, triumphant, cheeks flushed.
“Carter,” she says, breathless, “this could be our first real publication. Like—citable, impactful, top-of-the-semester type work. I can’t believe we caught this gradient. I can’t believe we—” She laughs a little, shaking her head. “This is huge.”
The pride on her face is so bright it hits me in the chest.
“That’s amazing, Rhi.”
And I mean it. I mean every word.
She beams at me—sunlight and joy and genius wrapped in one person—and the bed might as well tilt because I’m gone. Entirely gone.
She closes the laptop, rolls onto her side, and snuggles into my chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Report submitted,” she murmurs, satisfied. “Fieldwork officially complete.”
“Thank god,” I say, kissing the top of her head. “If Bam made us go back out there again, I think I’d cry.”
“You wouldn’t cry.” She taps her finger against my ribs. “You’d pretend you were totally fine, and then you’d swear at a thermometer until I felt bad for you.”
“That is an unfairly accurate assessment.”
She laughs—bright, unguarded, that laugh I’m addicted to.
My phone pings.
Jake
Dude, final count for the party tomorrow night. You coming or what? Need to know for booze run.
I stare at the message.
The New Year’s party. At the Alpha Phi house.
I haven’t been back there since Dominic’s funeral. Haven’t been to a single house event, haven’t hung out with the guys, haven’t even driven past the place if I could help it.
“What is it?” Rhi asks, noticing my expression.
“Jake. Asking about the New Year’s party tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She sits up slightly. “Do you want to go?”
I should say yes immediately. Should act like it’s no big deal.
But I can’t.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ve been avoiding that house for over a year.”
“Because of Dominic.”
“Yeah.” I set my phone down. “He lived there for three years. His room, his stuff, his friends. Everything there reminds me of him. And I just—I couldn’t deal with it. So I moved out. Stopped going to events. Basically ghosted everyone.”
Rhi doesn’t say anything, just runs her fingers through my hair. “What are you scared of? If you go back?”
“I’m scared it’s going to hurt,” I say honestly. “Being there without him. Seeing his picture on the wall with all the other alumni. Hearing people talk about him. Remembering all the times he was there and I was this annoying little brother tagging along.”
“Those sound like good memories.”
“They are. That’s what makes it hard.” I close my eyes. “It’s easier to just avoid it. To not go back. To pretend that part of my life doesn’t exist anymore.”
“But it does exist,” she says gently. “And those guys are your friends. They miss you.”
“They miss Dominic.”
“They miss you too.” She shifts so we’re face to face. “Carter, you’re allowed to have a life that includes him without being consumed by him. You’re allowed to go back to that house and have fun and make new memories. That’s not betraying him. That’s living.”
“What if I’m not ready?” I ask quietly.
“Then we don’t go. We stay here, order takeout, watch the ball drop on TV. No pressure.” She takes my hand. “But I think you might be more ready than you realize. You showed up in top form for the research trip. You showed up for me when I confronted Matthew. You’ve been showing up for yourself.”
“This feels different.”
“It is different.” She squeezes my hand. “But you can’t hide from it forever. And I don’t think you want to.”
I think about that. About what I actually want versus what feels safe.
“The last New Year’s at the frat, Dominic was there,” I say. “It was New Year’s two years ago. He was in the kitchen doing shots with Marcus, and I was being an idiot freshman, and everything was normal. And I didn’t know—” My voice catches. “I didn’t know I only had one more month with him.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I know. But if I had, I would have paid more attention. I would have talked to him more. I would have said—” I stop. “I don’t know. Something that mattered.”
She looks at me seriously. “What would he tell you to do? If he could?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “He’d tell me to stop being a pussy and go to the party.”
She laughs. “Would he really say it like that?”
“Verbatim. Probably while dumping beer on my head or doing something equally obnoxious.” I’m grinning. “He was really good at the tough love thing.”
“So, what would tough-love Dominic say about you avoiding his house for a year?”
I can hear his voice so clearly, it hurts. Carter, dude, they’re your brothers too. Stop moping and go hang out with them.
“I’m going,” I hear myself say. “To the party. I want to see the guys.” I’m going to stop running away from every place that reminds me of him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I sit up, pulling her with me. “Will you come with me?”
“To a frat party on New Year’s Eve?” She wrinkles her nose. “Do I have to?”
“Please? I need moral support. And also, someone to kiss at midnight and drink cheap cider with.”
“You’re really selling this.”
“I’ll make it up to you. I’ll watch a documentary about volcanoes.”
“I have like eight queued up.”
“I’ll watch two.”
She pretends to consider. “Fine. But only because I want to meet your friends. And see you in your natural habitat.”
“My natural habitat is right here. In bed. With you.”
“Your other natural habitat.” She kisses me. “The one with beer pong and questionable life choices.”
“There will be no beer pong. I’m very mature and responsible.”
“We’ll see how long that lasts.”
We spend the rest of the afternoon in bed—not doing anything particularly productive, just existing together.
She reads while I doze. We order pizza and eat it sitting cross-legged on the mattress.
She shows me pictures from her previous geology field trips, and I pretend to understand what makes one rock more interesting than another.
It’s perfect. Simple and easy, and exactly what I need.
Around seven, Jake comes home. I hear him in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge, swearing when he doesn’t find whatever he’s looking for.
“Jake!” I call out. “We’re coming tomorrow!”
His head appears in my doorway. “Yeah? Both of you?”
“Both of us.”
His grin is huge. “Dude. That’s awesome. The guys are going to be so happy.” He looks at Rhi. “Fair warning, they’re going to interrogate you. Very thoroughly. Especially Marcus—he takes the ‘protective big brother’ thing seriously.”
“I can handle it,” Rhi says.
“She faced down an asshole the other day,” I add. “She can definitely handle some frat guys.”
“Nice.” Jake leans against the doorframe.
He straightens up. “Okay, I’m going to the store to get supplies. You two need anything?”
“We’re good,” I say.
“Cool. See you tomorrow. Don’t be late—countdown’s at midnight, obviously.”
After he leaves, Rhi pulls her laptop open again.
She shifts to get more comfortable, and I notice her flexing her ankle—the one that was very swollen just days ago.
“How’s it feeling?” I ask, running my hand down her leg.
“So much better, actually. The swelling’s almost completely gone.” She rotates it in a small circle. “See? Nearly back to normal.”