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“Maison’s the stubborn twin, you know,” he says suddenly.

My head pops up. “What?”

He chuckles under his breath. “Everyone thinks I’m the difficult one, but I don’t hold a candle to how fucking stubborn he is.”

What is he saying? I don’t react to him, afraid he’d decide to stop talking. I’ve never heard Micah open up like this before.

He swallows sharply and continues, “Maison leads with emotion, not logic, and acts on instinct. He is a good defenseman and brother, but he reacts in the moment rather than thinking things through. He’s also not a fighter, he’s always been a protector, but he’s pig-headed sometimes, and that will be his downfall. He went three months without speaking to me after Olivia died.”

Olivia.

It’s weird hearing her name from his lips. She was real—and he was in love with her. Maison kept this part of the story from me.

His eyes find mine. “And you’re stubborn, too, just like she was. He’s complicated, London, more than you realize. Try to forgive him.”

Funny, that’s the same thing he says about Micah.

I hood my eyes, suddenly feeling very guilty about agreeing to dig up dirt and write a story on him. It was obviously a painful experience for both of them. My voice nearly cracks, and I can’t even look at him. “Micah, about the story…”

He shakes his head without letting me finish. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I get you had your reasons.” He stands up to leave. “Meet me here tomorrow. I’m going to bring you food because you’re too fucking skinny. Let’s get some meat back on your ass.”

In typical Micah fashion, he disappears into the woods.

My pulse quickens as I watch him walk away with the same sexy swagger he had when I first saw him, like he can do no wrong. Maison’s swagger is identical, so it must be a twin thing. I place my hand on my ass, indeed feeling how bony it is, then trace my fingers up to the spot Micah likes to touch. My skin stings like little lightning bolts. I hate how much I like him touching me there.

I pull my knees into my chest.

Stubborn. What does he know? I’m not stubborn.

I close my eyes. It’s almost three days of constant pining on Maison’s part to get my attention. Maybe he deserves to have me at least hear him out. The problem is, when Maison apologizes, I know I will forgive him, and I’m not done being angry.

I stand and head back to the camp. When I arrive, Naomi and Ezra are to the side. Micah sits alone, staring into the fire, ignoring me even though I know he sees me. He’s always aware of me, I’ve decided, even when he takes great effort to pretend like he isn’t.

Anger pulses through me as Serena stands in front of Maison, who’s sitting on a log, leaning back and chatting with her. His eyes draw up when he notices me, and she twists around only to see me approaching. Without hesitation, I push her out of the way.

“What the hell, London?” she cries out. “We were just talking.”

Maison looks confused and cute as hell when I sit on his lap, inviting his arms around me.

I blink at Naomi, who rises as though she intends to stand up for Serena. Micah looks up and glares at her, and Ezra and Serena, which gives her pause.

That’s right, you won’t do anything, Naomi.

Maison moves his hand up, massaging the back of my neck, which instantly relaxes my shoulders. I lean in to kiss him, drawing it out, making sure everyone can see it. I nibble on his lips and tease my tongue inside his mouth.

When I’m done kissing him, he whispers. “Hey, baby. I missed you.”

“I miss you, too, Maison. And I’m so sorry for everything.” I grab his arm, pulling him up to his feet.

I want to get away from everyone, so I grab a bit of food and pull Maison toward our shelter and lie down.

He slips in beside me as if he never left. “I had no idea Naomi would do that to you,” he blurts out. “I would have stopped it if I did. I went to the woods for space, returned, and left again. I’m sorry, baby, I just had to think. You never came out, so I slept in Micah’s shelter. I checked on you, but you were sleeping. I was going to come in the morning, but then… you were gone.”

He’s so apologetic, my heart melts, feeling the weight of his remorse. I lean into him, so familiar now, his skin, his heat, the lines of his body. “You left me, Maison. You didn’t protect me when I needed you… like you said you would.”

Pain flashes through his eyes as he stops and stares at me, his full lips pressed together, and for a brief second, I can’t bear to see him hurt. I stop breathing.

He’s so beautiful.