I was completely unprepared.
Even worse, I couldn’t think of anything to do that didn’t involve throwing myself into his arms and showering him with kisses of gratitude. I had a feeling that wouldn’t go over too well with Kona, though.
In the end, I settled for saying, “Hi, Mark,” and leaning into him for a quick, casual hug.
But nothing between Mark and me had ever been casual, and the way he wrapped his arms around me this time, pulling me close, was no exception. The second he pressed his body against mine, it was like I had never left. In a flash, I remembered everything I once was. Everything we once were together.
It was like coming home.
Except my powers went crazy, my body lighting up as energy hummed through me.
Kona cleared his throat and I pulled back reluctantly, a little unsure of how many seconds—or minutes—had passed while Mark just held me.
“Thank you,” I told him awkwardly. “For saving Moku. For watching out for him when I couldn’t.” From the time he was born, it had been my job to take care of Moku. How could I have forgotten that?
“No sweat, Tempe. You know I love Mo.” Mark looked down at the ground, shuffled his feet a little. “I just wish I could have found him sooner.”
“He’s going to come out of this. He’ll be okay.” I blinked my eyes a bunch of times in a useless attempt to banish the tears.
Kona cleared his throat again. “I’m going to go wait in the hall. Give you a couple of minutes to catch up.”
My knees turned to putty at the suggestion, and I glanced at Kona incredulously. It was obvious, from his tightly locked jaw to his white-knuckled fists, that he had no desire to leave me alone with Mark. And still he’d made the suggestion. That unselfishness, that determination to put my needs above his own, was just one of the reasons I’d fallen so hard for him.
Which was also why I couldn’t take him up on the offer. I wanted to, would love nothing more than to stay right here talking to Mark for as long as I had a voice, but it wasn’t right. It wouldn’t be fair—to either of them.
“No, that’s okay.” I forced the words out. “We need to get going. Rio’s probably starved.”
Mark stepped back. “I didn’t mean to keep you.” His voice was stiff now, his jaw rigid, and I could tell I had hurt him by refusing Kona’s offer—as much as I would have hurt Kona by taking him up on it.
Though they were being total gentlemen, I still felt like a rope in a tug-of-war contest—caught between two opposing sides. Belonging equally to both of them. It made my head throb.
“Don’t be stupid,” I told Mark. “We owe Moku’s life to you.”
“Logan helped. He’s going to try to stop by later, after he gets off work.”
“I’ll come back then. After I spend a little time with Rio—”
“And take a nap,” Kona interjected. “You’re exhausted.”
The proprietary way he said it irritated me to no end. Probably because I knew it had a lot more to do with Mark than with me.
Mark didn’t rise to the bait, though. Just stepped farther back and said, “Don’t let me keep you. I’m just going to stop in and see Moku for a few minutes. But I’ll tell Logan to look for you later.”
“Yeah, please. I want to thank him too.”“It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for us.” His phone beeped and he pulled it out, glanced down. “That’s your dad now. I guess I’ll catch you around, huh, Tempest?”
“Sure. And thanks again. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.” Though I meant every word, they came out stilted, which drove me nuts. For years, Mark had been a lot more than my boyfriend. He’d been my best friend, the person I wanted to spend more time with than anyone else besides Moku. And now we could barely look each other in the eye. It was awful.
Mark shook his head, grinned, and for a second I caught a glimpse of the old Mark, the one I remembered. The one I could talk to for hours without either one of us running out of things to say. “It’s good to see you, Tempe.” He reached behind me, yanked twice on my ponytail like he used to, and then he was gone. Slipping past us and out of the waiting room door before I could think of something, anything, else to say.
The house was even more gloomy than when we’d left it earlier. A summer storm had rolled in while we were at the hospital, turning the normally bright blue sky a dingy gray that made my normally sunlit house downright depressing.
“Rio!” I called as soon as we got inside. “I brought dinner!”
There was no answer. Kona and I exchanged worried looks. I headed for the stairs, but Kona stopped me with a gentle arm around my waist. “Why don’t you let me try to talk to him?” he suggested softly.
I remembered the way Rio had looked when he’d spoken about Kona earlier. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”
“I had ten younger brothers and sisters,” he reminded me. “There’s not much he can say that’s going to shock me.”
“He’s not exactly in a good place right now. I mean, he’s never been the sunniest kid, but he wasn’t like this either. Plus, I think he blames you for my leaving as much as he blames me. Maybe more.”
“I know. Which is why he and I might as well get this all out in the open now.” Kona cocked a brow. “I’m not planning on going anywhere, so he needs to get used to me. Right?”
“Right.” I knew I didn’t sound convinced about sending him in to see Rio, but that was because I wasn’t. I loved my brother, but he could be a real jerk when he wanted to be. And right now, it was pretty obvious that he really, really wanted to be.
While I waited for Kona to come back down, I cleared up the mess that had been left in the kitchen before laying out the food we’d picked up. Rubio’s fish tacos—Rio’s favorite. I just hoped Kona managed to talk him out of his room.
I didn’t hear anything from upstairs—no yelling, no slamming doors—but I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.
I got glasses, filled them with ice.
Pulled sodas out of the fridge near the bar and put them on the table.
Got napkins and placed them next to each person’s glass.
Washed my hands for the second time since I walked in the front door.
Emptied the dishwasher.
Started to fold the napkin into origami dolphins—
I couldn’t take it anymore. I was going up to see what was happening. For all I knew, the two of them could have killed each other …
I was halfway up the staircase when Rio appeared at the top of the steps, Kona directly behind him. Rio looked pissed (big surprise), but he didn’t say anything when he slid past me on the stairs. Neither did Kona, who didn’t look anywhere near as haggard or worn out as I’d expected him to. God knew, Rio could try the patience of a saint.
We settled around the table, and I watched this strange, black-clad Rio eat. And at least that was familiar—he still devoured his food like a raging wildebeest was going to plow into him at any second. Strangely, that gave me hope.
At least until I got a good look at his face. His eyes were bloodshot—really bloodshot—and I wasn’t sure if that meant he’d been crying or smoking pot. The fact that I didn’t know illustrated better than anything else just how much things had changed around here while I was gone.