Soul Searching: A Sweetwater Peak Novel

by Lyla Sage

“Fruit—I’ve got peaches coming out of my ass, I swear—yogurt, scrambled eggs, and toast.” “Ew, I don’t want your ass peaches,”

Ghosts had always appeared to us in a few different ways—small orbs and big ones. Sometimes they were more human-esque but still blurry; sometimes they were shaky and glitched like a hologram, and sometimes they were totally invisible, which meant I felt them instead of saw them.

Clarke marched—feet on the ground with a clear direction—and I…floated, I guess.

Dex and Joanie Cartwright are the two best people on the planet—living or dead. Followed closely by Boone Ryder and then Clarke Cartwright.

Sweetwater Peak is a town built on chipped paint and cigarette butts and things that go bump in the night. It’s also fluffy white clouds and saltwater taffy and mountain breezes.

“Collins Cartwright.” I smiled back against my better judgment. “Fuckup extraordinaire,” he responded. His eyes were probably pretty when they weren’t tomato red. “I remember.”

It wasn’t creepy to stare at her if she was lurking outside my shop like a weirdo. I didn’t get a chance to look at her last night, but now I know she probably would’ve blinded me either way. I don’t know which one I would’ve preferred.

She didn’t seem fazed. She just kept talking, and I kept thinking about how she inadvertently called me hot and how that one word had effortlessly reduced me to a fumbling teenager.

“Working hard or hardly working?” she asked me with an arched brow. “I like a bare-minimum day every once in a while,” I said. “You’re talking to a girl whose entire life is held together by bare minimums,”

“How’s your heart?” “Half full,” I said. It was the most honest thing I’d said since I got here. My mom looked at me thoughtfully. “Better than half empty,”

God, why did I think coming back here would fix anything? I wasn’t like the ghosts. I didn’t have an anchor point that I could get closer to and feel more like myself. They could float with no consequences. I couldn’t. They didn’t need jobs or a place to live. They didn’t get stuck.

Boone was an old, crotchety man who lived even higher on the peak than Ms. Papadakis. He had his own little haven where he ran his own power and water—totally off the grid.

She held the joint out to me, and I took it from her once again. I thought about the fact that her mouth had just been wrapped around it as I inhaled. I felt everything about this moment in my lungs.

“Maybe you should go to the doctor,” I said, even though I knew he wouldn’t. “ ‘Maybe you should go to the doctor,’ ” Boone mimicked back.

Lmao

“He would love how afraid you are of him,” Collins said. “I’m not afraid of him,” I protested—even though I was kind of afraid of him. In like a manly way, obviously. It’s a healthy fear. A self-preservation thing, even.

“Takes one to know one, Brady.” Collins looked up at me. “But it sounds like we could both use a little soul searching.”

“Maybe we need one of those slippery when wet signs out here,” Brady said. I think he was trying to keep it light, but his voice was strained.

“Hey,” I called to Collins. “Need a ride?” “Depends,” she said. “Are you clothed?” I gave her an annoyed look. “You can see me.” “Not all of you,” she said as she stepped closer to the truck. “You could be Winnie-the-Pooh-ing it in there.”

“So every picture…” I trailed off. “Has a subject that no one can see,” Collins finished.

“Do you do this often?” “Trespass? Yes. At this particular location? Not for a long time,” I said, laying the plywood up against the house. “C’mon,” I said as I climbed through the hole it left.

“Collins, did you bring me to a murder house?” I looked at him sheepishly. “Not in the way you’re thinking,” I said. “Oh my god.” Brady shook his head quickly. “Nope, no.” “Would it make you feel better if I told you that the decapitation was totally accidental—” “Absolutely not.”

Brady brought his hands up to either side of his head. His eyes were so wide I thought they might pop out of his skull. “You brought me to a murder house!” “Again, it’s an accidental murder house.” Brady’s eye twitched.

“Why do I have to go first?” he asked. “Because there’s definitely going to be spiderwebs on the way up, and those give me the heebie-jeebies.” “So accidental decapitation, falling through a floor in an abandoned church, and seeing ghosts is all fine, but you draw the line at spiderwebs?”

“I don’t know if I should be offended that you don’t think I’m worth possessing.” “Oh my god. Do you want to get possessed or not?”

“Ghosts he can handle. Feet dangling, though, hard pass,”

“Brady.” “Yeah?” I said. My voice was low. I heard Collins swallow. “It’s not just one-sided.” I brought my hand to the side of her face and lowered my forehead to hers. “I know,” I whispered. “I know, Collins.”

“Do we still have an audience?” Collins pulled away from me to look around the apartment. “No, not anymore,” she said. “Why?” “Because I’m going to kiss you now,”

There was no hesitancy, no questioning. As soon as our lips touched, her hands were in my hair, and I felt like I couldn’t get close enough to her. I pushed up on my knees, and she came with me. I wrapped my arms around her waist, and made sure there was no space between us.

“You’re good at that,” I said. “So are you.” Thank god she sounded out of breath, too. “Again?” I asked. Or, maybe begged. “Again,” Collins agreed.

“Brady,” I said, and reached across the table to shake Mitch’s hand. Weak-ass handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

Died laughing at “Weak-ass handshake.”

“I have to go slow,” I said. “It’s a lot.” “Then go slow, baby.” Brady leaned forward and took one of my nipples into his mouth again. Goosebumps rose all over my skin. “You can take it.” I slid down another inch and gasped. “Relax,” Brady whispered against my chest. “I’ve got you.”

“That’s it, baby. Fuck me just like that.” “I’m close,” I moaned. “God, yes, use me. Come all over my cock. It’s all yours.”

Holy fucking shit, dude. Idk what to say. This whole scene is just…👌

“You, um, you have a little bit of, um…me on you.” I instinctively brought my hand up to wipe at my mouth, but Brady stopped me. “I’ll get it,” he said softly. He licked the side of my mouth and then kissed me.

I wanted to stay here forever. He pulled me even closer to him, and I felt like nothing could get to me here—not when I was with him. I wanted to take this feeling with me everywhere. Or maybe I just wanted to take him with me everywhere. “Brady,” I whispered “I—” My voice trailed off. “Me too, Collins,” he said with his lips on my forehead. “Me too.”

When Brady’s hands were on me in any way, it felt like he was my anchor—the thing holding me to the ground so I didn’t float away.

My favorite part about going from place to place and back home was having Brady by my side. He approached everything with so much wonder. He looked at the world the same way he looked at me, and it made me feel like I could do anything.