Always (Indigo Falls #1)

by Loren Leigh

Kepler Quinn steps into the kitchen, his smoke gray eyes shifting over the room like he’s looking for someone. Towering and stupidly confident, he’s got a cup in one hand, and the other sinks into well-loved jeans as his focus halts on me, and it’s like a bolt of electricity zaps up my spine, hitting every single vertebra on the way.

He raises a single brow in my direction like he knows exactly what he does to me. Like he knows . . . everything. He does know everything.

Simkung. It’s Korean for that throb you get in your chest with some people.

There’s no normal when it comes to him. My response to him is a sudden onset of flame that always gets hotter. It never burns out. It never goes away. It’s not attraction. It’s something else entirely. Too intense to parse out or put a name on. And it doesn’t happen with any other guy.

It’s just Kepler. He messes me up. Which is really freaking inconvenient because he’s also my brother’s best friend. The same way that Dex and I are friends: lifelong, inseparable, more family than friends.

He’s like a monster under my bed. Roaring into my brain the second I try not to think about him.

Out here, it smells like evergreen and night. So different from inside. There’s another smell too. Complexly spicy. A smell that reminds me of a tea my father used to make out of dried omija berries from the Korean market over on Snake River Road. It tastes like a hundred different flavors all mixed together. Like lemon dipped in honey, sweet berries and cinnamon, the taste changing on your tongue even as you drink it.

I can’t think when he’s near. I’m like this spastic, brain-riddled kid with a . . . crush. A sudden coldness hits me at the core. That’s what this is. I have a fucking crush on my brother’s best friend.

He’s got a light scar on his chin. His bottom lip is slightly thinner than his top. And those smoky grays have a few flecks of brown in them.

It’s attraction, even if it’s not Kepler-level. Same with the girls we pass, and thinking back, I’ve never responded to a girl the same way I respond to Kepler either.

London is smart and kind and interesting and definitely hot. He’s the kind of person I want to end up with someday. But he doesn’t give me the same thump that’s obliterating my chest—and let’s face it, my dick—right now. Kepler’s just different.

In a sky stacked with stars, he’s the brightest one. The one I’m drawn to, again and again.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. “Maybe because truly caring about someone is never uncomplicated.”

His eyes are so light right now that they almost look silver. He looks playful. It’s not only in his gaze, but also in the ease of that sharp jaw. In the way he clutches his pencil between long fingers, slowly tapping it against his legal pad. Shit, that playful ease looks so damn good on him. I can’t remember the last time I saw him like that.

“To me,” he says quietly, “it feels like I’m the most obvious person in the world. I leave you Post-its because I selfishly want you to think about me.”

“And I text you because every one of those pictures you send feels like it breathes life into me. I walked with you to the willow because I want every second I can get with you. Even if it fucks up my head a bit, even if I know that it’s crossing a line.”

“I followed you back here because I wanted to see how you are since I know you had a difficult night. And also, selfishly again, because I imagined shoving you up against the bookshelf and kissing the fuck out of you, even if I’m pretty sure that won’t ever happen. Even if I’ve imagined doing just that ever since that first time I saw you on the Quad.”

“Fucking kiss me, Quinn.” I close the distance, my lips flattening against his, and it’s like something between us snaps. His mouth crushes against mine, and the kiss is instant—no pretense, no second-guessing, no questioning—like this kiss has been lingering there between us, just waiting to happen.

more honest than I’ve ever realized. There’s always been someone else. Even if I haven’t been able to admit it. I don’t know when it began for me with Kepler, but it’s always been there like my own heartbeat, my own breath, the stars above—ever present.

Maybe I still struggle to read Kepler’s thoughts on his face, but as soon as his tongue brushes mine, I feel them. Washing over me, his want, his need, the cup of his hand on the nape of my neck. It’s the way he kisses me. With that same intensity he has when he studies me. One-hundred-fucking-percent.

“You look even sexier when I’m on my knees.”

His eyes are reverent. He’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. His angled jaw is wide open to take me. His gaze simmers with a kind of warmth that’s indescribable.

Before I even get a solid footing, he’s kissing me again. I groan at not just the taste of myself, but the slickness of my cum as it slides into my mouth.

Until I believe that this is really happening. That it isn’t all in my head. That there is something different here. The realization comes in a split second—when we’re lip-locked and his hand finds mine, our fingers lacing effortlessly. Kepler Quinn is holding my hand. That’s when I know it’s truly beyond fantasy. It’s really fucking real. At least for me.

Kepler Quinn is smiling at me with a kind of delight I haven’t seen on him in years. My damn heart grows in my chest, filling it up, closing my throat. There’s nothing that prepares me for what he looks like when he smiles. It’s so genuine.

This is more than a crush. More than me exploring this sexual awakening situation. More than friendship. What if I could fall in love with Kepler Quinn? What if I’m a bit in love with him already? What if I have been for years?

He’s really fucking beautiful. Head to toe. Brain to heart. All of him.

I’m ready for this. I’m ready for us. And however this changes things between us—because I know it will. I mean . . . he read my essays. For no other reason than to read my words. There’s something so deeply humbling in that. He wants me. Brain, body, and soul. And I want him.

“Because you once told me what the hangul meant.” I pause, trying to read everything I can on his face. “Treasure,” I say. “It means something like treasure.” He squeezes me tighter. “Exactly.”

It's real. I hear it every time he says my name, feel it when he pushes into me with that perfect control, learn it when he talks—for hours—telling me all the things I didn’t know about his life. He answers my questions. He holds nothing back.

I want to be out.” I swallow hard, all the things I deeply want vibrating in my chest. “I want to be out with you.” He drags in a sharp breath. “We will be.” “Promise?” “Yes.”

We’re combustible. This instant pull between us, filling up my veins, and I can feel it racing his pulse as he sweeps his hands down to palm my ass.

“I’m absolutely guilty of looking for that light. Just to know you’re there.”

“I, uh . . .” I swallow hard. “Think we need more lube.” “Here.” He reaches down, and I hear the snap of his condom. My eyes bug out as he hands it back to me, and then I groan as I tip the condom, letting his cum dribble out, using his own release to cover my dick.

He grips me so tight. And he’s so beautiful splayed out before me, leaning against that railing—the spread of his shoulders, delts taut, muscles curving down his back to narrow hips that I clasp with both hands, snow melting on his hot skin as my dick buries to the hilt, my thumbs rolling over those dimples above his ass.

“Holy fuck, that’s incredible,” I mumble. And I don’t know if I’m just talking about the sex, or if I’m talking about everything. What we have. This link between us shimmers and sparks, constantly growing, getting bigger until it’s almost overwhelming. The sky’s the limit.

“This is so fucked up. You could lose everything. The job. Your chance to defend your dissertation. Would they even let you earn your doctorate? And for what?” “For us,” he says urgently, stepping closer. “I pick you. No question in my mind. I’m not scared of writing another dissertation or finding another job. But the thought of losing you? It’s like standing on the edge of that roof, it terrifies me.”

I won’t let him risk his entire life for me. Even though just thinking about walking away from him makes me feel like I’m going to vibrate apart. He’s worth more. He’s worth so damn much. My eyes heat, but my resolve firms.

I squeeze my eyes tighter and hold onto him. His strength, his control. His words. You’re not alone. I’m here. Always have been.

“You’ve been my constant. For longer than you can possibly guess. You're as bright as starlight for me. Brighter.”

much emotion that it hits me low in the gut. “I could tell you about the treehouse and the telescope, the way that this man lives in my soul, that first moment I saw him on the Quad five years ago, how he’s my constant, how he fills me up. But you can see all that because it’s spread out on the table before you. It speaks for itself.

So, ‘how long has it been going on?’ I’ll just distill it down to one word.” His eyes warm to a light gray. “Always.”

All I can think is one thing. One simple, true thing that has fluttered in my heart for so long that it’s become a part of me. I squeeze my eyes and lean closer to his ear to let it out. “I love you. I always have.”

“You’re my universal constant. Something that will never change.” That genuine smile expands over his face, the one I’ll never get tired of. “I love you to the depth of my ability to love.”

“If you want to hear it simpler, then here it is: I love you too. Always.”