Always (Indigo Falls #1)

by Loren Leigh

“Jin?” The way he says my name jerks me back to the present. “Yeah.” I swallow and point toward the stairs. “I should, uh . . .” “And there it is.” His voice hardens a touch. I frown. “There what is?” “You avoiding me.” I stiffen. “I don’t.” “You do.” His eyes narrow. “Every time I enter a room, you’re out of it in less than five minutes. You’re ready to bolt right now.” Self-preservation.

It’s breath-catchingly gorgeous. And infinite. Some people say it makes them feel small, but looking up at a star-stacked sky like this, I’ve always felt part of something. Maybe that’s why I’ve inked it all over my body. Or maybe it’s simpler than that: I just like this shit. The possibilities of the night sky.

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.

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

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

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.”