Christopher seemed to barely notice me and tossed me an offhanded “Night,” oblivious of whatever was building between Jared and me.

“Good night,” Jared whispered, his eyes trailing my steps, locking on mine when I paused to look back at him from my door. His expression made it clear he was the furthest from oblivious.

It took him an hour, but finally I heard the light tapping that tickled my ears and escalated my pulse before the door cracked open. A sliver of light from the hallway bled inside as Jared stole into my darkened room.

I lay on my bed, waiting.

Chuckling, Jared crossed the room. “Christopher just left. Said he has some girl he promised he’d go see. Don’t think I’m quite interesting enough for him.”

Jared climbed onto the bed beside me. He didn’t hesitate to twist his finger through a lock of my hair as if it belonged there, didn’t hide the heave of contented air he pushed from his lungs. He settled so close to me I was sure he could count the thundering beats of my heart.

“Haven’t you figured that out by now?” Still I whispered. I wasn’t sure why.

Throaty laughter ricocheted against my walls. “Yeah… I might have noticed. What is up with him, anyway? Is he happy?” Jared turned a fraction, blinking toward the ceiling. “It’s like he’s chasing after something and can’t seem to find it.”

“Aren’t we all chasing after something?”

Lines deepened on Jared’s brow, a frown marring his face. “I don’t know, Aly.”

I inched forward. In the small space separating us, I relished the warmth I felt radiating from his body. My hands went to their safe spot, to his T-shirt-clad chest. I was still too fearful to touch the skin I wanted to disappear into.

“I think he’s happy, Jared, but he changed when you were sent away.”

Jared stiffened under me, because for the first time, I jumped. I was ready to submerge myself in the dangerous waters that held Jared under. I’d been treading them for too long.

With honesty, I opened my mouth. “I think it was fear… fear of losing someone who was so important to him.” I’d never forget Christopher’s eyes that night, when we’d found ourselves face-to-face in our hall, listening to our mother sobbing in her room. The vibrant green had waned from his eyes as Christopher had lost the last bit of his childhood, his innocence replaced with pain. Haunted. There was no other way to describe it. When I thought of what I saw in his eyes that day, I sometimes wondered what he had seen in mine.

“He ended up breaking up with Samantha about a week later.” Christopher had dated her for a year. I was pretty sure they’d been each other’s firsts. She was devastated, but Christopher had just seemed numb to her pain like he was to everything else. “He started going out all the time,” I slowly continued, knowing I was traversing dangerous ground, “hanging out with random girls. Now I can’t really tell if it’s a habit or a game or if he’s subconsciously guarding himself from something he doesn’t want to feel.”

Jared’s lips spread into a thin line, as if something that had nagged at him had been confirmed.

“It’s all so meaningless to him,” I said quietly, self-consciously fidgeting with Jared’s shirt. “I hate that those girls mean so little to him… that sex means so little to him.” I tipped my face up and captured his gaze. My mouth opened and closed as I struggled with what to say. As much as I didn’t want to know, I couldn’t keep myself from asking. “What about you? Have you ever been in love with anyone?”

Jared tilted his face away as if he didn’t want me to see his confessions waiting there. He wavered before he spoke. “Sex is like fighting for me, Aly. It’s a release, nothing more. I use girls just as shamelessly as Christopher does. Maybe in a different way. I don’t know, but in the end, it’s the same… It means nothing.”

I winced. Jealousy was not a pretty emotion. But it hit me hard. I’d grown so accustomed to this place that was ours that it’d become easy to imagine that this was all either of us had ever known… just the quiet of my room and the steady beat of our hearts.

In it, nothing else existed.

But Jared had known so much, so much pain, so much loss.

He’d known girls and what it felt like to be touched.

Was it wrong that I wanted that, too?

Pushing past our boundaries, I let my fingers climb up his chest and over one of his shoulders. Sinewy muscle jumped under my hands, beckoned me forward just as assuredly as they fought to resist my exploration.

I held my breath when I reached the bare skin of his neck. Every inch of my body lit, flames licking through my veins and blazing in my stomach. Shivers coursed over the surface of my skin.

How was it possible that one person could affect me this way?

I glanced up at his face. Turbulent blue eyes stared down at me. In them I felt a range of emotions, a warning, an appeal. Anger and affection. Most of all, I saw fear.

Tentatively, I dropped my gaze and watched as my fingers trailed down over his shoulder and traced the ink on his left arm. This arm was covered in blacks and grays, twisted shapes and faces that screamed his horrors. On the inside of his wrist was scripted Lest I forget.

Jared shuddered as if the contact caused him physical pain. But he didn’t pull away, and he released a stuttered breath across my face.

“Were you scared when they sent you away?” The question came so softly I thought perhaps I’d only uttered it in my head.

Still it sucked all the air from the room.

Frozen, Jared remained still, a million emotions spilling from his silence, before he finally spoke. “I was pissed, Aly.” He grunted through the words. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out like that. I thought I’d finally found a way to pay for what I’d done, and I managed to fuck that up, too.”

Chills crawled along the surface of my skin. Jared had just confirmed my greatest fear. All these years I’d tried to convince myself otherwise, that there was no chance Jared would have tried to take his own life. Asked myself, How could he? Convinced myself I’d just misunderstood because it seemed impossible to believe.

And to know he’d been angry that he’d failed?

Confusion and hurt and fear saturated my spirit because I couldn’t help worrying he’d try again.

I tried to swallow the lump wedged in the middle of my throat. “Maybe it turned out the way it was really supposed to be.”

Hard laughter rocked from his chest. “Nothing turns out the way it’s supposed to, Aly. And even if it did, I would only ruin it. You need to remember that. I warned you that you’d regret doing this… .” His fingers twisted deeper in my hair and he shifted to palm my neck with the other hand. He squeezed to emphasize our friendship, so hard it almost hurt. But it was my heart that hurt.

“How could I regret you?” I brought my hands to his face, held them there, gave in to the smolder singeing my skin. “I missed you, Jared. So much. They sent you away, and I thought I’d never see you again. Do you know how much that hurt?”

But I knew he really could have no idea.

How could he?

“I thought about you every day,” I admitted, burrowing my head farther into the bed, farther into his warmth. We skirted along the edges of an embrace, his hands on my face, mine on his, the expanse between us so great I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to cross it. “What was it like?” I asked, lifting my face to his.

He paused, his breath palpable in the room. “I don’t know, Aly. It sucked, I guess. People were always telling us what we could and couldn’t do, all the while they were calling it a rehabilitation center. There were some really good guys there, ones who just did some stupid stuff. I always hoped that maybe it did them some good. Most of us there were hopeless, though. It wouldn’t matter what punishment we had, there was no chance of coming up with a different result.”