Push Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance by Annabelle Winters

Author:Annabelle Winters [Winters, Annabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Winterswept
Published: 2021-04-09T16:00:00+00:00

15

ZAAL

“Thank you for helping me let go,” she says as we sit on an old pine log near the fresh mound of rich, loamy soil that’s living and breathing like any of us. From here we can see Father and Mother’s trees, just the tops which will grow higher, watching over Angie’s brother as one of the acorns she placed on his remains takes root and shoots heavenward.

Of course, a tree can only reach to the heavens if its roots descend to hell, I remind myself as Angie shudders a bit from a cool burst of air that rustles the dry leaves that tonight’s rain will later quiet.

“You haven’t let go,” I say without looking at her. “But thank you for thanking me.”

She looks at me, her eyes flashing in the night. She says nothing, pulls her jacket closer around her, presses her knees tight together. Smooth bare legs, maybe a smooth bare bottom too underneath that skirt. Not sure what she did with her underwear and tights. I want to ask but think better of it.

“Have you let go of your parents?” she asks hesitantly, her gaze moving to those watchful oaks and then back toward her brother’s fresh grave.

“Yes.” The answer comes cold even though the question was unexpected.

She waits like she wants more from me. She won’t get it.

Angie huffs out a tense laugh. The breeze blows cooler and her smooth legs prickle with goosebumps. “Right,” she says with an eye-roll I can almost hear. “You don’t do conversation.”

I stiffen but fight off the urge to respond, to push back again, to argue just for the hell of it. You say left, I go right. The moon peeks from behind a cloud and casts Angie’s profile in silver light. She’s beautiful. The moon knows it. The wolves know it. I know it. Does she?

I glance at Fate and Destiny. They’re sitting on either side of Tommy’s grave, facing the woods. They’re sitting upright and staring into the darkness, watching like gargoyles on the temple walls. Angie’s looking at them too. She smiles faintly. Her eyes are shiny wet. Her fingers tighten on the weather-smoothed log, and my own hand clenches like our bodies are reaching out for each other. We’re safe and alone, the rain won’t be here for hours, the moon is out, the stars are smiling. Why haven’t I kissed her yet? Why haven’t I claimed her yet? Why don’t I own her yet?

“You really own the mountain and the river and the forest?” she says, tilting her head to the left and frowning like it confuses her.

“Only on paper. In the spirit we all own it together, just like it owns us.”

Now her frown changes, like it’s me confusing her. “I can’t tell if you’re for real or not.”

“I can’t either sometimes.”

“How about right now? Are you for real right now?”

I shrug. “Real as I’ve ever been.”

She laughs and jabs me in the arm. The dogs turn their heads and then look away. Whatever

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