My heart jumps, but it’s not because I’m startled. Riven Kozlov. My not-quite-brother. My only real friend. My unrequited secret.

We were both adopted by Dimitri and Karina Kozlov in our early teens. They have one biological son named Lucas and he’s the same age as Riven, but they couldn't be any different from one another. Riven came to live with the Kozlovs before me. People say he was quiet, broody, with a haunted kind of silence that keeps everyone else at a distance. Everyone but me. I came to live here a few months later, and from what I’m told, the moment I stepped into the Kozlovs' home, he softened. It was subtle, but they noticed. It was the quiet way he started hovering nearby me. Sitting beside me at dinner. Walking protectively close even when we were in a group. I once heard someone say, “That boy breathes a little easier when she’s in the room.”

He never said much. He still doesn't. But Riven doesn't need words when his presence says everything. And lately, it's been saying a little too much, giving me hope for something that can never be.

Just a few nights ago, our Dimitri found us on the porch swing. I had my head in Riven’s lap, his hand absently stroking my hair, the blanket wrapped around both of us. We weren’t doing anything wrong, but it didn’t matter. Nearly as soon as he stepped inside the house, Karina came barreling outside to get a look at us. She reminded us, again, that we were meant to be siblings. That what we have isn’t normal. She made sure to reiterate that we’re family.

But we don’t feel like siblings, and living here with these people has never felt like a family.

Riven’s boots crunch through the frosted grass, and I don’t need to look up. Lately, I can’t control the blush that heats my neck and face when his eyes sweep over me. His walk is slow and steady, like he owns whatever ground he touches. The scent of sweet hay and rusted metal hits before he even reaches me. He must have seen me while he was feeding the horses, which is the real reason I’ve been sitting out here, freezing my butt off. Things are awkward all the way around, but I crave being near him. I want his attention no matter the reason he’s giving it to me.

"You’re gonna freeze out here, Lake," he calls, voice rough like he hasn’t spoken yet this morning. Knowing him and the way he hates small talk, he probably hasn’t. I like that he breaks his habits for me, because he doesn’t do that for anyone else.