His lashes rested against his cheeks in thick, dark half-moons. His lips were slightly parted, the full, sculpted lines softening in sleep. He looked a decade younger, relaxed and even content. His tattoos stood out against the white of his T-shirt but blended in with his mom’s colorful quilt. Even the ridge in his nose from a break he’d gotten in high school seemed gentler with the giant who wore this body sleeping restfully.

I wanted to paint this moment, to capture this exact feeling as I watched him at peace. A peace I knew would vanish the moment he opened his eyes and the world beat its way in.

Sullivan had been beautiful and charming.

Xander was handsome. Admirable.

But Cam… My heart hurt with how utterly devastating he was. Sure, “gorgeous” was a good word, especially when he opened his eyes, but his appeal was more than that. He was magnetic, which certainly repelled some, but never me. No, he drew me in like gravity, an undeniable, irrefutable force that anchored my world. A decade apart had taught me that I’d never break free of him, not really. It didn’t matter where I lived—gravity existed and held my feet to the earth. It didn’t matter who I dated—I’d always be drawn to Cam.

Even though he’d never feel the same.

Responsible for me? Yes. He bore that burden by choice. Friendly with me? Sure, when he felt like it. Attracted to me? Eh. Maybe if I ever got out of the sister zone.

But there was one zone I would never get out of—the dead-brother’s-girl zone. Nope. That category came with barbed wire, electric fences, and guards called guilt who shot on sight. After last night, I knew I could tell Cam a thousand times that he wasn’t responsible for Sullivan’s death—it wouldn’t matter. Until he forgave himself, there was little I could say about it.

I sighed softly, took one long last look because I knew he couldn’t see, and then I quietly left the living room, choosing only the boards I knew from experience wouldn’t creak.

There was something to be said for having grown up here, too.

Man, Thea was going to have a field day with this story…if I ever told her. Not that I was hiding it, but she’d want to chat about my feelings. And my feelings were locked up in that whole prickly don’t-go-there zone.

I made my way past the dining room and library to the kitchen and surveyed the contents of Cam’s fridge.

Bacon. Excellent. Mushrooms. Good. Cheddar. Awesome.

Omelets for breakfast it was.

Once that was decided, I tiptoed down to Cam’s bathroom and shamelessly stole the new toothbrush whose mate was already on the counter from the opened pack.