I take a second to register her words, and the moment they do, my brows knit in confusion. “A tree what?” I ask, inclining my head, waiting for her to repeat it to see if I heard her right.

Olivia laughs at my bewilderment, having fun at my expense. She brushes a few stray hairs off her face.

“I’m being serious.” She draws closer to me, her expression becoming determined. “My brother could help us.”

A tree therapist doesn’t sound real. Not even close to it. I’ve lived for twenty-one years and have never heard of one. This is absurd enough to make me question her sanity.

“So, you’re telling me your brother is a tree therapist? What are you going to say next, you shit rainbows or something?”

She gives me an unimpressed look. “Blue, I’m being real. Trust me with this one,” she pleads. I press my fingers into my brow bone, trying to ease the tension away. The effort is in vain.

“Okay… I’m listening.”

She lets out a relieved sigh that makes her shoulders drop, satisfaction settling on her features.

Too quick for me to step back, Olivia’s hands firmly grip my shoulders in a hug. Instead of prying her away, I stay as still as a statue. Liv is unbothered by my inability to respond to affection. She just backs away, grinning.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

That’s a thing she does. Says one thing and does something entirely different. Sometimes her inability to see things through bothers me. However, it’s a big part of her and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

I frown. “Where are you going?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

She whirls around, her backpack bouncing on her shoulders. She pulls up her jeans, tightens her jacket, smooths her blonde hair, and waves before racing off.

I don’t stop her this time. I just watch as she leaves, abandoning me in the back garden of the house that used to be my grandmother’s. A place she never planted flowers in and left open for me to play when I was a kid.

As I sit up, an icy blow of air escapes my lips. Thanks to Olivia, I’m stuck with a question that will annoy me all night: are tree therapists a real thing?

CHAPTER TWO

INDIGO

He actually exists and he certainly fits the bill, if you can believe it. Narrow mouth, prominent Adam’s apple, sharp cheekbones, and unruly light brown wavy hair that contrasts with his sparkling green eyes.

He’s standing tall next to his sister, hands in his jeans pockets. I give him a passing glance, not wanting to show any interest. He may look like someone I would’ve had no trouble sleeping with a year ago, but I’ve had that crossed off my list for quite some time.