Indiana.

By the time Josie is home from work, I've styled, restyled, and unstyled my hair probably three or four times before giving up. I don't know why I suddenly feel like I need to refine my appearance – I've already met a lot of the people that'll be there while looking like a total slob – but I guess since this is a formal get together, I feel like I should put in a little more effort.

That and everyone on this reservation seems to be naturally attractive. Great gene pool, I guess.

And Paul… He's really attractive. And not in the cute-attractive way like Seth and Malachi are, but in the made-me-lose-my-breath kind of attractive way. So maybe that's the real reason why I want to look nice tonight.

Josie gives me a look when she gets home and finds I'm sprawled across her bed in lounge clothes. "What are you doing?" She smiles with amusement and drops her purse on the dresser.

I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. "Waiting for you."

"Here I am," she says playfully, holding her arms out in presentation. "Ready for the party?"

"Do I look ready?" I raise an eyebrow and motion down at my sweats and baggy shirt.

She makes a face. "Yeah, you're right. You need some help."

We both laugh and she opens up her closet and starts digging through.

"I bought my own clothes the other day, you know that, right?" I watch her sift through the hangers as she ignores me and tosses a thin, black sweater at me.

"Wear that and a pair of shorts. It'll be hot over there, even for you."

Doubtful.

I flip the sweater around in my hands before pulling off my baggy shirt and slipping it on. "How many people are going to be there?" I shake my hair out of the collar and push the sleeves to my elbows.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," she admits. "But it'll be fun. Parties at Emily's are always fun." She gives me another look and her eyes suddenly light up.

"What?"

She folds her hands under her chin. "Can I do your makeup?"

I roll my eyes but nod my head.

We shuffle into the bathroom and I let her have her way with my face. For someone who rarely wears makeup, she really knows what she's doing when she puts it on. She calls it her "sole artistic ability," though I know on top of that she's an amazing singer. That's one of the reasons he picked her that night, in the karaoke bar…

The song she was singing was the same one I was dancing to in the video he discovered me through.

I haven't had the guts to tell her.

A shudder runs through my body.

Josie scoffs and holds my face still. "You almost made me mess up your eyeliner!" she yells. She's really serious about this.

When six o'clock rolls around, Josie has us both dolled up and is tying on a pair of strappy white sandals to go with her flowing dress. She's practically glowing with happiness. I've never seen her look so radiant before.

I smile and step into the bathroom for one last glance in the mirror before we leave.

I hardly recognize myself with the absence of the dark bags under my eyes. For once, I don't look nearly as dead and exhausted as I feel. My lashes are coated, there's shimmery, neutral-toned eyeshadow on my lids, and a soft lip color painted on my lips.

It's been years since I've worn makeup. He hated it.

"It doesn't let your skin breathe," he used to say.

If it could've suffocated me I would've let it.

I tie my hair up in a high ponytail and shut the light off. I finally gave up on styling it and just straightened it so it wasn't such a mess. My shoes are waiting by the door and I slip them on before we leave the house on foot to Emily's.

There's still a few more hours of sunlight left in the day. The weather is perfect – just warm enough for shorts and just cool enough for a sweater. Josie and I talk about nothing in particular as our feet carry us along the road and pathways.

I watch her as she tells me a story from her and Jared's childhood.

Carefree. Like nothing ever happened.

Like the events that took place in New York are a distance memory.

Like they've barely left a mark on her.

Thank god.

I don't want her thoughts plagued like mine.

A branch snapping somewhere along the tree line makes my skin erupt in goosebumps, and I lean into Josie like a crutch. If only nothing had ever happened. If only the events that took place in New York were a distance memory. If only they'd barely left a mark on me. Then maybe I could go through my days without constantly thinking about him.

Malcolm Hearst.

The name alone makes me shiver.

It's odd, isn't it? That simply thinking a name can make your body physically react in fear.

I hate it. Maybe he'd go away for good one day if I could just forget his fucking name.

Josie snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Relax, would you?"

My eyes refocus as I blink a few times.

"I know what you're thinking about. Stop."

Averting my eyes, I smile sheepishly and tighten my ponytail.

Josie is more intuitive that she lets on. Even in the short amount of time we've been together, she probably knows me better than anyone else in this world, despite the secrets I've kept from her.

We take a small trail through another patch of trees and come upon a dirt road leading up to an earthy-looking house. It's tucked into more trees that line a grassy sand dune separating the property from the beach. It looks cozy; two stories with a big sliding glass door and potted flowers on the porch.

Embry and Jared are there waiting and grin as we approach them.

"Shit, I forgot how long girls take to get ready," Jared says, a beer in one hand and his cell phone in the other, thumb tapping dutifully. Texting Kim, I'm assuming.

Josie flips him off though he doesn't see it and slides her arm around Embry's waist, placing a kiss on his cheek.

The music from inside gets louder as the sliding door opens and Emily steps out.

"Indie," she says, hugging me softly, "I'm so glad you could make it."

Josie holds her free arm out. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

Emily smiles and hugs her as well. "I love chopped liver."

We all make faces and laugh before following her inside.

The walls of Emily's kitchen are lined with artwork and cards. The top of the fridge houses cereal boxes and homemade granola, and there's a very expensive-looking KitchenAid mixing cookie dough on the counter.

There's a circular table in the dining area, separated from the kitchen by a long bar island, with a large bowl of potato salad in the middle of it, and the counters and bar are loaded with burgers and hot dogs and every imaginable topping. Opened bags of chips, plates of corn on the cob, several different types of soda – every available surface seems to be covered with some kind of food or drink.

There must be a lot of people here.

It takes fifteen steps for us to reach the living room where everyone is gathered. There's a large "Welcome Home" banner hanging along a wooden pillar in the ceiling and there are balloons everywhere.

All at once, everyone holds up their drinks and yells, "Welcome home!"

And then everyone swarms her. Hugging her and kissing her cheeks and telling her how much they all missed her. It feels like their first reunion all over again.

I'm so overwhelmed by all of the love in the room it's almost suffocating.

Seth pops up next to me a few seconds later with a grin. "So, she forced you to come after all," he teases.

I laugh a little. "Yeah, she dragged me out of the house by my hair and everything," I joke.

He smirks and tugs on my ponytail. "Explains why it's such a mess."

"The only mess here is you." Leah walks up and smacks her brother on the back of the head. "Bullying girls is not how you show them you like them, baby brother."

Seth floods with embarrassment. "Shut up, Leah!"

"Seth has a crush on the new girl?" Malachi strides over with a grin and a very pretty red-head tucked under his arm. "You know who ain't gonna like that."

Seth groans audibly. "You guys suck," he huffs. "Can't even be friends with a girl without you guys being assholes."

Everyone laughs and Malachi squeezes his arm around the girl curled into his side. She looks young – maybe seventeen or eighteen – and has bright blue eyes and wild, curly hair. "This is my girl Sarah," he introduces, then points at me. "This is Indie."

We smile at each other politely but that is the extent of our interaction before Malachi leads her off into the crowd of people. Mousey little thing. I can tell she feels even more out of place than I do.

Taking a deep breath, I look around the room at all of the people. I recognize almost everyone, but there are a few unfamiliar faces. I'm guessing two are Collin and Brady, but I'm not sure about the others, or which ones Collin and Brady actually are. My eyes keep scanning and then I catch Paul's eye from across the room and find myself momentarily stunned by his appearance once again.

My heart flutters and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks when he smiles at me.

He is so breathtakingly handsome; tall, tanned, muscular, and with soul-piercing eyes.

Any girl's wet dream.

I inhale sharply and avert my eyes back to Leah.

"Big turn out." I say, just to say something, and Leah laughs at me. "What?"

She rolls her eyes. "You are so obvious right now."

I give her a warning look and she holds her hands up in defense. She opens her mouth to say something, but as Emily approaches us with Sam close behind, she suddenly slinks away without a word and disappears amongst the crowd.

I frown and strain my neck to look for her, but she's gone.

"How are you settling in?" Emily touches my arm and then rests her hands on her belly. Sam stands next to her looking more like a bodyguard than a fiancé as he talks to Seth, but I find it endearing. He's so protective of her and their baby.

I push my slipping sleeve back up and nod. "Good, actually. I'm working at the coffee shop," I tell her. "It's been nice. And the reservation is beautiful."

She smiles warmly and leans into Sam who seems to mold around her touch. "The summers are my favorite," she agrees, nodding. "Will you be at Quileute Days next weekend?"

I vaguely remember hearing Leah and Tiffany talking about it at work the other day. Well, debating on who should work the stand in the mornings, anyways. "I'm not sure. I think everyone's seniority means I'll probably be working those days," I laugh.

"Tiffany will let you off early enough for the real fun," Sam says.

Emily smiles. "Can I fix you a plate? Or get you something to drink?"

From the loveseat across the room, Malachi yells, "She's a fruit-only kind of girl!"

Seth laughs. "Bird food or no food!"

They air-five and I roll my eyes at them as Emily motions for me to follow her into the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry about them," she says as she opens the fridge. "There's no brain-to-mouth filter on either of them."

I take a seat in an empty chair at the table and laugh. "It's okay, I think they're funny. Sort of like brothers. And they remind me of Josie in a way."

"Actually, I can see that."

I watch her pull a cluster of grapes and run them under the sink, then watch her delicately slice an apple and rinse that as well. She delivers the fruit to me on a paper plate and carefully eases herself into the seat across from me.

I guess she took to heart what Malachi said.

"You didn't have to make anything for me," I tell her, but smile thankfully.

She smiles back. "It's kind of what I'm known for around here," she replies. "I'm always feeding these animals."

"Hey, we heard that."

My heart pounds as Paul and Jared walk in with Josie and Embry right behind them. Josie has a cider bottle in each hand and casually sets one in front of me as she takes the chair next to me.

"Emily knows these are my favorite," she says with a grin, taking a long drink while wiggling her eyebrows. "They used to be hers too before she had to go and get pregnant."

Emily glares at her and kicks her under the table, then giggles.

I look down and read the bottle out loud. "Howling Moon?" I pop a grape into my mouth.

Paul snorts from his post near the bar counter. "Oh come on, that's in poor taste," he chuckles, looking at me and holding his hand out. "Let me open that for you."

I hand the bottle to him and watch as he easily pops the top off with his teeth.

"Thank you." Our fingers brush when he hands the bottle back and I swear my skin ignites in flames. I don't remember the last time I felt this kind of physical attraction to someone, or if I ever have this intensely before.

We stare at each other for a moment and I take in every possible detail of his appearance. He's dressed casually; wearing a simple, dark grey t-shirt and a pair of dark, fitted jeans. They shape around his legs nicely and are tucked into white high tops.

His dark hair is cropped short and styled. His trimmed sideburns accentuate the hard line of his jaw and elongate his neck, and the pearly white of his teeth against the tan of his skin is enough to make any girl swoon, I think.

But the warmth of his eyes – that's what really draws me in. They feel familiar somehow. I get lost in them so easily.

Josie nudges me and my eyes snap back in her direction.

"What?" I ask dumbly. No sense of subtly there.

"I said, there's still a few more people you have to meet."

My lips curve over the opening of the cider bottle for a prolonged drink. A little liquid courage couldn't hurt right now. "Yeah, of course." I nod my head and take one last glance at Paul before following Josie back to the living room.

She takes me around and briefly introduces me to the remaining of the unknown faces in the room; Collin and Brady as I expected, Emily's niece Claire, Seth and Leah's mother Sue, Quil, and one of Josie's coworkers named Amy.

Everyone seems to be filled with joy. They're all eating and drinking and laughing and there's an overall feeling of relaxation floating through the air.

I wonder what she told them.

Did they all hear the same story? Do they all know it's because of me she got into that mess?

Bringing the cider to my lips, I take residence in an armchair.

She acts like I was the hero – I wasn't, though.

She was.

She is.

She didn't have to bring me here. The second she stepped foot outside, she could've taken off and never looked back – and I wouldn't have blamed her. I would've understood. But she's so selfless and brave and fiercely loyal and I admire her for all of those qualities. Envy her, even.

"There's too many people here."

I hadn't even realized Leah was standing there, but now she's squeezing her way into the armchair with me. I scoot over as much as I can until we're both comfortably wedged between the arms.

She passes over another cider bottle after opening it with her teeth – just like Paul had – and sighs.

I raise an eyebrow at her, but she says nothing.

My first cider only has a drink or two left in it, so I swallow those back and set the empty bottle on the end table.

We sit in comfortable silence. I can tell she doesn't want to be here. Her eyes are narrowly pointed across the room where Sam, Malachi, Sarah, and Seth are all drinking beers in the corner, laughing. She's so on edge she would probably fall right over it if I blew on her.

"How old is Seth?" My fingers tap aimlessly at the neck of my new cider. He has the body of a man, but the face of a boy. Maybe Leah doesn't condone underage drinking. Sarah definitely can't be more than eighteen at most.

"Old enough that he shouldn't need a babysitter, but here I am," she grumbles. "In the one place I don't want to be."

That much I knew for sure.

"She wouldn't have been mad if you skipped." I take a drink from my cider and secure the bottle between my knees.

A deep sigh leaves her chest. "It's not that, it's just—" she pauses and chews on her lip for a minute. "Sam is my ex."

Oh. That explains why she disappeared earlier.

"And Emily is my cousin."

I look at her in shock. "Your cousin?"

"He left me for her…"

Emily doesn't seem like she could be capable of allowing something like that. Maybe she and Leah weren't close? "Like… close cousin?"

She sighs again. "It's not her fault really. It's just this big, fucked up situation."

Fucked up is putting it lightly.

I watch her with heavy eyes and furrowed brows. She's clearly not over whatever happened between the three of them and still feels pain because of it. My heart aches for her. For them. Emily has one of the most genuine personalities I've ever come across – she can't have done it purposely to hurt Leah. I don't know the whole story, but there has to be more.

Emily's niece suddenly runs past us, accidentally stepping on Leah's foot, laughing and screaming as she tries to escape Quil who is playfully chasing her. When he catches her, he launches her up onto his shoulders and Leah makes an annoyed sound in her throat.

I look at her curiously.

"More fucked up situations."

I glance back at them as Quil's head snaps in our direction and he glares at her. "Shut up, Leah. Go be a hag somewhere else," he snaps.

She ignites with anger – so intense it even makes me want to yell at Quil, and I barely know him. In a flash, she's on her feet, glaring at him as she leaves the room swiftly and angrily.

As much as I want to go make sure she's ok, I think she needs to be alone.

I frown and sink further into the chair, turning the cider bottle over in my hands to read the nutrition label.

9.5% alcohol content.

Drinking on a mostly-empty stomach. Probably a bad idea.

The last time I drank alcohol, I was sixteen at a house party and he was watching me from outside.

I glance at the window.

Nothing.

Only trees.

Get out of my head.

I look back at the bottle and chug the rest of it. It's smooth and tastes like juice.

Dangerous.

"Pounding them back, huh? Want to grab another with me?"

My heart thumps at that familiar voice and I look up at Paul who is smiling down at me. His eyes are soft and full of warmth. I feel my lips part with a breath before it registers that he asked me a question.

"Oh," I glance at my now-empty bottle. "Yeah, sure. Thank you."

He helps me up, like a perfect gentleman, and leads me outside with his burning hand at the small of my back. I slide into the empty rocking chair and pull my knees up to my chest.

He grabs two drinks from the red cooler and opens them both before handing me one.

I smile and thank him, looking out into the darkness of the trees. The sun has finally set, but the moon is high and bright in the clear sky, illuminating the surrounding area.

Paul takes a seat on the railing, his beer held loosely in his hands, and follows the direction I'm looking. "See something?" he asks, taking a drink from his beer.

Shaking my head, I try and ignore the anxiety gnawing at me that Malcolm could be out in those trees right now, watching us. After an escape like that, he'd never let me enjoy this, so I know he's not there, but what if?

"You're from the big city, right?" His eyes meet mine and the anxiety starts to melt away. "How's it feel hanging out on a small patch of Native lands after living in a place like that?"

I let out a sigh of relief and take a sip. "Surprisingly refreshing. It's really beautiful here."

"Gets prettier every day," he says, eyes fixed on mine.

I smile warmly and take another drink. "Where did you live before moving here?"

He sits further back on the railing and leans against a post connected to the roof. "Tacoma," he replies, taking another swig of his beer. "My mom still lives there, but we don't talk. My best friend's there, too."

"Do you still get to see him?" I don't press the mom situation.

He nods. "His name's Jesse. Actually, he's supposed to come down soon and help me finish my house."

"You're building a house?"

He nods. "It's getting close," he says proudly, straightening his posture and rubbing at his jaw. "I don't mess with the electrical stuff, though. That's what I need him for."

"Do you have pictures?"

He starts digging into his pockets for his phone and I join him on the railing, our legs pressing together, as he clicks into an album of construction photos. "I started it a few months ago once it stopped raining so much," he tells me, scrolling through the pictures.

I watch the progression from a hole in the ground to walls and windows in a series of thirty or so pictures.

It looks beautiful.

The outside is wood siding that's almost black in color, and the inside walls are painted a warm off-white. The wood floors are dark and there are matching dark cabinets in the kitchen.

It's a two story house with two bedrooms and three bathrooms, he tells me, with a sunken den and a cozy woodstove. And up on the angled roof is a platform built with a thin mattress and a rolled up sleeping bag on top.

"You're sleeping on the roof?" I ask, looking at him. "Don't you get cold at night?"

"I only sleep there on clear nights to see the stars." He chuckles and nods at the door. "I'm staying here for the most part until it's done."

Being this close to him, I can see the shadow of stubble along his jaw and the small, miscellaneous scars that are partially hidden beneath the ink of the tattoos along his arms. I didn't get a chance to really look at them earlier, but now I can see that each sleeve is designed with Native American symbols, forest landscapes, and animals. The one on his left arm has a large, snarling wolf with huge paws. It's as tall as the pine trees it's walking through.

He notices me staring and angles his arm into the light. "My favorite animals," he says, holding the other arm out as well. It has an elephant head with sweeping tusks surrounded by clouds and large sunbeams.

A smile spreads across my lips. "I like whales," I tell him, setting my drink on the railing next to me. "Orcas, grey whales, humpbacks."

"Aren't orcas actually dolphins?" There's a playful glint in his eyes as he smirks at me around the neck of his beer bottle – almost as if he knows the question will get a rise out of me.

"Don't get me started."

We both laugh and I reach up to tighten my ponytail for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. He sets his bottle down and rubs his palms into his jeans.

"There's whales here this time of year, you know."

I look at him excitedly. "Really?"

"Yeah, I can show you some spots they usually pass by if you want."

"That would be really great! Thank—"

There's a sudden, loud clatter as Jared nearly falls through the doorway and interrupts our conversation. He looks flushed, but laughs when he sees us sitting here. "Hey, Paul being a fuckhead to you or what?"

I shake my head. "No, actually he's being quite the gentleman."

He snorts. "Yeah right," he says sarcastically, and Paul shoots a dark glare at him. He just laughs and props the door open with the leg of the rocking chair. "Party's moving to the beach."

People start filing out with drinks in hand and Paul hops off the railing, offering me his hand again. My fingers slide into his warm palm and I offer him a smile. I wonder if he feels the way his skin makes mine tingle, or if he can tell that my heart skips a beat every time our eyes meet.

I used to be afraid of this – a connection with people, I mean.

The innocence of new relationships were always ruined by the skeletons in my closet. Or the demon, I should say.

He would come into my room at night and whisper how I was too good for them. Tell me in detail all the ways he could make them suffer or disappear forever if I didn't make the right choices. He wanted me pure. Innocent. Naïve.

I push the thoughts of him out of my head.

That's not my life anymore. He doesn't control me or what I do. I can get drunk at a party or flirt with a boy if I want to.

I'm allowed to live.

Fuck him.

A/N: more Indie & Paul! I hope you guys enjoyed. I know there's little real substance behind this chapter, but let me know what you think anyways :) xx