On This Island, I Make the Rules

Chapter 011

Ethan stared at her.

She couldn't stand the idea of him being with Hannah, so now she was insisting he stay beside her all night.

He was sick of being ordered around. And after everything that had happened, all he wanted was a little time with the one person who actually wanted him there.

“Then all three of us can squeeze in,” he said.

Brooke blinked.

“All three?”

“That's the only option. Otherwise, Hannah and I will find somewhere else.”

She hesitated.

“Fine. But don't crowd me.”

The hollow had been worn smooth by years of seawater. Higher rocks rose around its edges, enclosing a space roughly five feet wide and a little over six feet long.

Ethan settled down beside Hannah.

They seemed to be above the waterline for the night, but the stone beneath them was cold.

“Move.”

Brooke wedged herself between them.

Ethan sat up again.

“Seriously?”

“It's freezing. You two were going to huddle together and leave me out here?”

He closed his eyes for a moment.

Even going to sleep had to become an argument.

Did she really not understand that she was making herself the world's most determined third wheel?

“Let's just get through tonight,” Hannah said gently. “Tomorrow, we can cut branches, gather vines and dry leaves, and build something on the beach. It has to be better than this.”

She looked past Brooke at Ethan.

“We'll have time together tomorrow.”

Then she turned onto her side, facing away.

Brooke made a disgusted sound.

“Unbelievable.”

“Are you going to sleep or not?” Ethan demanded.

“Yes. Fine.”

She settled against him as if the argument had never happened.

He thought of the way she had treated him at home. The difference was almost impossible to reconcile. Only a few days ago, she couldn't stand having him near her. Now she wouldn't let him move away.

He decided not to challenge her again. He was exhausted, and another fight wouldn't give any of them more room.

At last, the hollow grew quiet.

The sea rolled against the rocks, withdrew, and came again.

Brooke's breathing gradually slowed.

Ethan reached past her, searching for Hannah's hand.

He had never known what it was like to lie awake thinking about someone who felt the same way about him. After years of loneliness, the small certainty of Hannah being there filled him with a warmth the cold stone couldn't quite take away.

His fingers found hers.

She stirred and squeezed them.

For a little while, they stayed like that, holding hands across the cramped space.

Then pain shot through his arm.

Brooke had pinched him.

Of course she had.

“I'm cold,” she whispered. “Stop moving.”

Her voice sat somewhere between a plea and an order.

Hannah let go. Ethan withdrew his arm.

Brooke shifted closer, making sure he had no room to reach past her again.

“What exactly are you trying to do?” he asked under his breath.

“Get some sleep.”

“Then let me.”

“You're the one fidgeting.”

He stared into the darkness, anger building behind his ribs.

This wasn't about warmth. It wasn't even about space. Brooke wanted to know that, if she asked, he would still put her first.

He adjusted his position, trying to ease the ache in his shoulder.

She caught his wrist.

“Stay still, Leech.”

The old nickname returned, quieter now but no less familiar.

Ethan pulled against her grip.

“Brooke, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to stop sneaking around with Hannah.”

“We're not sneaking around. We're together.”

“If you try anything while I'm here, you'll regret it.”

She drove her hand into him hard enough to make him flinch and curl away.

“Why do you have to make everything miserable?” he asked, his voice shaking with anger.

“Because I don't even have a boyfriend. Why should you get to date someone?”

For a moment, he couldn't answer.

That was her reason?

“Could you both stop?” Hannah said quietly.

Brooke turned her head.

“We're talking. Nobody asked you.”

Hannah ignored her and addressed Ethan.

“Tomorrow, we build shelters. One each. Then everyone gets their own space, and we don't have to do this again.”

“Yes,” Ethan said at once.

A place of his own. The right to decide where he sat, where he slept, whose hand he held.

It sounded almost impossibly good.

“One each is fine,” Brooke said. “As long as it stays one each.”

She caught his arm again and held it firmly against her side.

“Leave it there. Then I'll know if you move.”

Ethan wanted to push her away, go to Hannah, and stop allowing Brooke to turn every moment into a test of obedience.

But beneath the anger, he could feel how frightened she still was. She had none of her father's protection out here, none of the audience that had always made her feel important. All she had was him, and she was clinging to that in the only way she seemed to know.

It didn't excuse her. It only made the situation harder to untangle.

He lay back, staring at the narrow strip of stars above the rocks.

Tomorrow, he would build those shelters.

And then, somehow, he and Hannah would finally have a little space of their own.