“Did you have a good workout?” Sky settles in the sand next to me and pretends to scan the horizon, but I know she’s watching Storm. Her new green bikini accentuates her curves and makes me want to wrap a towel around her. It looks great with her crazy mane of red hair. Storm is an idiot.
“Yeah. Where were you? You should have been practicing your forms.”
“Mom and I went to visit Sequoia.” She grabs a fistful of fine sand and lets it trickle through her fingers. “She isn’t feeling well.”
“Does she have a cold or something? She never gets sick.” Storm’s aunt is a Cherokee medicine woman who, I swear, knows magic. At least she knows a lot more about healing with herbs and natural ingredients than most modern doctors with their drugs and fancy equipment.
“No, Pax. She’s just feeling a little run down. No worries.” Her answer and the wave of peace she sends my way calms me, and since Storm hasn’t said anything, it must not be serious.
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