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“So I’ll be okay,” he murmurs, his throat bobbing.
I’ll be okay without you.
That’s what he means.
Did he sense how close I was to running home to him?
Am I more obvious than I thought?
Throat on fire, I nod. “Good. Because you promised.”
“I did.” He smiles thinly, and there’s an odd glint to his eye, almost resentful when he says, “And I always keep my promises.”
But before I can ask what that’s about, he shakes it off with a whisper, “I’ll let you go now.”
Please don’t.
“Bye, JJ.”
And all I can do is whisper back, “Bye, Mase Face.”
The screen goes dark, and I toss the phone on my desk.
Gabe whistles low under his breath, and I slap my hands to my face with a groan.
“It’s not what you’re th?—”
“Except I’m pretty sure it is.”
Angry suddenly, I drop my hands and storm over to him, grabbing the photo he’s still holding. I glance at it, heat blazing in my chest, scalding my eyes.
“See this girl,” I say, jabbing my finger at Izzy standing between Mason and me. He’s got her arm thrown around us both. On his other side, Waylon’s got his arms crossed.
“Yes…” Gabe says slowly. “Your sister?”
“Yeah, and this guy?” Fuck, I’m shaking.
“The guy you’re clearly in love with, yes,” he says, not bothering to mask his amusement. Either he’s oblivious to how worked up I’m getting, or he’s just that unimpressed by it.
He gasps suddenly. “Oh shit.” There it is. “He’s your sister’s boyfriend?” He tsks, and starts shaking his head. “Well, damn, that’s?—”
“No.”
He lifts his gaze to mine, amusement still etched along his features.
“He’s my dead sister’s boyfriend.”
At the words wrenched harshly from my lips, his smile stills, before faltering, fading as it hits him. His eyes growing impossibly wide, jaw dropping.
“Yeah,” I say, turning away, and shoving the picture back in the box where it remains.
Who was I kidding? I can’t hang these.
The time to turn my room into a scrapbook has well and truly passed. Just another missed opportunity, one I can never get back.
Now it would be nothing more than fucking memorial for what I’ll never get back. Yeah, no thanks.
Sniffing, I take the box, and shove it back under my bed. Gabe hasn’t moved. I can’t even be sure he’s breathing. But I feel his gaze lasered in on me all the same.
