She hands me my phone, looking a little too pleased with herself. “You’ve got a few messages. I didn’t tell him much, just that you got back and you’re okay.”
I flop back onto the bed with a groan. “Of course you did.”
I hover over the screen, thumb frozen like an idiot. Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I hit unlock.
Kane: You get home alright?
When I look back up, Rachel's watching me. She's suspiciously quiet. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“Nothing,” she says way too innocently, but the smile on her face doesn’t budge.
“Spit it out.”
She lifts her hands in surrender. “Are you going to text him back?”
I scowl. “No, I'm going to go back to bed.”
She leans against the doorway with her arms crossed, and her eyebrows arched. “Keep lying to yourself, drama queen. You’re already thinking about it.”
I groan, but my gaze drops back to my phone and that small, traitorous flutter in my chest betrays me. My fingers hesitate for half a second, then I lock it and toss the phone on the bed.
Not today.
Rachel doesn’t say anything, but she watches me like she’s waiting for me to cave. I ignore her, stretching my arms over my head and pretend I’m not seconds away from spiraling into a full-on existential crisis.
She finally sighs, flopping onto the bed beside me. “Alright, fine. We’ll just letthatsit for now. I won’t ask. Yet. But you came here for answers, and so far, all we’ve got is more questions. It’s time to actually do something, don't you think?"
I groan dramatically, sinking back into my pillow and yanking the covers over my face. “I don’t want to. Can’t we just pretend we’re normal people, on a normal vacation, doing normal vacation-y things? Like wine tours? Or I don’t know, buy overpriced keychains?”
“Nope,” she says immediately. Her voice takes on that bossy edge she gets when she’s about to drag me into something Ireallydon’t want to do. “We need a plan. And before you even think about trying to distract me, don’t. I know you’re holding out on me.”
I peek out from under the covers, narrowing my eyes. “Excuse me?”
She crosses her arms, looking entirely too smug. “You’re acting weird. You didn’t text me back, you disappeared, and now you’re doing thatthingwhere you pretend nothing’s wrong when Iknowsomething is.”
I fight to keep my face neutral, forcing a yawn. “Maybe I’m just tired.”
Her eyes narrow further, and she looks dangerously skeptical. “You’re alwaysjusttired.”
I shrug, rubbing my eyes like I couldn’t care less, even though my pulse has kicked up a notch. “Sorry to disappoint.”
She studies me with her sharp gaze, but after a second, she exhales dramatically, rolling onto her stomach. “Fine. Be mysterious. But even if Idon’t get details about how you got dicked down, I’m still going to sayI told you so.”
I snort. “Good to know you’re so supportive in my time of need.”
“Duh.” She winks. “Now, want to get food? You slept forever.”
“Deal.” I mumble, dragging myself out of bed.
She practically skips out of the room, calling over her shoulder, “And for the record, it looks like we don’t need a love spell for Lover Boy after all, unfortunately.”
I groan, rolling my eyes as I make my way to the bathroom. But despite everything, a small chuckle escapes me. She’s impossible.
But as I catch my reflection in the mirror, my amusement fades.
My hair is a disaster, sticking up in every direction, and my eyes are puffy from a night of too much crying and too little sleep. But it's the other thing that makes my stomach drop. My face doesn’t look anything like it did yesterday.
I pull off my hoodie and carefully peel back the bandage, so I can get a better look at my arm.
