"The guy came knocking in the dead of night?—"
I scoffed because we were both night owls who hardly ever went to bed before midnight.
"—and he promised to visit then kept my daughter waiting all day."
"I wasn't waiting," I protested.
Dad merely lifted a brow at that, silently calling me on the lie.
But I really hadn't waitedall day. I'd been too busy crying and reading—not at the same time. When I woke up this morning, the first thing I saw was a text from my cousin Scarlett. All it said was:OMG! Have you seen this?There was a picture beneath that, and what I saw made my jaw drop.
The photo was taken from behind. The HERS tour bus was in the background, and it clearly showed Aurora kissing...was that Felix Cordova?
Oh my gosh was right.
My cousin was kissing a rockstar.
Just like I told her to—even if I never in a million years thought she'd do it.
Tears streamed down my cheeks.
I was happy for her and honestly so proud of Ror for stepping out of her shell. I texted her to tell her so, focusing on the positive, keeping my tone light. But...no matter how I tried to push the thought back, a small voice inside whispered:That should've been me.With Ryker Cordova, of course. I was the one with the crush. I was the one who'd convinced Ror to go in the first place. I was supposed to be there. Not here crying stupid tears and wondering if a certain hockey player would keep his promise to come by.
To escape my funk, I'd started reading. Being swept away by yet another amazing historical romance didn't leave me much time to think about the tour I was missing, Tolliver's absence, the pain in my wrist or anything else—which was the entire point. I'd never admit that between chapters, I glanced outside a time or two. Or that I insisted on answering the door whenever someone knocked or rang the bell, feeling like an idiot when none of them were Tolliver. Instead of saying any of that to my dad, I arched a brow.
"Anyway," my father went on, "he's also carrying a hockey stick like some reject in a horror movie."
"His name's not Jason," I replied.
"You sure?"
"Yep."
"Thank God. Do you know what it is? Just in case I have to call the police to make him leave?"
Right then, Tolliver looked up, and a little zing went through me as our gazes collided. His lips tipped up. He lifted his hand in a wave, and I frowned then dropped the curtain.
"That won't be necessary," I said briskly. "I'll make him go."
"How?" Dad asked.
"By being my usual charming self."
My father laughed softly. "Now I feel kind of bad for the kid."
I scoffed. "Don't."
So far, I’d managed to keep the details of what exactly landed me in the hospital a secret. Namely Tolliver and his terrible aim. I didn’t think Dad would be so nice if he knew that little fact.
When I got to the door, I didn’t pause before throwing it open and stepping outside. I crossed my arms, trying not to be moved at all by the way Tolliver’s face seemed to light up upon seeing me. Shaking myself out of it, I felt my lips turn down. Unlike my dad, my scowl was real.
“Hey,” Tolliver said, “it's good to see you.”
“Why? Did you think I died or something?” I asked.
He shook his head. "Nah, you're too tough for that, and my basketball skills aren't that bad."
"Aren't they?"
