Page 79 of Tracking Wolfe

His entire demeanor was, like, a beat off from his casual tone. The entire thing felt wrong, somehow.

And he knew it was a journal. Not just a notebook, a journal.

Which meant he’d opened it.

My heart dropped to my stomach at the idea of anyone putting their eyes on the contents of that book.

I closed my eyes and tried to keep my breathing steady. Had Shay photographed any of it? Sent pages to someone? The songs weren’t the worst of it—the worst of it was everything else. The things I’d written about Trace that I’d never said out loud to another human being.

My stomach lurched when Jake touched my arm.

“Hey.” His voice was careful, like he was approaching something that might bolt. “Shay’s mortified. Really. She asked me to come instead of facing you herself.”

The shame of someone else reading my private thoughts was already hardening into anger, but I forced it down. “Okay. Well. Thank you for bringing it back, I guess.” I held out a hand for the book.

Jake smiled patiently. “Come on, Wolfe. Don’t be like that. Let me make it up to you, huh? I stayed up late making an amazing salad trio and some gourmet sandwiches for our hike⁠—”

I shook my head. “I don’t feel like hiking anymore.”

His smile dimmed. “But… we made plans.”

Before your sister took my fucking journal.

“Listen, Jake, I’m not really open to starting something. And I⁠—”

His forehead creased. “I know you want to move slow. That’s fine with me.”

“No, I mean… I don’t want to move at all.” Well, that sounded stupid. “I mean, I just want to be friends.”

His face went through several emotions. Surprise, disappointment, anger, then resignation. “Well, I can’t say I love hearing that, but I can’t say I’m surprised either. You and your dad’s friend, huh?”

“What? I didn’t say—” Had we been that obvious the other night?

Jake shrugged. “It’s cool. So we’ll hike as friends.”

“Jake.” I hesitated. “I really don’t know⁠—”

“Please? The overlook’s one of my favorite places, and it’s only a few miles from here.”

I glanced at the journal on his dash again and considered my options.

I was angry… though I supposed Jake wasn’t the one who deserved my anger.

I was also concerned that if I made a big deal out of demanding my journal, it would make my desperation obvious. That might make Jake suspicious about what was inside it… assuming he hadn’t already read every damn word. Or if he had skimmed through it, he might wonder why I was making such a big deal over a few scraps of lyrics and decide to research further. He could even refuse to give it back entirely and drive away.

“Please?” Jake repeated softly, giving me a sheepish grin.

I blew out a breath. Trace was gone until this afternoon. And Jake had mentioned the trailhead was close to the campground.

The easiest solution was to go with Jake and grab my journal the minute I slid into the passenger seat of his truck, no confrontation needed.

We could share a friendly hike, and I could find out what he really knew—or thought he knew—from the journal.

That would be a much better use of my time than sitting in the van worrying about it. Or doodling Trace’s name in a heart bubble while waiting for him to come back.

“Okay,” I agreed. “As long as we’re back here by one.”

Jake’s smile widened. “Great! Hop in, and we’ll be the first on the trail.”