Page 5 of The Banshee’s Unmistakable Love

One time a woman nearby laughed, and I could’ve sworn it was Briar. I whirled around so hard I swear I gave myself whiplash. The disappointment I felt when it wasn’t Briar…

That’s how I knew I made a mistake not confessing my feelings sooner.

“Refresh my memory,” she says, pausing only to give a quick thank you to the server as our sushi arrives. “How’s your dating life?”

The corner of my lip twitches up at the question, a smile begging to take over my face. Blair knows that I’m not dating, that I tried a few times while I was away at school, just to see if I could get over my feelings for Briar.

I couldn’t, though. I never made it past the first date with someone. Briar was always at the forefront of my mind. No other woman has ever compared to her. None ever will.

“Still working up the courage to tell that special someone my true feelings,” I admit, my cheeks growing warm.

Will she know I’m talking about her—well, about Briar—since she’s “not Briar” right now? Or will my confession miss the mark and put more distance between me and the one I’ve loved since we were seven years old?

As she chews her sushi roll, her hand covers her mouth. It’s incredibly cute, the way her delicate fingers block her chewing, and the rosiness in her cheeks that reaches the top of her pointed ears…she’s simply perfect.

Gods, how I’ve missed seeing her face.

Glossiness coats her eyes, and a deep sense of worry fills every bone in my body. My eyebrows furrow as she lowers her hand, swallowing her sushi. Her mouth opens and closes a few times, and she goes pale.

Suddenly, she jumps up from her seat—at least she tries to—her legs getting caught against the booth’s table.

My hands fly out to steady her, even though she’s not falling. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s going on.

She does a quick shuffle along the bench seat, then stands in the aisle. “Excuse me for one moment.” She rushes off to the washroom before I can say anything.

Was it something I said? Or just bad sushi?

As the minutes pass, I can’t control my leg as it bounces beneath the table. It feels like she ran out on me, but this isn’t a date, and she hasn’t left the building…that I’m aware of.

The server returns, eyeing the empty spot across from me. “Would you like to-go boxes?”

I hesitate a moment before nodding. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

They give one vigorous nod before spinning on their heel and walking toward the kitchen. As they disappear from view, Briar emerges from the hallway containing the washrooms.

Her pace is fast as she approaches the table, doing that same hip-swiveling scurry she’s always had. With such a distinct walk, it’s funny that she thinks I could ever confuse her with Blair.

However, the humor is in the back of my mind, my concern for her at the front. “Are you okay?”

She lightly shrugs, sliding back into the booth, her eyes glued to the food in front of her. “Just feeling unwell suddenly…it came on out of nowhere.”

“I figured. The server is bringing us boxes.” My heart aches when she won’t meet my gaze. “Ready to head home?”

Her shoulders fall as she sighs, one I can only assume is relief. My stomach turns. I did something wrong, or more likely, I said something wrong.

Gods, how have I already fucked this up?

“Yeah, I think so…” She slowly raises her eyes to meet mine. “But maybe we can catch up some more tomorrow, or something?”

The storm in my stomach calms, now more like a distant rumble of thunder. Okay, I didn’t mess things up enough for her to avoid me. That’s a win.

A win dampened by the fact she’s still pretending to be Blair, but a win nonetheless.

“Tomorrow is a busy day for me, but how about Thursday?” I ask, an immense amount of hopefulness filling me. “Gotta see my parents tomorrow. Tell them I’m moving back and finished school early, y’know?”

Her eyes light up, widening as she scans my face while nodding. “That works.”

We pack up our leftovers, paying separately—which won’t be happening if I get to take her out on a proper date—and before I know it, we’re standing across from each other outside.