Page 79 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

While Merritt stepped away to make a quick call, I found myself alone with Lucia and Dominique. They wasted no time zeroing in on me.

“How’s Merritt been?” Lucia asked, her tone more interrogation than curiosity.

“Is she holding up okay?” Dominique added, crossing her arms like she was the enforcer of the group.

“She told us how mean you were to her the other day,” Lucia said, her eyes narrowing. “We don’t like that. She’s our friend.”

“We watch out for her,” Dominique said.

“She doesn’t need to be treated like shit,” Lucia said.

Fuck me.

I felt like a pinball in a machine set to destroy me. I held up a hand, trying to slow them down. “Can we take it one question at a time?”

“How come you never called her while she’s been in Miami?” Dominique pressed.

“Didn’t you miss her?” Lucia piled on.

“And why did her dad never tell her you guys saw each other every other weekend?” Dominique finished, raising an eyebrow like she’d just delivered the knockout punch.

I looked between the two of them, my brain short-circuiting under the onslaught. “I—uh—can we take a breather here?”

Before they could come at me again, Merritt walked back into the room. She stopped in her tracks, taking one look at me and tilting her head in confusion. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted honestly, feeling more than a little shell-shocked.

Merritt laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t let them ruffle your feathers. Their barks are worse than their bites.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. The identical smiles Lucia and Dominique flashed me reminded me of the twins from The Shining. I swallowed hard. “Uh huh.”

Merritt turned to her friends, hands on her hips. “Thanks for the ride, but Kannon and I have to go. I made dinner reservations at my favorite restaurant tonight.”

She reached for her purse and motioned for me to follow her. I didn’t need to be told twice. As we walked downstairs, Dominique and Lucia waved us off, and I tried not to look too relieved.

The valet pulled up with a white Cadillac. I let out a low whistle as Merritt climbed into the driver’s seat. I followed her, sliding into the passenger side and buckling up.

“What?” she asked, glancing at me as she started the car. “Too flashy for your tastes?”

I scoffed, leaning back in the seat. “Nope. Just remembering how your dream car used to be a yellow Ford Ranger with a lift kit. Oh, how the times have changed.”

She laughed as she pulled out onto the street. “That was a phase. I’ve upgraded since then.”

“Clearly. This is very…”

“What?”

“Not the Merritt I knew,” I said.

Her smile froze for a second before she shook her head, taking a deep breath. “People change, Kannon. Just because you knew me once doesn’t mean you know everything about me now.”

She wasn’t wrong. The Merritt I’d known wouldn’t be caught dead in a Cadillac that a grandmother would love. She was more of a pickup truck kind of girl. I’d also never expected her to be living in a beachfront condo and talking of dinner reservations at restaurants I could hardly afford.

“You’re right,” I conceded quietly, looking out the window at the passing scenery.

The Cadillac was a welcome change from the chaos of Lucia’s Mini Cooper. I stretched out my legs, grateful to have space again. For the first time since I landed in Miami, I wasn’t convinced Merritt had brought me here to die.

“So,” I said, glancing at her as she navigated the Miami streets with a surprising amount of confidence. “You really live here, huh?”