Page 27 of Run to Me

As do I, Tate. As do I.

Sensing her distress over being separated from her friend, Jake says, “Come on, baby. Let’s get you some tea.” Guiding her away, he tips his chin at me. “See ya later.”

“See ya.”

I linger with my hands buried in my pockets, watching them enter The Drip, their favorite hangout from back in their school days. Maisy and I never had a special place. We didn’t run around together or socialize in the same groups, but we weren’t purposely hiding our friendship. If anything, neither of us made our connection public because we, ourselves, didn’t understand its meaning.

Our strong bond thrived in the background, but Maisy deserves better than secrets and shadows. The problem is she never believed she was worthy of better. I want to prove her wrong. If she’ll open herself up to me again—heart and soul—I’ll show her what unbound love looks like. I’m willing to beg for the opportunity to prove I’m still the person she had faith in once upon a time. All I need is one chance to right my wrongs. Then our wandering souls can rest.

“You good, bro?” Brody startles me out of my daze, stopping inches away from me.

I rub my beard. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“Well, you might want to get out of the street.” He points at my unlaced boots.

I’m standing in the street about three feet from the curb. When I step onto the sidewalk and head toward Bruno’s, he walks alongside me, matching my stride.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks.

“My to-do list,” I lie, my gaze locked on my destination.

His head bobs in my periphery. “I bet you have a long list.”

“Yep.” I side-eye him then check my watch. “You and Rock meeting up?”

Once football season ends, Brody and Rock meet at the bar after school. Their dates often coincide with the nights Lucy works a shift at the hospital in a town about thirty minutes away from Walford.

“Yes, sir. Fries with my guys.”

“It’s one guy. And don’t call me ‘sir.’” Stealing another peek at him, I notice he cut his shaggy hair, styling it neatly to one side.

“Cool.” He’s quiet for all of three seconds before he asks, “Want to talk about her?”

My steps falter before coming to a full stop. “Excuse me?”

“Obviously, you’re thinking about a woman. You’ve got that look.”

I cross my arms. “What look?”

He slips his hands in the front pockets of his khaki pants and shrugs. “The lost-puppy look.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re describing yourself.”

“And I’m almost one hundred percent sure I saw you sneaking out of that alley”—he points to the alley in question—“with a curly-headed bombshell who has fuckable knockers.”

I fist his shirt and yank him nose-to-nose with me as a growl leaves my chest. “Don’t disrespect her, Brody. You might get away with being a pig toward other women, but you don’t talk about her. Ever.”

His big grin tells me I played right into his childish hands. “I knew it.”

“Hey!” The deep, booming voice comes from nearby. We turn our heads to find Rock barreling toward us so fast his ass must be on fire. He gestures between me and Brody with a stiff finger. “What is this?”

“Nothing.” I release Brody with a shove. “This idiot has a death wish.”

A deranged grin spreads across Rock’s freckled face. “My money’s on Brody.”

I jerk my head back in disbelief and retrieve my buzzing phone from my back pocket.

Lucy