Page 76 of Hooked on Trouble

We order pho and a side of spring rolls, then I pull out my phone. Nico won’t be home yet, but rational doesn’t define my present state of being. He will call. He will call. He has to call. Unless he freaks that I dropped that bomb on him and bolted, because I was scared to deal with him in person. Like an idiot. The more I think about it, the more insane it seems.

As I place my phone on the table—face up just in case—Shay says, “Let’s talk bachelorette party. It’s in two weeks, and we haven’t chosen a bar.”

But my mind is on that box on Nico’s floor. “I can’t believe I left drugs in Nico’s apartment. What the fuck was I thinking?”

She plays with her chopsticks instead of answering right away. Then, “I’m not sure what I would’ve done. Maybe gone to the station instead of his place? But it was a pretty big shock, and it’s not like the guy hasn’t dealt with drugs. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Or he’ll have me arrested. “Should I text him? I should text him. What if he brings Nikki over or his nephew and the kid grabs the box and opens it and…oh, God.”

Moron must run in my family. I grab my phone and pull up his name, hesitating a beat. But I have to tell him what I’ve done. I made a bad decision. Several. I’m sorry for what I asked of you. For not listening to you. Rose lied. I found drugs in my apartment and kind of freaked and left them in yours with a note. Not sure why. I’m sorry.

I hit Send, but as soon as I do, a million other things I should have written run through my mind. I write them anyway—a barrage of texts, one after another. Our waitress brings us our food, but I don’t look up.

I’ve missed you so much.

I should never have asked you to lie.

I’m sick that Nikki was in my place.

It turns out I don’t need Rose. I just need you.

I can’t believe I left drugs in your apartment.

The last one sums up my stupidity.

Shay’s halfway through her soup, but I can’t touch mine. “He’s going to hate me.”

She puts down her spoon, swirls a spring roll in plum sauce, and bites off the end. Once she swallows, she says, “Have you told him the truth?”

I play with the noodles in my bowl. “Yeah.”

“Then he can’t hate you. Like I said, give him time.”

My phone buzzes then, startling us both. We eye the thing like it’s a transformer about to attack. She kicks my foot. “Check it.”

Sucking in a large breath, I tap my phone.

I’m taking the box to the station. Detective Crenshaw will meet you there. You’ll have to make a statement.

My heart fizzles faster than our neighbor’s sizzling beef. He didn’t mention the note or my texts. No acknowledgment of my apology or the “break” we’re on. With the high bar he’s set for those in his life, I shouldn’t be surprised.

“Bad news?” Shay’s brows are creased, her wild hair framing her concern.

“I have to make a statement, but it doesn’t sound like he’ll be there. It doesn’t sound like he’ll forgive me.”

She reaches over and grasps my hand. “I’m sorry, but I don’t believe this is the end.” When I don’t answer, she says, “We should get the check. I’ll come with.”

I mumble thanks as I fish for my wallet, my choices and mistakes so clear they’re startling. Nico is everything I want. It took an asshole of a sister and a pile of drugs to figure it out, but I’m ready to put him first. He’s a proud man. A man of principle, like Shay said. My request hurt him. Putting Nikki near a bad scene scared him. The fact that I shunned his advice about Rose pushed him away. But he kept the note I wrote in Aspen, rereading it for months afterward. Surely he’ll do the same now. He’ll reread my letter, and in a day or two or three, he’ll call me. He’ll accept my apology.

But he doesn’t.

Twenty-four

Nico

I don’t mind hitting clubs. The dance tunes can be fun, the flirty crowd energetic, but the last thing I feel like doing tonight—or have felt like doing any night the past six weeks—is socializing. Unfortunately, Sawyer’s bachelor party isn’t something I can miss.

We’re in an area at the side, lounging on a group of couches. Everything in this place is white. White walls and furniture, white floor, waitstaff all dressed in white. The second I walked in, I imagined Raven in here, her black ink and clothes and hair shocking against the neutral backdrop. I blinked the image away and ordered a beer.