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My buzzing phone startles me an hour later.
Benz: Checking in. Things cool with you and Lark?
I bolt upright. My fingers shake as I type in my browser: Lark Angel.
A flood of information fills my screen. He’s been here the entire time, making his dreams come true and leaving me clues about his life.
Chapter 4
Skylar Engelhardt/ Lark Angel
“Hey, sleeping beauty, your work phone has been going off nonstop with the same number.” I open my eyes to Logan, my best friend, hovering over me. He’s alive, so no murder charges pending. Yay.
“You stayed,” I say, ignoring my phone and life. “Thanks, Lo.”
“I’d never leave my BFF crying enough tears to fill the Nile or denial.” He sits cross-legged on my bed. The bed is the first expensive thing I bought myself. It’s like sleeping on clouds. It’s my safe haven.
“You’re in it for the tea,” I say, heaving myself up against the cushioned headboard.
“Can you blame me? You keep your past locked with armed guards. I ain’t never seen you spare a second thought over a man, let alone shed a tear.” His voice softens. “Are you okay?”
“That’s a trick question. And this could have been avoided if you didn’t no-show last night’s job for a piece of ass. Or, or realize that hockey uses a puck, not a ball.” My eyes are dry, and I’d kill for a coffee.
As if reading my mind, Lo says, “I put in a delivery order for coffee and breakfast sandwiches. But that was hours ago, they’re cold now.” He rubs my shin. “Talk first or coffee?” he asks.
“I’m onto your tricks to get me out of bed,” I grumble, and throw off the covers, shivering from the cold air. My throw blanket is the perfect accessory on a wintry day.
Lo takes my hand and drags me downstairs to the kitchen. My brownstone still has original herringbone solid oak floors, and I spent many back-breaking hours restoring them. On mornings this chilly, I wish I’d put in a fireplace insert for more heat. It’s freezy-frozey on my toesies.
A bag from my favorite breakfast spot sits on the counter, calling my name. I chug a quarter of the coffee before I give it to Lo to warm up. The smell alone has perked me up. “You should’ve eaten without me,” I say instead of thank you.
“And what excuse would I have for hanging around and watching you sleep?” Lo flips his long brown hair over his shoulder.
“You’ve never needed an excuse before,” I grumble, and put the sandwiches in the toaster oven.
“Do I need to go kick his ass?” Lo moves into a fighter’s stance and punches the air.
“I doubt the two of us could take him at once. You heard he’s on a hockey team, right?” I stare out the window above the sink into the snow-covered yard.
“What, some beer league bro? We got this.” Lo hands me my warm coffee, and with a few gulps, it’s almost gone. He shakes his head. “Get an IV.”
“Don’t tempt me.” I avoid answering his question. As hurt as I am, outing Maverick isn’t an option. I finish my coffee and sit at the island with my head on my folded arms, waiting for my brain to come online. The faint sound of my work phone going off upstairs drags a groan out of me.
“Do you think it’s him?”
The idea shocks me. “I doubt it. He’d have to remember,” I say into my arms.
“If he was so terrible, why the drama? Kick your memories to the curb and be done with him.” Lo plants his skinny ass next to me.
“Because it wasn’t all miserable, and I loved him. Thought he was the one,” I admit, sitting up.
“Whoa, back up. You loved him? When? Why haven’t you talked about him?” Lo fires rapid questions.
“He was in the closet, and I figured it’d get better. I believed that he loved me and could change. But when that didn’t happen, I came here to follow my dreams.” I gesture to my house and the dance studio space on the other side of the wall. I bought two out of the three floors of this walk-up brownstone when I moved in. My original dreams didn’t come true, but I have an amazing life.
“It was the type of relationship that once I took a step away, I had clarity. He cared for me, he’s not a dick, but I took the risks and gave him my heart and lived off the scraps he was willing to part with.” My therapist has helped me see the inequity of it and how I was the giver in the relationship and he was a taker, which is fine if you take turns. We did not.
“I hate him already.” Lo bangs his fist on the counter.
