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I blink back my tears. “I’ll try.”
“And you’ll start showing up more around here?” he prods, that same demanding expression painted across his weathered face.
“That, I can guarantee.”
He grins. “That’s my girl.”
16
Saylor
My entire body feels like a live wire as the windshield wipers whoosh back and forth. The snow is falling harder now, matching my anxiety as I pull into a parking spot in front of my apartment building, then I rush inside.
Keys jingling, I slide them into the lock and let myself in before tossing them onto the counter along with my coat and purse.
Breathe, Say, I remind myself.
My phone feels like a ticking time bomb in the back pocket of my jeans, but I dig it out and stare at Owen’s message again.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: Happy Thanksgiving, Say. Thinking of you.
Chewing on my lower lip, I try not to let myself overthink anything and type back a quick response.
Me: Thanks. Did Grady have fun?
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: He had a blast and is now passed out on the couch from too much turkey and pecan pie.
Me: Pecans?
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: Nora brought it with her. And no, Grady isn’t allergic like I am, but he thoroughly enjoyed eating it in front of me to make me jealous.
When I realize I’m grinning, I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath.
How can something that feels so easy feel so freaking hard at the same time?
Me: That’s just mean.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: It really was. I can still remember the first time I tried it at your house.
Me: Me too. You practically inhaled the whole pie before realizing yo
ur throat was scratchy. I still can’t believe you didn’t know you were allergic until you were 17.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: To be fair, I always thought pecan pie looked gross, so I stuck with apple until your mom made it for Sunday dinner. I didn’t want to be rude and tell her no, so….
Me: So, it’s a good thing my mom had her EpiPen.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: Very good thing.
Me: So, how’s Nora doing?
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: Good. Brought her boyfriend with her for the holidays.
Me: And?
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named: He seems like a good guy. Nora’s really happy.
Me: Aw, that makes me happy.
