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I wander to the desk as I wait for Craig to come back, idly picking up one of Lucy’s earrings, putting it back down again on top of her travel journal.
I freeze.
“Hey. Sorry. Still there?” Craig asks.
“Yeah.” My gaze is still on the journal.
He’s silent for a second. “Look man, I get it. My sister’s infuriating.”
“Yup,” I say, when he doesn’t finish his sentence.
“Don’t hurt her.”
I rub a hand over the back over my neck. “I don’t know if I can promise that.”
My thumb finds the corner of the journal.
“Bullshit. Promise.”
How can I promise not to hurt her when I don’t even know what she’s thinking? Feeling.
I open the cover of the journal. Close it again and close my eyes.
I could though. I could know what she’s thinking.
“How about this,” I tell my best friend. “I promise that if I hurt her in the short term, it’s only so that I don’t hurt her more in the long term.”
“Fair enough,” he says slowly. “And for what it’s worth, I’d tell her not to hurt you too, if she was the one that had called. She’s my sister, but you’re like my brother. You both matter.”
“Yeah. Thanks for that,” I say. “Gotta run.”
I hang up before I can tell my best friend that I’m seriously contemplating doing the shittiest thing on the planet: reading Lucy’s journal.
He doesn’t want her to hurt me? Probably too late for that. Lucy’s already reopened a part of me that only she can, and is poised to pour salt on the wound.
But maybe…maybe I can protect myself. Brace myself for the pain before it hits me full force.
Even as I open the journal, I hate myself. I hate myself even more as I start to read it.
Long, long minutes later, I slowly close the journal once more.
I still hate myself.
But now I hate her a little bit too.
Chapter 36
Lucy
Something is up.
Reece has been weird for two days, ever since Los Angeles. Not a big deal. He’s always weird. But this is different weird.
I thought I’d seen every side of the guy, but this is new. I’ve dealt with angry Reece, jerk Reece, teasing Reece, hot Reece, impatient Reece, even seen too few glimpses of sweet Reece.
But this? This is indifferent Reece.
He still talks to me, but only when spoken to. He hasn’t made a single complaint about the country music on the radio—I’m not sure he even noticed.
