Page 42 of Her Secret Life


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“No,” he said. “What’s up?” He sounded brusque. Or...winded?

Oh. God. Was he with a woman? The thought should have occurred to her. You didn’t call a guy late without first knowing that he’d be alone.

“Nothing,” she said, embarrassed. Hot. Bothered. And...sad, too. “We can talk tomorrow,” she added quickly.

“Now’s fine, Kacey. What’s up?”

“It really was nothing. I’m just sitting here with a glass of wine and... I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about how late it was. I expect too much of you, Michael. Take advantage. I’m just...”

“Kacey!” He’d raised his voice to her. Staring at the phone, Kacey almost hung up. Except that she was so shocked, she had to find out what came next.

“Yeah?” The word was tentative. She glanced at the phone screen again, as though some message would appear. She needed to ask him if he did FaceTime. Or Skype. But she knew the answer. FaceTime was the last thing Michael wanted.

And the next thing she was going to nag him about...

Maybe. If he still wanted to be friends with her.

“I’m glad you called.”

Funny how a stomach could go from sick to sickly happy in the space of four words.

“I really was being selfish.” She didn’t want him to feel—as Lacey had all those years—that she was taking him for granted. Didn’t want to take advantage of him as she’d unknowingly done to her sister. “Nothing’s really up. Mom and Dad are asleep in Jem and Lacey’s room while they’re away. Levi’s asleep in his.”

“And you’re bored.”

“No!” With her feet up on the chair next to her, she listened to the fountain, watched the lights twinkling on the water as it fell gracefully over the rock. “I’m actually quite...content. I was just thinking about you.”

About how easy he was to talk to. She didn’t have to weigh every word with him as she felt she had to do with Bo and so many of her friends.

She didn’t have an image with Michael. Nothing to keep up.

He wasn’t responding.

“You okay?” she asked. She was pushing him into deeper emotional intimacy. She knew it but couldn’t make herself stop. She wanted more than a mentor. She wanted to be a mentor, too. Needed to be as good a friend as others were to her.

She couldn’t be just a taker anymore.

“I’m pacing out by my pool, with a second bourbon in hand.”

He never drank more than one a night. She sat up. “I’m on my way over.”

“No.”

“Michael...”

“Can we do this, please? Just what we’re doing? Can we just talk?”

She’d never been to his house. He’d never invited her.

She’d driven by, though. And had told him so.

“Of course.” She sat back, hurt but also relieved. Pushing her own feelings aside, she focused on him.

“Why two bourbons?” She sipped her wine. Enjoying every small taste. Knowing when the glass was empty it would stay that way.

The night air was cool. Really cool. But the sweater she’d borrowed from her sister’s closet was warm and cozy, as was her sister’s home behind her, complete with sleeping parents and nephew.

“Willie was expelled from high school today.”

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