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“I would have preferred to have you there,” I explained. It would have been nice to see a familiar face that didn’t want to do me bodily harm at the funeral—to even have a shoulder to cry on for once, instead of having to put on a brave face for the masses and entertain guests, rather than admitting I had just lost someone who meant so much in my life. “You didn’t even call.”
Flynn stared back at me, a mix of sympathy and guilt coloring his gaze. He closed and reopened his eyes slowly, as if the look on my face brought him too much pain to stare at directly. “It’s been busy, Lyndsey. I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to call. It’s been a while since any of us have heard from you.”
And there it was. The hard truth I needed to hear all along. I’d been the real weak link in all of this. The only one neglecting a whole side of my life for too long was me. I left for California and tried to never look back again. Could anyone blame me? Everything about this town reminded me of all the reasons I kept trying to run away.
Even Flynn, who I’d loved like a brother ever since I’d first met him at the age of five. He was Kyle’s friend at that time, two years older than me and every bit the jaw-dropping gorgeous male you’d expect for your first crush. But he was set on staying here his whole life, set on building a life here, and content to never see more of the world than what was published on other people’s social media.
I wanted to be that person jet-setting across the globe. I wanted to be the one to spend a year in another country just to try something new, to backpack through Europe, blaze trails across the Andes Mountains, and visit the sherpas in the Himalayas.
These were all the things I planned to do after earning the degree my parents insisted I have.
Now, all those dreams had gone up in smoke—literally.
“I know,” I said finally, quietly. “It’s...been busy.”
Another sigh, and Flynn took hold of my arm and led me to a seat at one of the desks. He pulled a chair up beside me and sat across from me, our knees almost touching. “Geez, Lynds. I’ve never seen you like this before. Are you sure this is all just because of your grandmother?”
“It’s a bit of everything. It’s all just piling up at the moment.”
Flynn leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, and adding, “So what brings you here, other than the assault warrant now out for your arrest.”
I squinted playfully. He was trying to lighten the mood. At least, I could try to play along. “Ha, ha. I need a favor.”
“Of course, you do.”
“Hey, now.” I wagged a finger out in front of me. “I believe you still owe me one after I was a wingwoman for that sexy waitress you had your eye on at the Christmas Eve party.”
“What?” He uncrossed his arms to hold them out at his side in confusion. “Three years ago? You still keeping track of all that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Flynn ran a hand over his face, as frustrated as the other men in my life appeared to be lately. “Lynds, I’ll help you if I’m able. But it’s time to put the scorebook away.”
“You’re just saying that because you still owe me like a hundred favors.”
He tipped his head to the side, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I’ve never actually needed help with women. I only asked you because you just looked so sad and lonely in the bar all the time. You know. I wanted to give you something to do.”
“Oh, really?” I laughed.
“Yeah. I mean, it was a pity ask really.”
This time, I only lightly tapped him on the arm. Though it was enough to trigger a defensive pose from him.
“Fine, I’ll help,” he said. “But then we’re even. Especially since I get the impression it involves something illegal.”
“It doesn’t. But someone set my house on fire a few nights ago, and I need to know who.”
He looked sincerely confused. “Isn’t that a job for the arson inspector?”
“They think I did it.” Which was absurd. They just wanted to write it off as quickly as possible, rather than launch a full-scale investigation. “They said I lit a candle in a room I hadn’t even been in and left it near a curtain.”
“Well, did you?”
I nearly leaped out of my seat. Not him too. “Of course, I didn’t.”
“Look.” He held out both hands in surrender. “Sometimes things get hectic and we forget doing things, going places.”
“I didn’t forget, Flynn,” I exclaimed. “I wouldn’t burn a candle, nor would I be stupid enough to leave it burning near a curtain.”
