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We’ll be back Fri afternoon. I cleared my Sat and u r finally going to spill what the fuck is going on.
I guess Den has made the decision for me.
Biding my time until Saturday,I hide in my room. Natty comes in a few times and tells me about everything I missed. I was so preoccupied with the entire trip that I didn’t realize how much I missed her little face. The first time she walks in, I jump up and hug her so tight that she pats my back. "Ca-n’t brea-the."
Laughing, I let her go. This little girlismy sister, my family—no matter what.
Rhys checks on me via texts, and on Friday, he even calls when I don’t respond immediately.
"What’s wrong? Why aren’t you answering?"
"I was in the shower," I deadpan, clamping my phone between my shoulder and ear so I don’t lose my towel.
"Oh."
I chuckle at his reaction. We chat for a few minutes before I hear Wes in the background, yelling for him to get moving. As soon as we hang up, I stare at the blank screen. It happened again. When his picture lit up on the screen, my heart started pounding double-time, the same way as in the hotel room. My mind is racing, searching for a logical explanation. It can’t be what my brain tells me it is. It. Just. Can’t. Swallowing hard, I resign myself to the fact that I may have to let Den in oneverything.
All evening,I go over my conversation with my best friend. How it all started, what I’ve learned this last week, and the second elephant in the room—my adopted brother’s feelings. Around midnight, I force myself to go to bed. I’ve bitten all my nails down to the nailbed—something I have never done in my life. I don’t even like chipped nail polish. Now they look...I don’t have words.
I’ve just turned off the light and settled on my pillow when there’s a soft knock at my door. The fluttery sensation in my stomach returns full force.
No, no, no.
The few times I ventured downstairs, Rhys was nowhere to be seen. This would be the first face to face since he left me with Heather in the garage yesterday. I turn away from the door, clutching my hands to my stomach under the covers, and squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe he’ll just go away, but of course, the door slowly swings open, and I hear a few muffled footsteps. I hold my breath.
Go away! Go away! Go away!
I can’t take any more weirdness in my life, and my physical reaction definitely is—weird, that is. Eventually, the door closes again, and I exhale a long shaky breath.
I think I sleep for about two hours that night.
I meetDenielle at Magnolia’s, our favorite little café. It’s located downtown. The entire street is lined with older, historic houses that have been restored to their original state. All the buildings are painted in pastel colors, and Magnolia’s exterior is no exception with its soft pink. I often wonder which came first: the name or the paint color. The inside is cozy with rustic-looking chairs and benches. Everything is mismatched and gives the entire place an intimate feel. People hang out here for hours to work or just read.
Den beat me here this morning, which has never happened in the entire time I’ve known her. Usually, I have to tell her to be somewhere at least thirty minutes earlier if I want her there no more than fifteen minutes late. I’m barely through the door when she barrels into me and envelops me in a bear hug. Her favorite perfume immediately surrounds me, and I take in the familiar scent of florals, exotic spices, and Moroccan incense. Pulling back slightly, she gives me a once-over with her eyebrows knit together. "Babe, you look like shit."
Here we go already. I try to brush it off. "Sugarcoat much?"
"You know I call it as I see it. That’s why you love me."
I give her another squeeze and say into her ear, "True."
Complete and utter honesty has always been the foundation of our friendship. We don’t talk around things to make the other feel better. We say it as it is.
I watch her walk to our table while I order my usual tea and bagel. This time, it’s my eyebrows that narrow. What the—? Den rarely dresses casual outside of the house, but today she is wearing black leggings paired with a bright-red, long-sleeve workout shirt, and a massive blanket scarf wrapped all around her. And when I say massive, I mean king-size-blanket big. The outfit accentuates every curve. She totally pulls it off, but I wonder what has brought this on? She usually chews me out when we meet up and I wear anything less than casual jeans.
"Your friend has quite the...presence," a deep voice drawls into my ear.
I turn and come face to face with a guy I’ve never seen here before. I know most of Magnolia’s regulars, and he’s not one of them. And he is way too close in my personal space. I take a step back, bumping into the bar in the process. My elbow knocks over the pile of lids for the to-go cups, and they go flying everywhere.
Shit.
I start picking up the little plastic disks when a hand lands over mine. "Let me help. I didn’t mean to startle you." His tone is low as if he has to force himself to sound...friendly?
I instinctively pull away and take a closer look. Despite his semi-clean appearance, something is off. He is probably in his mid to late forties, tall, with dark curly hair sticking out in every direction. This close, his eyes have an eerie glow to them; the blue is so light it’s almost white. His clothes have a musty smell that envelopes me, and I force myself to not take another step back. I can’t put my finger on it, but his outfit doesn’t fit right, like he usually doesn’t wear these clothes.
"It’s okay," I mumble, but I hear Madeline’s voice in my head.If he gets back on your trail, he will find you.The urge to get away from the guy becomes almost too much to keep me in place.
Thankfully, the barista puts my order on the counter at that moment. "Here you go, Lilly."
