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“You know where Gabe is?” Angelo asks her calmly.
“Yeah, but I’m not a snitch.” Her cell vibrates on the counter, and her eyes light up. “Oh my goose, it’s Matt, which means it might be Penny!”
My heart thumps on the double at the sound of her name. I sit up straighter, suddenly not giving a flying fuck about Gabe’s whereabouts. “Answer it.”
Rory looks at me like I’ve gone mad. “In front of you? As if!”
She flounces out of the room and up the stairs, cell clutched to her ear.
Angelo lets his fork clatter to his plate. “I knew I shouldn’t let her hang out with Gabe in the garage so much. He’s a bad influence.”
I frisbee the half-eaten toast at him. “Your wife just tried to poison me; I think she can handle herself.” Rising to my feet, I tighten my cufflinks and stride toward the door. “I’m off. Got shit to do.”
“Like what?”
“Like Googling what the fuck groveling means.”
Angelo calls my name as I cross the doorway. I turn and meet his half-grin.
“She was calling the hotline, wasn’t she?”
Jaw tight, I nod.
“And you were listening to her calls, weren’t you?”
I nod again, and my brother bursts into the loudest laugh. “Fuck me, I can’t wait to see how this pans out. When I found out Rory was calling the hotline, I just didn’t listen. If you’d just done the same, you’d be getting your dick wet right now.”
I glare at him. “You didn’t listen to any of Rory’s calls?”
“Nah. I’m not nosy, like you.”
“Don’t worry; you weren’t missing out on much, brother. Her confessions were shit.”
Before he can jump up and swing for me, I stroll out to the entryway, flipping him off over my shoulder.
Thedinerislityellow, the compressed chatter humming between its walls lulling me into lethargy. It’s gloomy outside—perfect nap weather. I can barely see the sky on the other side of the condensation-streaked window, but when I press my cheek to the wet glass, I can hear the wind whistling down Main Street.
My lids flutter shut. Man, I’m tired. Now that I know how it feels to sleep through the night, I don’t know how I ever used to stay awake.
The bell above the door chimes and a flurry of activity follows. I smile before I even open my eyes, because that’s one thing I’ve noticed about Rory, Wren, and Tayce. Every time they enter a room, a chaotic energy chases them in. The good, contagious kind.
“Oh my god, Penny! Are you okay?”
I crane my neck to see Wren click-clacking between booths, a flurry of baby-pink and blond hair. She slides in beside me and slings her arms around my neck. Her bubblegum scent makes my throat tight. “I’m fine, Wren. How have you been?”
She yanks off a glittery glove and swats me with me. “Worried sick, that’s how I’ve been.” Her eyes dart around my face, like she’s searching for something. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because anytime anyone calls you with a problem, your advice is to listen to ABBA’s greatest hits on repeat.” I turn to see Tayce shimmying into the seat opposite. She lunges over and plants a kiss on my cheek. She always looks so cool, and with her boyfriend blazer and oversized sunglasses pushing back her black hair, today is no exception.
“I get why you didn’t call Wren, but why didn’t you callme?” she says, dragging my milkshake toward her. “I’d have taken you on a crazy night out in Cove. We’d have danced on tables, slammed too many shots. Hell, I’d have got you so drunk you didn’t remember your own name, let alone Rafe’s.”
I laugh, but Wren doesn’t find it so funny. “Ah, lovely. And then at the end of the night, I’d be the one handing you flip-flops and holding your hair back while you’re sick in a trash can.”
“Probably shouldn’t volunteer to look after drunk people in Cove then,” Tayce muses, slurping from my shake.
“The kindness of volunteers keeps the world turning, honey,” Wren huffs. She glances up at the cash desk. “What’s Rory doing?”
I follow her gaze and see Rory handing an over-stuffed envelope to the girl behind the desk, an apologetic smile on her face.
