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I shrugged, wishing so much I could talk to Press about it. I pulled out my phone and checked, hoping he’d replied. He hadn’t. “I guess I should.”
“As for Press, his mother died; I’m sure that’s—”
“I can’t believe you said that. Do you think I forgot? I’m not that self-centered.”
“That isn’t what I meant. I was trying to make you feel better.”
I rolled onto my back. “I know and I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized how dependent I am on him.” I bit my lip, which did nothing to quell my tears.
“Have you tried contacting him?” she asked.
I nodded.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. And I know I upset you when I said this before, but he probably has a lot going on.”
“I know.” I covered my face with my hands. “I just…I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…I miss him.”
“What about Beau?”
“What do you mean?”
“You were pretty upset when you found out he had a girlfriend.”
I was still mortified whenever I thought about the way I’d acted that day. It was childish. Almost as childish as I was behaving now. “Press is different. Besides you and Jada, he’s my best friend.”
When tears flooded my eyes once again, my sister pulled me into her arms. “Tell him that.”
“How can I when he isn’t talking to me?”
She pulled back and looked into my eyes. “Grant him some grace.”
I nodded. She was right. I’d gotten used to him responding right away. Now, he had more important matters to attend to.
“Come on, let’s go find Ridge and let him know you’re ready to talk to the profilers.”
I got up to follow and left my phone where it was on the bed. If I brought it with me, I’d keep checking every two minutes to see if Press had responded. Like a teenager.
Since it wasmidnight in London, where the profilers were, Ridge, Seraphina, Jada, and I walked over to the main house. Laird was sitting on the front porch, smoking a pipe.
“Sorcha is inside,” he said, looking directly at me. “She’ll be happy to see you.”
I wanted to ask why, but that would’ve made me sound even more like a kid.
“There you are, lass,” she said when we walked in the front door. Even though she’d shouted it, she put her finger in front of her lips and looked down at the little boy asleep in her arms.
“We’ll come back later,” whispered Seraphina.
“That’s okay. I’ve got him,” said Bradley, coming out of the kitchen and taking the boy out of his grandmother’s arms.
“I hear there are people in London who would like to speak with you,” Sorcha said to me, holding out her hand so I’d sit beside her.
“I’ve decided you receive a report on the world’s happenings every morning,” Ridge said, chuckling.
Sorcha raised a brow. “You would be correct.”
He laughed out loud. “I’m not surprised.”
She turned to me. “Do you have any questions before you speak with them?”
