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“I wonder,” she said flatly.
I cleared my throat, suddenly awkward. Theywerebest friends. I guess it wasn’t a surprise if… “What did Pais tell you, exactly?”
“Enough to know you’re being a little evasive.” Still, she said it gently, sweetly—something in her voice so soft and caring. The tone of someone who was calling me out because she wanted me to be true to myself, not because she felt entitled to the truth. Emberlynn was too good. Bayview was too good.
I looked down at the floor. “I think… maybe she does. You know—care about me, like that. But I don’t think she knows she does. Aria told me the same thing, and I think she’s right.”
She hesitated. “But you don’t…?”
I tightened my grip on the phone. “What does it matter?”
“It matters,” she said, softly, sweetly. Not correcting, but… comforting. “Even if you leave and you never see her again, it’s a disservice to yourself if you lie about it. You’d have to grieve the loss of not only a friend, but a lover. And if you never let yourself acknowledge the grief as that, then you’ll never process it.”
I slumped backwards in the chair, kicking my feet up on the ottoman, casting my gaze up to where the end of the roof cut a jagged edge against cloudy blue skies. Her words sank into me like caramel into a batter, slowly against the surface until it was enveloped and suddenly I couldn’t tell where her words ended and my feelings began.
“Dammit,” I said, quietly.
“I’m not letting you hide from your feelings. I appreciate you too much to.”
“I wish you would.”
“Well, find a magic star to wish upon, because I’m not playing.”
I laughed, a small and hollow sound, and I took a second just looking for words—looking for anything I could say—but I jumped when the door flung open behind me, and I turned with my heart in my mouth as Paisley made a beeline from the door for me, and she draped herself over the edge of the chair and, unceremoniously, she took my phone, holding it up to her ear.
“Hey,” she said, putting on a deep voice. “This is Harper’s manager. Who has the audacity to be calling her while she’s out of office?”
“Paisley,” I hissed, snatching for the phone, but I couldn’t deny the incredible weight that came off my chest just… seeing her here. Seeing her come back.
Paisley made a face at the phone. “Emberlynn? Ugh. I was expecting someone interesting.”
Emberlynn’s voice coming down the phone didn’t sound thrilled. Paisley caught my hand as I reached for the phone—the woman had reflexes on another level.
“What were you gossiping with Harps about?” she said idly. “I swear, I step out for, like, five minutes to grab cake and you steal my girl.”
My stomach dropped, my face prickling. “Oh my god, Paisley. Will you give me my phone back?”
Paisley gave a horrified look at the phone. “You’re not tellingmethe gossip?Me?Paisley Macleod? The divine incarnation of the very ideal of gossip itself? You… you… a curse upon your lineage!”
Paisley hung up, handing the phone back to me, pouting.
“She wouldn’t tell me the gossip,” she said.
“I… put that together.” I stood up. “And you hung up my call.”
“Mm-hm. There’s a more important girl here now.” She took my hands, tugging me back towards the bungalow. “C’mon. I got dessert. Unless you’d rather hang with Emberlynn looking all sad, I guess…”
“Is that why you went out?” I said, my face burning as I let her lead me by the hand back inside. I had no idea what I was supposed to think right now—seeing her like this, still dressed up for me, wondering if it meant anything that she’d come back. That I cared this much that she did. “To get cake?”
“Well, ostensibly. Then I got distracted for a minute. And I ended up getting pie instead. But just c’mon! It’s a French silk pie. I know you like them.”
I did. And as I joined her at the bar counter by the window, taking bites out of it while Paisley talked about nothing, I enjoyed it a little too much. Even if it left me burning, floating in limbo.
Maybe we just weren’t talking about it. Paisley said shegot distracted,but I knew her. If she actually got distracted, she’d talk for half an hour about what she got distracted with. She needed a minute alone. I needed a minute alone.
And we’d both given it the space we needed to be able to pretend nothing had happened. That I hadn’t said anything I wasn’t supposed to. And it was such a relief that I wanted to cry, wanted to cling to her, except… well, that would be a bit unlike me.
After the sunlight disappeared off the ocean and the stars came out twinkling at the horizon where the waves met the sky, Paisley led me to the bedroom door, where I got a start at the sight—it was a beautiful room, soft blues and whites, and a four-poster queen bed draped with a light, lacy canopy, facing a full-wall window overlooking the water. A little too… romantic to be staying in as just friends.
