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Friendly? I don’t think so. Not with a girl between them. “Who is she?”
“My best friend.”
Ah-ha! I called it. “But Shane looks like he’s the groom, so you were at that wedding as a guest on her side. Don’t you feel betrayed?”
“No.” Blackmore sticks his hand out, demanding the photo.
“You absolutely do,” I declare, oddly brave and nosy, and deposit the photo into his open palm.
“Do you remember how you felt about Hal telling me your history?”
His tone is beyond grave, so when I glance at him and find a smile, I blink and press my back against the seat. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. There’s not much to talk about anyway.” Blackmore tucks the photo into the compartment between our seats. “Shane’s not my enemy, and Juliette didn’t betray me. They both know how I felt about her. It’s all behind us now.”
He sounds pragmatic about it, but I don’t believe him. He’s too quick to explain everything, and everyone is too happy in the scenario he describes.
Blackmore remains silent for the rest of the drive. The tangible wall of tension formed by our churning thoughts is wigging me out. I’m not as happy to discover a hole in his seemingly impenetrable armor as I thought I would be.
“Turn right here, then right again,” I instruct him for the last leg of our awkward journey.
A few minutes later, the gate to our estate rumbles open, and I realize how it would look if Blackmore delivered me to the doors.
“Stop here.” I throw the seatbelt off and scan the dark hedges for paparazzi. They’re the worst, but I’ll risk them over my parents seeing me with a guy.
Once again, Blackmore reacts with utmost cool and puts the car in park. “Can’t be seen with trash like me?”
“Trash!” I exclaim. “I don’t think you’re trash at all.” I subdue a sigh. “I mean, I don’t necessarily like you, but I didn’t mean to give you the impression that you’re trash. It’s just that I can’t be seen with anyone. Can you imagine? If I bring you in after years of avoiding all people, my parents will decide you’re someone exceptional. You’d be forced to put a ring on my finger.” My mouth is a disaster. What am I saying?
He chuckles. “We could have a spectacular breakup. Just imagine. You could drench me in a drink this time.”
Laughing, again, I get out of the car.
Blackmore rolls down his window and leans out. “Laurel?”
Already the gates are closing, but I turn around. “Yes?”
He waits a moment before responding, and in that sliver of time, my mind races through all possible scenarios. He’ll ask for my number. He’ll ask me to say hello to my dad. He’ll ask me out—
“It was nice to meet you.” Blackmore holds my gaze for a couple seconds, then disappears in his car and backs down the driveway.
I grab the gate bars and watch him go. That’s it? He’s leaving?
There’s no reason for him to linger. There’s no reason for me to feel so disappointed either.
Steam fills my bathroom. I took a shower when I got home, but after a night of fitful sleep full of dreams of a guy with black and orange hair, I need another one to wash my thoughts clean. Every time I slid into sleep, visions of Blackmore disrupted my rest—him laughing, playing guitar, taking my hand… He did laugh last night, and he did play guitar, but he never touched me. My fixation with him concerns me. He didn’t even impress me that much. I must be starved for human contact, no matter how much I tell myself I don’t need it.
The grounding scent of my eucalyptus soap settles me down. The familiar white walls with gold patterns make yesterday feel like a hallucination. A waffle-woven robe waits for me on the golden hook by the door. Expensive lotions and other items of hygiene line the shelves behind my mirrors. Everything here is familiar, predictable, andsafe. I dab some rose-scented moisturizer onto my face, tighten the robe belt, and return to my room.
There I jump on the spot at the sight of Hal sitting cross-legged on my bed.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“Laurel, forgive me. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear. I just want you to—”
“—be happy. I know. I would be happier if you didn’t push me into the first friend of yours I meet.” I pull the robe tighter around me. “Can I get dressed before…anything?”
