“Oh my God!” I screamed again. Adrenaline was now coursing through my veins.
“I repeat,what?” Jackson asked again.
I looked over at him, eyes wild. “I know who has Vermont.”
THIRTY
Reid
My foot bounced aggressivelyagainst the floor as I stared at my upturned phone. It was already past nine a.m. and I hadn’t heard from Hazel. Had she gotten home alright? Would I look overbearing if I texted her? I followed Jackson on social media and saw that he’d posted a story of them eating late night tacos at his place, so I knew she was fine, but still. I’d like some confirmation from the woman I was falling for.
She’d gone out without me last night and hadn’t even texted me to let me know she’d made it home safely. I wasn’t her keeper. She could do whatever she wanted. That didn’t mean I wasn’t confused. I’d been humming with energy and nerves after what Ithoughthad been an amazing evening with her and my family. I was planning to ask her to be my girlfriend. I’d been practicing the question the whole car ride home.
Then she’d just bolted and couldn’t even look at me.
My family was too much. Too overbearing.I knew it. I shouldn’t have subjected her to them this early. But she’d seemed like she was having fun, hadn’t she?
I raked a hand through my hair, frustrated by the situation.I’d already gone over everything I’d said to Hazel—and everything I’d heard everyone else say to her—trying desperately to figure out what had scared her off. I needed her to talk to me. But I’d give her space. I’d wait until she reached out.
I checked my phone again.
I mean, within reason. If I didn’t hear from her soon, I was calling.
“You look strung out.”
My heart stopped as I sprang up from my office chair to find West leaning casually against my doorframe.
I clutched my chest. “West? What the fuck, man?”
“I knocked,” he said, jerking his finger toward the front of my house.
“There’s a doorbell.”
“I have a key, why would I bother you?”
I groaned and shook my head. I was definitely changing the locks.
“I brought breakfast sandwiches.” He held up a white bag, grease coating the bottom.
“Kitchen,” I said, grabbing my laptop off its charging station and following him out into the hallway.
“You working on a Saturday?”
“No. I’m waiting on an email.” I propped up the laptop and hit refresh. Still no response from the security company. According to their email signature, their help center was closed on Sundays, so this was our last chance to hear back before next week.
West took the sandwiches out of the bag and lined them up on the table. “I brought one for Hazel, too.”
“She isn’t here.” I didn’t bother keeping the frustration out of my tone. West could sniff out one of my bad moods a mile away.
“Is she at the salon?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t stay here last night.” I didn’t need to clarify that I was unhappy about that. My voice said it all.
“Everything okay?” West asked carefully.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, man. I thought everything was fine, but she bailed on me pretty fast last night. Seemed a little off.”
“Oh.” West tapped his fingers against the table eyeing me and then dropping his gaze to the island.
