“Your father died when he was only a few years older than you,” she says after a moment. “Watching you makes me realize what a baby he still was, how much of his life he had ahead of him.”
“Yeah,” I reply, though I’m not sure how this is relevant.
“I can’t tell you how much that hurts. And I can’t tell you how much I hate to see you not putting down roots, not getting for yourself the things your dad wanted, holding out for something that’s out of reach until it’s too late.”
“It’ll happen eventually,” I reply. “And I don’t see what any of that has to do with the way you treat Easton.”
She shakes her head, then closes her eyes as she releases a sigh. “Don’t you?”
19
EASTON
Avery
I wanted you to hear this from me first in case it shows up in the news. Thomas just got off Devon Hunt’s yacht in Portofino. He’s with Sofia Leigh.
He’s with her or he’s WITH her?
They were holding hands.
The message from my roommate arrived just as we were heading home from dinner. Two hours later, curled up in bed, my stomach remains tied into a sick, tight knot.
This is not what I’d pictured.
I pictured Thomas lamely attempting to be a party guy with a bunch of models in heels and flimsy dresses, and quickly realizing that no one else wants to talk about telomere length and autophagy.
I never pictured himdating, replacing me with an actress who’s tan year-round and twenty-five at most, known better for her rack than her intellect.
I’ve looked the photo up just to be sure and yeah...they were holding hands. He appears to find her fascinating. Do you hold hands with someone who’s just a one-off? I’m not sure you do. Thomas didn’t hold my hand until we were officially a couple—not until we were walking along the Charles after I’d slept at his house for the first time.
He’d already talked about marrying me, for Christ’s sake. So does that mean he’s at that point with Sofia Leigh? And how long ago did they meet if he’s already holding her hand? I was on the fence about doing the “Key West photo dump” but no longer am.
Fuck you, Thomas. If nothing else, you’ll know I’m too busy being wined and dined by my road trip companion to miss you.
I post a photo Betty took on our first night, plus two from the Dry Tortugas and I tag Elijah, as instructed.
The pilot actually took a great photo of the two of us—one in which Elijah looks like a combination of Jacob Elordi and Henry Cavill, yet somehow better than both—but I choose not to post it. It will look tooobvious, especially now that this photo of Thomas and Sofia Leigh is out in the wild. I can’t go from being a circumspect grad student who never posts pics of herself to one who posts every minute of her life like some beauty queen going through Bama rush.
I kick off my blankets as I send the screenshot to Kelsey.
I guess this explains why he had the sudden change of heart.
KELSEY
OMG. That absolute PRICK. Forget about the fake romance thing. Start a real one.
Does she mean...with Elijah?
I suspect Kelsey would be thrilled if I got together with her brother, but who knows? Sometimes you can love people, butnot love the DNA they’re bringing to the table, and I obviously bring a lot that’s questionable. Alcoholism and criminality from my family members. And just my general weirdness…the way I see science in everything and those strange facts I always used to share, regardless of whether anyone wanted to hear them.
KELSEY
I’m setting you up with Hawk’s best friend, Aiden, when we get to New Orleans. He’s really hot (don’t ever tell Hawk I said this), and I adore him.
Okay, I guess she didn’t mean Elijah, but I can’t fault her. If I had a brother, I wouldn’t want him to end up with me either. And, obviously, I’ve got no interest in going down that road myself.
I’m not counting Thomas out yet. Let’s give him a few more days to pull his head out of his ass.
