“Don’t,” I heard myself say. “Can we stay here a little longer?”
She shook her head as she stared at me. A loaded moment passed before she said in a whisper, “We can’t.”
Then, not taking her eyes off me, she came out from behind the counter and slowly walked toward the restrooms, which were down a hallway behind me. I turned around and watched in silence. She’d switched off the music, and I could hear the sound of my own heartbeat. I felt entranced. Cassie didn’t exist anymore. In fact, we hadn’t talked anymore about her all night. Already she couldn’t get between us.
I peeled my eyes off Reese to down the last of my drink, then made a decision. If she turned around before reaching the door, it would mean something. An invitation, perhaps. I wasn’t sure what I would do, but the air was starting to feel stale again, the tension in my shoulders coming back. Reese was only a few meters away, and I missed her already. That made no sense, but I did.
She turned around.
Her eyes were already trained on me, though I couldn’t read the expression in them. In that moment, I’d have given everything I had to find out what she was thinking. She stood still, watching me. I knew that if I got up now, there would be no going back. I was with Cassie, and Reese was well aware of that. There was a clear line in the sand. Getting up meant crossing it.
I got up.
I got up and the corners of her red lips turned up ever so slightly. Not a smile, exactly. An encouragement. That’s how I took it. I had no idea what I was doing. Whatwewere doing. Because she was in this, right? She’d turned around. The way she looked at me…deeply and without blinking. I walked over to her, watching her chest rise andfall, an exquisite feeling running through me. I had never felt this way before. Over the years, I’d grown more certain that the life I hoped for—the success and the glitziness and the money—I had to pursue alone.
And now I was about to fuck it up for good. But it already was, wasn’t it? In that moment, it didn’t matter anyway. I couldn’t stop my legs from bringing me to Reese. All night I’d inhaled her perfume, something earthy but subtle, and now it was filling the air between us again.
She didn’t move away or toward me. I was close enough to notice the freckles on her cheeks, and I still couldn’t have said how she felt. It had fascinated me all night, how unreadable she was, even when she shared the most intimate details of her life.
We were centimeters apart now. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it. She did the same. No words came out. Instead I ran my hands through her hair and pressed my body against hers, our chests touching, her warmth becoming mine.
Her own hands wrapped around my waist. She pulled me toward her as she leaned against the wall. My nose gently rubbed against hers. Her sweet breath melted into mine. I wanted to cherish the moment, but was too eager for the next. Our kiss was hungry, winded, our bodies almost still. Because if we moved, if we made any noise, then this would feel real. It was a small world. Anyone could see us. Small-town folks knew everyone around. Cassie could easily find out.
It was risky, so very risky. And it was too late already.
We still hadn’t said a word when Reese glanced toward the restroom door. A jolt of anticipation raced through me.
And then…she pushed me away.
“I can’t,” she said.
I opened my mouth to protest. She felt what I was feeling, too. Right? I wasn’t imagining it. But also, I couldn’t—shouldn’t—do anything to lead her into this. I couldn’t be the one who made it happen. I wasn’t going toscrew up everything for no reason.
“Please,” she added.
“If that’s what you want,” I whispered.
She swallowed hard but didn’t respond. So I did what I had to do.
I let her go.
Chapter 16
Taylor
Now
A year ago, a few weeks before Rae died, I was bringing breakfast to her room when she asked if I could close the door behind me. She’d been a plump woman before, but she’d lost a lot of weight and was barely recognizable. Her frizzy grayed hair was matted, and her complexion had turned dull with a yellowish tint. She was also coughing so much by then that talking, even for a few minutes, took a lot out of her. But that day, she knew her time was near, and she had things to say.
“When I go…” she started.
I shook my head, unwilling to think about that. I’d never been set in my feelings about her. On one hand, she’d rescued me. Who knows what would have happened if she hadn’t responded to the calls from Child Services. She gave me a home, a safe enough space. It took me years to understand why she’d done it, how a mother could love her child so much that she’d take in a stray like me just so her little one could have company. The next best thing to a real sibling. A family of three, again, even if it would never be the same since her husband had left. I knew Rae loved me, in her own broken way. But she wasn’tmymother, not the one I wanted.
And I’d blamed her for taking me in, too, when my own mom couldstill come back for me. I kept waiting for her. I would have done it forever but she died when I was thirteen, a couple of years after she was released from prison. She never responded to the letters I sent her, never tried contacting me. And now I was about to have no one left. The idea of more loss, more loneliness, felt crushing. I had tried all I could to keep the inn afloat, dreading any moment I’d have to spend with my own thoughts. But taking care of Rae had become a near full-time job and we had stopped taking bookings. Soon it would just be Cassie and me. No buffer, only grief. Thinking of that made my head spin.
“I’m worried for Cassie,” Rae said after a coughing fit. “I know she hasn’t always been kind to you, but I hope you have it in your heart to still be there for her.”
My heart twisted in a dozen directions. I couldn’t remember a moment in our childhood when Cassie and I played together for more than a few minutes, not one instance when we talked without dread running through my veins. I knew she’d use whatever I said against me later, how she’d make fun of me with her friends at school, refusing to let me eat lunch with them, leaving me out of their circle, like the pathetic little loner I was.
