She’d get over a couch—eventually. But how did she get over Alec, the man she loved since she was five? She didn’t want to hurt him. Again.
It wasn’t fair.
“Why now?” she asked the empty room. They were finally talking, both available, not too young, not too old, and far removed from family grief.
Maybe it was just the unfamiliarity. First times were often awkward, weren’t they? Maybe heat needed time to build.
She wanted to be with him again and test her theory, but the calendar wasn’t good. He had a case for the next three nights. She had morning shifts, classes, and Regina’s events in the evenings. Friday was their earliest option.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” she breathed. “I need to think.”
With gray morning light seeping through her blinds, she rose and headed for the shower—leaving the couch unburned. For now.
Chapter 9
Running on two hours of sleep and one lonely coffee pod—she’d been too busy lately to restock—Emily finger combed her hair into a messy bun and trudged downstairs for her mail. She felt the beginnings of a headache behind her eyes, the kind that made even breathing effortful.
She took the back stairs to avoid human interaction. She’d almost succeeded, but, as usual, the universe liked to mess with her. She had just pushed open the stairwell door to return upstairs, when Julia rounded the corner.
“Hey, Em!” she called.
Short of ignoring her, Emily was stuck. She turned with a half smile—all she could muster.
“Rough night?” Julia asked, giving her a quick once-over that landed somewhere between sympathy and alarm.
“Rough is an understatement, and I’m out of caffeine,” Emily muttered wearily. “If you’re a true friend, you’ll lend me a coffee pod.”
“Sure. Let me grab my mail first.” When Julia returned, she tossed a pile of glossy ads straight into the trash. “Nothing but junk.”
“It beats a bunch of past-due notices,” Emily replied, holding up the depressing stack as if they were evidence in a trial.
“Hello… what’s this?” Julia plucked a black envelope trimmed in gold from amid Emily’s pile. It was thick, expensive paper—velvety to the touch—and looked wildly out of place between her overdue bills and coupon mailers.
“There’s no stamp,” her friend noted, flipping it over. “And no return address. It must’ve been hand-delivered. That’s either mysterious or serial-killer creepy.” She held it out, eyes gleaming. “I’m dying of curiosity. Open it.”
Emily hesitated. A prickle crept up her spine. “You do it.”
Julia didn’t need convincing. She slit the envelope with the enthusiasm of someone unwrapping forbidden chocolate. When she pulled out the embossed card, she gasped. “Emily! This is an invitation to Devil’s Pointe.”
“There’s no way that’s for me,” Emily said, her stomach dropping. “The mailman must’ve put it in the wrong box.”
Julia shook her head, her springy curls bouncing. “Nope. It has your full name, printed in gold. Someone wanted you.”
Emily snatched the envelope from her. “Why would they invite me? Except for please and thank you, I didn’t talk to any members except Deanna.”
“It could be from her,” Julia mused then smiled, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You have to go.”
“By myself? Are you insane? That’s how horror movies start.”
Still, her fingers lingered on the card, tracing the raised lettering before she could stop herself.
Julia pointed to the RSVP. “It says you can bring a plus one. What about—”
“No. No, no, no!” Emily cut in, her pitch rising. “I can’t ask him!”
The panic was instant and visceral. Inviting Alec into that world felt like stepping off a cliff—not because she didn’t want him there, but because she didn’t yet know what she’d be asking of him.
“Him?” Julia’s brows shot up. “Wait.Himhim? Why not?”
