“Hey, can you do me a favor?” I finally ask.
Shaking herself out of it, she meets my eye. “Always. What’s up?”
I explain my worry for Wesley and Delilah, my unanswered text messages, and ask her to text or call her parents to double check that all is good.
“Oh, my mom said they’re fine. Lilah fell, and only wanted Wes to put her to bed.”
“Is Delilah okay?” I ask, worried.
Sophie reads off of her phone, “Yeah, said she just got a little scrape. I guess she was more shaken up than anything.”
I let out a sigh of relief and nod. “Okay, good.”
Sophie grins at me. “You like them,” she teases in a sing-song voice.
I can’t restrain my smile. “Yeah, and?”
She lifts one shoulder, smiling genuinely now. “It’s just nice. Seeing someone care for him like this. Care for Lilah the way you do. You’re good for them, Ivy.”
“I think they’re good for me too,” I say, warmth filling me from my head to my toes.
When we’re done with our game of darts, we return to our table, where I see a phone sitting. I tap the screen and see the background picture is of Delilah in what looks like Wesley’s sunglasses, giving the peace sign. It’s Wesley’s phone. Mystery solved.
Now I feel even more like a psycho for blowing him up when his phone was here all along. I wonder if I can guess his password, and delete my messages. I consider it for a minute, then decide that’s very on track for what a psycho would do.
Instead, I bite the bullet and text him one last time.
Ivy:So, I heard you two are okay. Sorry not sorry for blowing up your phone. I see you left it here at the bar. I’ll give it to Maverick to keep it safe until you can get here. I think everyone is ready to go home though. So I’ll see you Monday? I had fun tonight. Talk to you soon. Squeeze Delilah for me.
When I hit send, Wesley’s phone on the table vibrates and I look down to see my contact name light up the screen. It just says “Ivy” but when I look closer, I see he has a contact picture for me as well. My eyes focus on the smaller picture and I see what photo he assigned to my contact. I tip my head back and cackle.
No fucking way.
“What?” Sophie asks.
I turn Welsey’s phone around and point to the photo, and explain to her it’s from the hotel in Texas. It’s a close-up of me, drenched, with my hair slicked back and my face squished beneath a pair of tiny pink goggles that are covering my eyes. It’s easily the most unflattering photo of me in existence, but I’m strangely not embarrassed by it.
Sophie gets a kick out of the picture as well, claiming it should be my profile photo on every social media platform, and I don’t disagree with her. I hand over the phone to Maverick who’s tending bar, then say goodbye to everyone. I don’t miss the awkward goodbye between Sophie and Beau, and I wonder why her brothers seem to be so oblivious to their obvious tension.
When I get in my car, I can’t help the dread I feel knowing I’m returning to the motel. I miss Rose. I also can’t help how much I’m looking forward to Monday, when I can return to the place that actually makes me feel at home.
22
Wes
I notice the crowd has thinned out significantly when I step into The Whiskey Hollow. It looks like most of the regulars have gone home, and a majority of the patrons are young tourists. The table we were sitting at earlier is now empty, meaning Ivy definitely went home.
Maverick spots me, then walks over to the cash register, reaching his hand behind it and pulling out my phone. At least I found it. Anxious to get the stupid thing back, I stride over to the counter where he hands it over.
“Thanks,” I say
“Thought you were coming right back.”
“I was, Lilah needed me.”
Maverick nods in understanding. “Everyone left a half hour ago.”
“Did Ivy need a ride home?”
