The ease of talking to him scares me. Why am I letting my guard down so much?
“I’ll be right back,” I say, standing up. “I’m going to run to the bathroom.”
“Okay,” he says, taking another bite. “Come back soon or I’ll eat your hash browns.”
“Don’t you dare.” I laugh softly as I leave.
The bathroom is at the back of the diner. My eyes bulge out the second I catch my reflection in the mirror. My hair is horrendous. It’s frizzy and standing on end in every direction. I try my best to wet it, patting it down.
I can’t believe we’ve been talking for hours while I looked like this. What does he think? Did he notice? If he did, why didn’t he say anything?
I’m mortified. There are butterflies in my stomach, and suddenly I feel like I’m a kid again, overthinking what he thinks of me.
I run my hands through my hair until I’ve done all I can. It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do.
After using the bathroom, I take one more look at myself. I adjust my shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles, and walk out. I weave through the tables back to where we were sitting.
Myles is gone.
23
MYLES
I put my car in park and step out. I wish I didn’t have to park so far away, but I didn’t have a choice. There weren’t any closer spots available on the street.
I lock the car behind me and stuff my keys back into my pocket.
The hot sun beats down on me as I walk back to the diner. The coffee hasn’t kicked in yet. My body is so tired I’m afraid if I stop moving, I might fall asleep.
As I near the diner, I notice someone with dark hair out front.
It’s Emma.
I speed up, my walk turning into a jog, and the closer I get the more I can see she’s upset.
Her arms are wrapped around her waist like she’s trying to comfort herself. When she locks eyes with me, my heart sinks to the ground.
She’s crying.
Her eyes are rimmed red and tears fall down her cheeks.
I slow in front of her. “What’s wrong?”
She swallows, lip trembling. “Where did you go?”
“They asked me to move my car,” I say, completely consumed by the hurt on her face.
“Do you realize what I thought when I came out here and your car was gone?” She wipes the tears away with her arm, but they come back instantly.
I’ve never seen her this upset, and it makes me ill.
I stand there, numb, not knowing how to make her feel better. She thought I’d left her. How could she not? The second she wasn’t looking I disappeared.
She steps closer, pushing my shoulder. “You said you wouldn’t leave my sight,” she cries, voice cracking.
Her tears twist a knife of guilt into my chest, because I know I caused them. I told her I wouldn’t do anything to Mallory, but my words aren’t enough. Not after what she’s seen.
I need to do something to prove to her she can believe me, but my words are clogged in my throat.
