I hold up my hands and take a step away from the bed. “I really don’t need any details.”
My grandma giggles again, and my grandpa looks proud. He shoots her a wink, and the same sensation of longing that burned like a white-hot brand being pressed into my stomach at the sight of Rose and Anton is back. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. When Tess died, I shut down the idea of having a love like that.
So why am I longing for a partner right now?
It’s the Cinderella effect. It has to be. Which is stupid. I don’t know anything about her. Not anything real, at least.
“We were trying out an exercise routine from one of those videos on YouTube.” Gram talks animatedly with her hands, which draws my attention. “Did you know they make routines you can do right in your bed? Brilliant!” She frowns. “I didn’t realize how close I was to the edge, and I rolled over and plopped right off.”
“She started howling with laughter,” Pa says, continuing the story. “I couldn’t get enough leverage to get her back upright.”
“I told him not to bother you,” Gram hurries to add, shooting Pa a scowl. “We probably took you away from your fun before you were ready.”
“What was I supposed to do, Lottie? Leave you to sleep on the floor all night?” Pa scowls back. “I never would have heard the end of how you’d wrecked your back.”
“The real question here,” I interrupt, “is why you were doing a workout routine at midnight on a Saturday?”
My grandma shrugs. “Insomnia is a weird thing, Teej, and when the inspiration strikes to move my body, I’m going to take it. Keeps me young. Why not work out in the middle of the night, that’s what I always say.”
I massage my forehead. I have a faint indent from where the mask pressed into my skin. I wonder if Cinderella does too. I wonder what her face looks like. Does she have laugh lines around her eyes? Does the skin above her nose wrinkle when she’s thinking?
Focus, TJ.
“You can always call me,” I tell them. “I’m happy to help, but next time, a little more information would be appreciated, Pa. I thought something was majorly wrong. You scared me.” My voice cracks, and my grandparents immediately sober.
“I’m so sorry, dear.” Gram stands and crosses the room, pulling me into one of her pillowy hugs. She’s shorter than me by almost a foot, but her hugs are my favorite, and she always holds on extra-long. I relax into her, relishing the way she still strokes my back with her fingertips, even though I’m twenty-six years old. We have a shared history of getting really bad news—life-changing, soul-altering news—over the phone. Them, when my parents died. Me, with Tess.
“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Pa adds, clasping a hand on my shoulder. “You know I’m not good with texting. Takes forever for me to get these clumsy thumbs to do what I want them to.”
I smile at him when Gram releases me. “I know, Pa. It’s all good. I’m glad you’re okay.”
They follow me back out into their living space, which they have decorated like a beachside oasis. Their décor would be more fitting in sunny Florida as opposed to the grey-and-brown tundra of Green Bay in November. But it feels like home. Gram has always loved turquoise and orange. This is how our house was decorated growing up. It’s charming to me, and I feel instantly calm here … especially now that I know they’re safe and nothing is seriously wrong.
We make quick work of saying goodbyes, all of us stifling yawns. Gram and Pa promise to see me after our home game on Sunday.
I check my phone before pulling away from their house to find a handful of texts from the guys, asking where I went and wanting to know what was going on. I tell them that Cinderella got away because I went to my grandparents’ house. They won’t make fun of me for that. They all love Gram and Pa almost as much as I do.
I pause when I open a message from Ned, instantly feeling wide awake.
Ned
If you didn’t track down your girl tonight, I have an idea of how we can find her. Let’s talk.
Chapter 10
Lucy
It’s Friday night, and naturally, I’m holed up in my room at Daisy’s Inn. The remainder of a container of orange chicken and rice that I got delivered is balanced on the corner of my chair. My phone is propped up on the base of the lamp on the end table nearby, my computer open on my lap.
It’s been exactly one week since the River Foxes Gala. One week since I met TJ Wilson.
“How’s the word count looking?”
I pan to where Cassie’s face stares back at me from my phone. I look at my computer and click out of the internet tabs I have open and over to my document. “Almost ten thousand.”
“Look at you go! How do you feel about them?”
“Good.” I allow myself a small smile. It does feel good to be writing again. To be flexing and working an atrophied muscle. It’s been painful, but the good kind of pain. Something that used to be second nature now feels like I have to work a little harder at it, but I’m willing to put in the time. “I think they’re pretty decent.”
