But the next morning, both of their phones started buzzing at seven a.m.
“What the actual fuck,” Dylan said. Her hair—or maybe it was Ramona’s—was spread across her face, and her eyes felt gummy.Ramona stirred next to her, gloriously naked, and slapped at her own phone on the nightstand.
“It’s me,” she said.
“No, it’s me,” Dylan said, not moving. “Death awaits the caller.”
Ramona squinted at her phone. “Mine’s a text.”
Dylan’s phone stopped buzzing, only to start up again a second later.
“Fuck, it’s Laurel,” she said.
Ramona sat up, her hair a beautiful mess. “How do you know?”
Dylan still didn’t move. “Repeat calls. Gotta be her.”
“You better answer, then.”
Dylan just groaned and closed her eyes again. Repeat calls from Laurel were never a good thing, and she’d enjoyed her day off yesterday in sex-addled, romantic bliss far too much to start this bullshit so early.
“Who’s yours?” she asked, her phone already starting to buzz a third time.
Ramona was quiet for a second.
Dylan cracked open an eye. Ramona blinked at her phone, then caught Dylan’s gaze.
Smiled.
“It’s Noelle,” she said softly. “She needs me to run to Concord for some boots.”
Dylan nodded, but she felt her shoulders go tight, even lying down in the bed. They still hadn’t really talked about Ramona’s new job. Dylan had wanted yesterday to go on and on, simple as that, but now that same terror from before was back, that small sensation in the center of her chest that made her feel like she was shrinking.
“You should get going then,” she said. It just came out. She knew she needed to be honest, needed to justtellRamona what she wanted, what she wondered, what she was so afraid of. But beinghonest with people about how much she cared about them had never been easy for her. Deflecting, as her therapist would call it, was natural, a reflex.
And as her phone buzzed for the fourth time, she knew she didn’t have the time or energy to get into this emotional minefield with Ramona right now. She sat up and grabbed her phone—sure enough, Laurel’s name flashed over the screen—while Ramona got out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
“Yes, darling?” Dylan said into the phone after sliding her finger across the screen.
“Hey, wanted to give you a heads-up,” Laurel said, wasting no time. She was used to Dylan’s deflections by now, and rarely called attention to them unless absolutely necessary.
“About what?” Dylan asked. “Should I be nervous?”
“Depends. Are you over Jocelyn Gareth?”
Just the name made Dylan’s stomach tense. Not that she’d tell Laurel that.
“Overher?” she said.
Laurel sighed. “You know what I mean.”
“Why are you—” Dylan froze. Closed her eyes. “She’s coming to set, isn’t she?”
“She is. Today. I just got the confirmation. She’s been out in North Carolina with Ruby’s family.”
“How lovely.” Dylan pressed her fingers into her eyes and squeezed.
“Look,” Laurel said softly. “I’ll be on set today too. You don’t even have to speak to her, but…”
