Another nod.
“Thanks,” I tell her. “Have a good night.”
She leaves, giving a half-hearted bob of her head, and I lock the door behind them. I shut down the lights in the front of the shop and turn on some music, getting busy with preparing for tomorrow.
After tying up the bag of towels and aprons for the laundry service, baking three batches of brownies, and preparing dough for morning pastries, it’s well after nine, and I have three missed calls from Dylan.
I saw her call. I let them all go to voicemail, but she didn’t leave any.
I know what she wants. She’s got some free time at the camp and wants to gossip. And more than likely see if I’m going to the gym again tonight.
I’m not.
He’ll be there, though. If nothing else, just to chaperone me and cart me home afterward on my brothers’ orders. I don’t know how to explain it, but I don’t want to make it easy on him. If he wants to talk to me again, he can come find me.
As the minutes tick by, I stick to my guns no matter how desperate I am to see as much of him as possible. In twenty-four hours, he’ll be gone.
My stomach hollows out, and I lean into the counter, closing my eyes for a moment. He’ll leave, having seen me as a woman like I waited for him to and having talked to me as an adult. And that will be it. He’s not drawn to me.
I growl, pushing away the pain in my chest, and keep moving. I dig out some paperwork for Codi to fill out as I assume she’s open to being hired as a formal employee—at least for the summer—and then I finish up the last of the dishes. Turning off my Bluetooth speaker, I head to the front of the shop and switch off the battery-operated lanterns on the tables that Noel forgot.
The space behind me creeps up, and the hair on my neck rises. I jerk my head, feeling someone behind me.
But there’s nothing. The only thing there is, is my reflection in the mirror.
I let my gaze float to the left and right, a shiver coursing through me.
I was never scared of the dark, but I’m hyper-aware tonight. I shake it off and move to the bathroom, changing into my running clothes. For some reason, I feel safer out in the dark night than in here, and I hurry to dash outside and lock the door behind me before I jog out of the alley.
Sliding my phone into my pocket, I stick in my earbuds and start the playlist. One of my mom’s favorites, “Cradle of Love” plays.
I jog, taking a right down High Street and then another right, into the same neighborhood I ran through a couple nights ago. I pass the pool and Mr. Zellers’s yard, race up Fall Away Lane, and around the high school just as lightning flashes across the sky. I realize I’ve done a loop leading me back to Pine Street and Astrophysics. I don’t turn in there. I glance, trying in the barest of moments to not look like I’m looking for his car, but turn back away before I can tell if he’s there or not. He crossed a line this morning, and I’m not letting him get away with it like I do with my brothers.
I keep climbing up Hill Street, past Finch, and take a right on Lake, the area less populated.
And a little darker.
Lights from houses spill into their yards, and I see kids roasting marshmallows around a firepit, the adults with drinks in their hands.
Such a good town. Such a nice way to live.
I guess that’s what I should think.
Yet, all I can think about are Jared, Madoc, and Jax. They lived here and grew up in nice houses, but they didn’t always have nice people inside. My dad was rich and young and entitled with his first wife.
And my mom took her pain and drowned it in bottle after bottle.
None of this I’m supposed to know, but she made sure I knew exactly what her mistakes cost her.
She wrote her memoir and slipped me a copy years ago. She wanted me to learn through her.
All of them so scared of mistakes, so why am I dying to make one? I’d love to have a secret they’d all disapprove of because I’m tired of being quiet. No one hears my heart beat, least of all me.
I’m so lost in thought as I run that I hear the engine behind me rumble for half a minute before I actually register it.
I glance back, seeing a dark car coming up. Do they know their headlights are off?
I’m on the gravel, off the highway, but I inch over a little more to let the car pass safely.
