“How could you not be sure?” I sit up, already throwing the sheet off my legs. “Willa’s shop is like a treasure cave—at least from what I’ve heard.”
“A treasure cave,” he repeats, sounding amused. “More like the stuff of nightmares. Have you seen those dolls she collects—”
I cut him off, squinting at him. “Wait. Did you go to the club yesterday?”
His expression shifts. Just a flicker. “Had another session.”
My stomach dips with the realization.
Lockwood.
I don’t say it. I don’t ask. I don’t want to push him into that place this morning when things are light and happy. Instead, I reach for his hand and squeeze once.
His fingers curl around mine, firm.
“Get dressed,” he says, voice gentler. “We’ll go early.”
“Before anyone sees us together?” I ask.
“If we’re gonna tell Preacher at the weekend then maybe having us spotted about town will soften the blow.”
I shake my head at that. I know we’ve been putting it off. But I know my dad. He’s the definition of a good person. He always sees the best in people and wants nothing but the best for me. I know he’ll support us. At least I hope so.
***
By the time we leave, I’ve forgone my ripped jeans and patchwork and safety pinned shirt in favor of a Fifties inspired sundress because I’m trying to look like a person who casually browses antiques and not a feral raccoon who will dive headfirst into a bin of vintage scarves.
Shadow’s in his customary dark jeans and a black Henley, his cut folded over his arm. It’s still early and Crow hasn’t opened up the tattoo parlor yet, so instead of sneaking out we walk down the staircase together. There’s something thrilling about that. About the way we can be just two people and not a secret.
But then he reaches out and hooks his pinky around mine.
My heart does a full-body swoon.
I look up at him.
He keeps his eyes forward, expression neutral like he didn’t just undo me with a single finger.
I squeeze his hand back, matching his quiet.
Willa’s antique store is situated in an old warehouse on the outskirts of Hart. There’s little to advertise what it is from the outside. It’s only when we’re closer and I get a glimpse through the windows do I see what’s inside—vintage hats perched on stands, an old typewriter, a cracked mannequin draped in a beaded dress that looks like it’s seen a hundred parties.
A bell jingles when we step inside.
The air is warm and smells like dust and lavender sachets and old paper. My whole body relaxes like I’ve walked into a church. Willa appears from behind a rack of coats like she materializes out of the fabric itself.
She’s only a few years older than me. She’s Lynette’s younger sister. I kind of know bits of her story through my dad, though I’m only starting to get close to the other old ladies. I takea pause at that…other old ladies. Once Shadow and I officially become an item, then that’s what I’ll be.
“Fawnie!” she chirps, and I barely have time to smile before she’s hugging me. Her arms are surprisingly strong. “I’ve been dying to get you in here. Your clothes are so cool, I love the way you dress!” she gushes. “Anyway, I kept telling Preacher that he needed to bring you here. But you know what your dad’s like.”
I smile at that. Fashion has ever been on my dad’s list of interests.
Willa continues. “Atlas was telling me that we were gonna die under a mountain of motheaten velvet. He didn’t believe me when I told him that it’s a goldmine. But then I saw Shadow and I know the two of you have been getting close and—” she stops midsentence and looks at Shadow.
“Hi,” she says breezily.
He nods in response then wanders off to look at a vintage record player in the corner.
“So you and Shadow…?”
