“He might.”
“Hewon’t. You are beyond talented, which apparently everyone sees but you. But listen up, Graham—you are way too hot to be insecure.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I’m not insecure. I just…”
“Don’t think you’re good enough,” she finishes.
Yeah. I suppose so. Sort of. IknowI’m good. I just always fear I can’t begreat. And that’s a hard pill to swallow when everyone around me is. My mother. My father. My sister. All great.
“It’s the curse of coming from a family of overachievers, I guess,” I say wryly. A lump fills my throat. “It’s like… What if I can never measure up?”
“I feel that way too,” Blake reminds me. She pulls out the stool next to mine and sits, reaching for my hand. “Everyone else is destined for greatness, and I’m destined for a boring office job I hate and my dumb hobbies.”
“I mean, most people work jobs they don’t love. That’s just life.” I squeeze her hand. “But your hobbies aren’t dumb.”
“I research things forfun,” she grumbles.
“Yeah, and you enjoy it. Isn’t that all that matters? Who cares what everyone else is doing?”
“See, you keep saying that,” she teases, “and you tell me to never compare myself to anyone else unless I want to destroy my self-esteem. Yet you’re sitting here comparing yourself to your family.”
“Haven’t you learned by now that people are shit at following their own advice?”
Blake laughs. “We should make a pact. Promise to keep reminding each other not to fall victim to the trap of comparison.”
A warm sensation washes over me. “I like that.”
This time, when she loops her arms around my neck, I don’t resist. I just hold her tighter.
Chapter 27
WYATT
THE NEXT DAY, THE RAIN has let up and the sun peeks through the clouds. Blake and I make omelets for breakfast and eat them on the deck while she types one-handed on her phone. Then she sets it down and takes another bite, only for the phone to buzz again. Her braid falls over her shoulder as she peers at the screen.
“So chatty,” I say dryly.
“It’s impossible to send the Spencers one text and not have it turn into a whole conversation.”
“What are our paranormal podcasters up to now?”
“They visited the lighthouse on the island a couple days ago, and Little Spencer insists he felt a presence.”
“We both know that didn’t happen.”
She laughs. “Probably not. But either way, I want to go out there. Wanna come?”
I pop the last bite of omelet into my mouth. “Sure. When?”
“Let’s go today. Make up for being trapped indoors all day yesterday.”
“Hey, I enjoyed our indoor time yesterday.” I wink at her. After we woke up from our nap, I rolled onto my back and made her ride my face. She didn’t seem to be complaining at the time.
She blushes, which only makes me grin harder. “It was very nice,” she says primly. “But now I’m stir-crazy. Let’s go to the lighthouse.”
“Is this where Raymond supposedly met up with Darlie’s sister?”
“Yep. And it’s also not far from the cinnamon ghost house, so who knows?” Blake waggles her eyebrows. “We might encountertwospirits today.”
