I tilt my head at the question. “Well yeah, it’s not my story to tell. Why would I share it?”
Her small nod makes me wonder if something else had happened that I’m not aware of. She’ll tell me in her own time, I’m sure. I’ll wear her down until she thinks of me as one of her best friends.
“Thanks.”
“No worries, but just as a heads up, you’ll probably want to create a statement soon, otherwise there will be rumours floating around.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Not to be a nag, but wearein the public eye, and people are like that.”
“Did you write a post when you broke up with your partner?” she asks suddenly.
I press my lips together. “No. But—”
The look she sends my way silences me. “So why should I?”
“I don’t trust Frank, and Melody and I weren’t public.”
Her face shutters. I think she’s going to shut down on me soon. I shouldn’t be pressing her. “You never met Frank.”
I take her hand in mine, enjoying the heat of her for a moment. “Anyone who thinks that cheating isthe way to last in a relationship is stupid. You deserve better, and he doesn’t seem like he was the nicest guy.”
She huffs a breath. “I’m going to go get a coffee.”
I’ve got a stupid soft smile on my lips that I have to push down. Her eyes narrow when she sees it, but she stands up instead of responding to it. “Sounds good,” I say.
Sitting back in my seat, I think about Melody, something I’ve rarely done since coming to Vancouver. She’s probably already moved on.
A post about my new place wouldn’t hurt.
It’s not like I already removed her from my bio and content.
I look at my socials. She isn’t heavily present in them, but she’s featured in a few photo dumps. A social wipe could be beneficial. A coffee cup is pushed in my face, and the scent of sweet nectar floats up to my nose. I catch Taylor’s green eyes and the way she’s trying not to be soft around me. “It’s decaf.” She sips her own cup, allowing me to watch the way her eyes flutter at the taste.
“Thanks.”
She sits beside me. “Don’t mention it.”
Maybe I pushed just enough.
Sixteen
Taylor
The flight was decent. Eloise fell asleep for a little bit, and I watched the first half of five different movies before trying to nap for the latter half of the five-hour flight. It didn’t work, and my caffeine fix didn’t make me sleepy like it sometimes does, so when I shook her awake and deplaned, we were sufficiently groggy.
There’s something intimate about watching Eloise rub the sleep from her eyes as we walked off and into the arrivals area. Something that made my heart just stop for a moment. The rosy cheeks, the creases from her hood, and her sleepy smile as she was waking up make her lookgood.
Just good.
Nothing else.
I sneak a peek at her in the backseat of the car that’s taking us to the hotel. She’s barely awake still, her hair hidden underneath her hood; each time we drive under a street light, she glows.
She’s a friend. Or she will be. We’re workingtoward it.
This trip will make us friends, I’m sure of it.
“Do you want to shower when we get to the room or go straight to bed?” I ask, trying to clear my throat subtly. She shifts her head, turning to look at me over with a smile and a small shake of her head.
“Bed. We can shower in the morning if that’s okay?”
