Neither of us moves. Her hand comes up and rests against my chest—not pushing, just feeling. My heartbeat doing something embarrassing and fast underneath her palm.
I reach up and brush a strand of still-damp hair from her face. Her breath catches.
“Levi—”
“Well, well, well.”
The voice cuts through the moment like a knife through butter.
We spring apart. Delilah’s face goes pale.
Penelope Waters is standing at the end of the hallway, gym bag over her shoulder, smile sharp enough to cut glass. She’s about mid fifties in athletic wear that probably costs more than my first guitar.
“Penelope,” Delilah says. Her voice has gone flat. Guarded.
“Delilah Smart.” Penelope’s gaze slides from Delilah to me, and her smile widens. “And Levi Cole. Isn’t this cozy? Just like old times.”
“We were just—” Delilah starts.
“I have eyes, sweetie. I can see what you were ‘just.’” Penelope laughs, a soundlike wind chimes made of razor blades. “I have to say, I’m impressed. You move fast. Wasn’t it just last week you were telling everyone you were ‘focused on the business’ and ‘not interested in dating’?”
“That’s not?—”
“And Levi.” Penelope turns her attention to me, eyes glittering. “So sweet that you’re...reconnecting with old friends.”
There’s something in her tone. Something sharp and knowing.
She tilts her head. “But I know a lot about you. Or rather, I know a lot about what Delilah used to say about you.”
Delilah goes very still.
“Penelope,” she says quietly. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Make conversation?” Penelope’s smile doesn’t waver. “I’m just being friendly with my tenant. Catching up. Making sure everything is going well with the beach house for him.”
“You’re renting a beach house from her?”
I nod.
“So are you actually staying this time, Delilah? You do have a habit of leaving, don’t you?”
“That’s enough,” I say.
“Is it?” Penelope looks at me with something like pity. “I just think it’s interesting. That’s all. The twoof you, picking up right where you left off. As if nothing happened.” She pauses, letting the words hang. “But things did happen, didn’t they? Things you might not know about, Levi.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ask her.” Penelope’s eyes slide back to Delilah. “Ask her why she really left. Both times. Ask her what she told me the night before she disappeared.” She hoists her gym bag higher on her shoulder. “But maybe wait until after the wedding. Wouldn’t want to ruin the romance before the big day.”
She walks past us, close enough that her shoulder brushes mine, and pushes through the door to the parking lot.
The hallway is silent.
I turn to Delilah. She’s staring at the floor, arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together.
“Delilah. What was she talking about?”
“Nothing. She’s just—Penelope likes drama. She always has. It’s nothing.” But her hands are shaking.
