CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The thing about pushing the boundary of a dangerous territory—tragedy always follows. A crash. A burn. A body splattered on the cobblestone streets of Honey Brooke, taken out from a single mistake at a tavern that would haunt them until their last breaths and even in the grave as small-town gossip spiraled.
“Do your worst.”Laken’s words played over and over and over in my head, torturing me to the point of physical pain. The wrath in his eyes still burned in my mind, the anger we both knew meant so much more.
Or did it?
Laken could charm anything with a heartbeat. He did it all the time, any place. I hated him for it, I hated how easilyI could believe him. It probably meant nothing to him. So it meant nothing to me.
“I swear I’ll shove you off this bed if you don’t stop moving.”
I leapt out of my skin at Maggie’s voice, forgetting she’d crammed herself into the wall side of my tiny bed. Unsettling, but the perfect reminder that I had better things to worry about today—such as spending my last couple hours with my friend before she left.
And as my growling stomach agreed, what better way to spend the morning than a food tour?
Maggie rolled over in bed, her tired curls slipping over her questioning eyes. “A food tour?”
“Yes!” I replied, tossing my body up from the mattress as if someone walked in on me naked. “A food tour, you know? I take you around town and let you sample the best of what Honey Brooke has to offer. It’ll be the flakiest pastries of your wildest dreams!”
The best way to spend the day—and the best way to occupy my mind whilst keeping me away from Laken until I sorted my brain back out. My feet hit the cold planks of my floor as my knees scrambled to awaken. Staggering to my closet, Maggie finally said, “I do love food. I’m in.”
Victory.
“Great! But we have to make one stop first, and I’m going to need some of the brown papers you brought.”
We dressed and Maggie mocked how I’d upgraded my old boots for new ones instead of buying something different.I couldn’t help it; I loved my boots. They loved me. They were little parts of me.
As we got ready and made it downstairs, I didn’t look for Laken in the back. I knew I’d find him there. Since Maggie arrived in town, he’d offered to take care of feedings, and who would I be to reject? I didn’t look for him, I didn’t think about him, and I didn’t keep picturing his lips on mine.
I shut the door behind us. Maggie waited for me near the gate, but as I closed the distance between us, her stare alerted my “Oh no” senses. Everyone has a stare, the kind where you know something troublesome would follow. And my senses were right. I carried on as if I hadn’t noticed.
Continuing with my idea, we staggered into a field of wildflowers between the house and town. Everyone loves a good wild bouquet, and nobody was better at making bouquets than my wonderful friend. Throwing together a couple arrangements, hopefully I could sell a few throughout town. Maggie jumped on board; she’d never turn away the chance to show off her talent and passion.
My flowers didn’t look as stunning as Maggie’s. I’d never possessed the same love for florals as she did; everything I learned was from her. But they were good enough.
“Listen.” Maggie met me at my side, brushing through the tall grass. “I’m not going to ask what happened last night…yet.” I felt her gaze slide to me the second the last word emptied from her mouth.Oh, look. A pretty little bugleherb.Maggie stood two inches taller than me, and I knew her eyes batted without needing to look. “But please tell me before I leave.”
The way I saw it, there were three options:
Tell her now and wallow in self-torment.
Tell her in screams as she rides back to Old Ashton so she has no time to reply.
Never tell her at all and pretend it never happened.
Why did the last two have actual appeal in my mind? Because the first option made me want to set my skin on fire, crawl out of it, and run away with my bones and my pride. However, screaming it as she left would alert anyone in hearing distance, and not telling her so I can pretend it didn’t happen felt counterproductive and disrespectful to our friendship.
So I grumbled and whined and rehashed the past night’s events. Love was embarrassing. Hate was embarrassing. And whatever the hell had manifested between Laken and me felt a thousand times worse.
Yes, we got into a… dispute. Was it more? Was it less? Had I misread everything? Had I underestimated how difficult it would be to be around him? I didn’t have any idea.
Maggie’s dimpled grin and her avoiding eye contact made my stomach squeeze. The silence made it unbearable.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she sassed. “Nothing at all.”
I stopped yanking flowers from the ground. “Maggie.”
