I try to laugh, but my stomach is in knots. “Ha, yeah … I know Ijustsaw you at work … but what’re you doing tonight? I got another letter.” I blurt the last sentence out like I’m holding back some great secret, and the moment of silence from Harlee only makes it feel more so.
She finally lets out a breath. “You don’t sound like the letter is a good thing. You sound … apprehensive.”
“It just…” My voice trails off, and I suddenly feel stupid for being so nitpicky about it. “I don’t know.”
“I’m on my way,” she says. “Whatever’s in this letter must be important. I took a handwriting analysis class in college. I can totally try to analyze what’s up with him.”
“I mean, the handwriting is the same though,” I reason, hesitating outside of the elevator as the doors slide open. I decide to wait for Harlee, opting to also ignore the stares from the front desk lady.
“I’m just citing my credentials.”
“Got it.” I laugh, finding relief in my best friend’s humor. She’s seriously been one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.
And the moment she steps through the front doors of the apartment complex, I feel evenmoreof that relief.
“You look tense.” Harlee’s brows knit together. “You’ve got me thinking he said something bad. Do I need to take a trip to his side of the city? Because I will.”
“No.” I shake my head, pushing off the wall. “It’s more like … what hedidn’tsay?” I glance down at the envelope cradled in my hand.
“Okay, okay.” Harlee blows out a sharp breath. “I’ve got this. We can totally dig into it.” She hits the button for the elevator and the doors immediately slide open. “I wantyouto gather all the letters you have from him and lay them out on the table, andIwill order us pizza. I’m starving, and I need fuel to do this level of investigating.” The seriousness in her tone contradicts the grin on her face, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You should also totally change into something more comfy,” she adds, eyeing me as the elevator rises. “And spare me a pair of sweatpants too, because I might die if I have to wear these slacks all evening.” Her eyes drop to her work attire, which basically mirrors my own. She couldn’t have been more than a few blocks from me before I called her.
“I can supply sweatpants,” I confirm. “And I can also buy the pizza, since you’ll be providing your sleuthing services.”
She gives me a curt nod, her hair bouncing against her shoulder. “You got it. I’ll totally let you do that. Between you and my boyfriend, I’ll never have to buy another meal for the rest of my life.”
“Wait…” I narrow my eyes at her. “Yourboyfriend?”
A mischievous grin tugs at her lips. “I mean, that’s what he called himself as of a few minutes ago. He even popped the question. Well, you know, thewill you be my girlfriendquestion.”
“Aw.” I use my free arm to pull her into a side hug as we reach my floor. “I’m so happy for you Harlee.” And I mean it—I do. Even if there’s a tiny,tinypang of jealousy that accompanies that happiness for her.
“Yes, but that’s neither here nor there.” She dismisses me as she steps out into the hallway and heads for my door. “This evening is about figuring out what’s going on with your pen pal.”
We step into the entryway of my place, and I set the letter down on the kitchen island. “I’ll go grab the others.”
“I’ll order pizza.”
Over the next few minutes, I gather every single letter Weston’s sent me and lay them out in the order I received them, spreading them across the kitchen island like a paper timeline. Envelopes. Notecards. Folded pages softened from being opened too many times.
I even grab the jacket he let me wear on the walk home the night we went ice skating, and drape it over a chair. Then I go one step further and pull the red Superman cape from my nightstand, smoothing it out and laying it beside the letters like it belongs there.
Because it does.
Harlee sets her phone down once the pizza has been ordered.
“Okay … what’s the jacket for?” she asks.
I glance at it, then at her. “He gave it to me. The first night we really talked.”
She smirks. “Of course he did.” Her gaze drifts from the jacket to the cape to the spread of letters. “Wow, Brit…”
She leans in, starting to sift through the pages, smiling and giggling softly to herself. “He’s totally into you, but I already knew that.”
“Yeah … then he kissed me at the party—”
Harlee’s head snaps up.
