His whole face lit. “Oh. Okay—cool. Because I got asked to play at this bar downtown next Friday, nothing huge, but I thought it’d be nice to see someone I actually know in the crowd.”
“I’d really like that,” I said honestly. “Just send me the info.”
“I will.” Tyler’s grin grew wider. “And no pressure or anything. Seriously.”
“I’ll come,” I promised.
He started backing away, giving me a little wave. “Alright, I’ll text you. Drive safe, Hope.”
“You too.”
He started toward his car. And that was when I felt that undeniable sensation of someone watching me.
I looked over my shoulder.
Jay was leaning against the side of his black truck, arms crossed, keys dangling from one finger. He wasn’t even pretending. He’d blatantly been watching me. And he’d obviously witnessed my entire conversation with Tyler.
His navy eyes were shadowed in the fading light, but the expression on his face wasn’t at all subtle. I couldn't exactly put a name to it, but I could’ve sworn I’d read it in a few books before.
Brooding? Stormy? A tiny glower maybe?
My eyes narrowed, not backing down from his gaze as I opened my door and slid into the driver’s seat of my car.
“Insufferable,” I muttered as I backed out of my parking spot, headlights sweeping over the gravel lot. As I turned toward the exit, I caught a glimpse of Jay in my rearview mirror.
When I reached the main road, he stayed right behind me. Not too close, not tailgating. Just… there.
I gripped the steering wheel.
Every time I changed lanes, he would follow. When I slowed at a four-way stop, he slowed. When I turned on my blinker, his would flicker immediately too.
It was ridiculous how aware I was of him back there. It shouldn’t have made me feel anything. It was just driving—two separate cars, getting from point A to point B.
You’re imagining things,I told myself.
Yet, when his headlights washed over my bumper again, a shiver fluttered down my spine.
Thankfully, we were almost home, and I turned onto the winding road that cut between the sea of pine trees. The familiar silhouette of my little cabin came into view, a small shape tucked between the trees.
We passed it and something in my heart pulled at me seeing it again. I was surprised how emotionally attached I’d gotten to the decrepit little shack. Maybe I could convince Mason to rebuild it someday. It really was a beautiful location.
A few minutes later, the trees opened up to the walled-off lagoon where Jay’s cabin mansion rested. I turned into his driveway a moment later, parking in front of one of the additional garages. There were like five of them.
I cut the engine. My fingers lingered on the keys for a moment before I forced myself to get out.
Jay parked beside me and was already halfway to my trunk by the time I reached it.
“I’ve got it,” he said, reaching for my suitcases before I could touch them.
“Thanks,” I murmured, stepping back as he lifted them effortlessly. Even the one packed to the brim with literal books didn’t seem to faze him.
He nodded toward the front door. “Come on.”
I followed him up the front steps, the wheels on my suitcases bumping along the wood. When Jay pushed open the double glass doors, a white blur came barreling toward us.
“Hey, Lunita,” Jay laughed.
The fluffy Samoyed skidded to a stop in front of me, tail wagging so hard her whole body wiggled.
