Page 21 of Hooked on Love

I don’t answer.

“Because it sounds like you’re making a lot of decisions about what she can handle.” He takes the last bite of his sandwich. “Sounds a lot like something someone did to you once.”

I go very still, his words dropping heavy in my chest.

He finishes his sandwich, crumples the wrapper, and stands. He claps a hand on my shoulder as he passes. “Go home, Jake.”

I hold out until 5:50 PM.

Then I pack up, wash the grease off my hands, and walk back to the apartment building. The whole way I tell myself I’m going back because I’m tired. Not because I’ve been thinking about her all day, or how desperately I want to see her.

The lobby hits me like a patriotic fever dream.

Red, white, and blue streamers cascade from every surface. Tiny American flags line the entryway in neat rows. A banner reading HAPPY 4TH OF JULY! stretches the full width of the lobby in letters large enough to be seen from international waters. There are star-shaped balloons everywhere. And unless I’m losing my mind, the elevator doors have been decorated to look like an oversized firecracker.

I have no choice but to stop walking to take it all in.

“Jake!” Danny materializes from seemingly nowhere like he’s been waiting for me. He’s wearing a red polo, white slacks, and an expression of pure delight. “You’re just in time.”

“For what?”

“I’m finalizing the rooftop party details.” He clasps his hands together in front of him. “Every year we do a gathering up top to watch The Tides’ fireworks display. Best view in town, I promise you that. Cocktails, music, the works.” He beams. “I was just about to deliver an invitation to Peyton’s door.”

I glance at the elevator, then back at Danny. I vaguely recall Luke mentioning the ridiculous number of parties the landlord here throws—any excuse to get everyone together. But I’m not usually around on the Fourth. I prefer to watch the fireworks from the water, like always. “She know about this party?”

“I mentioned it briefly when she moved in, but I wanted to formally extend the invitation, since you’re staying with her and all.” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with that particular brand of innocent mischief I’m learning to recognize—and distrust. “I don’t suppose you’d be joining her? The fourth is next weekend, you know. Plenty of time to make plans.”

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“Mmm.” He nods slowly, in the way that means he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying. “Well, the invitation stands. For both of you.” He smiles. “Separately or…together. Whatever the situation calls for.”

I stare at him.

He holds out a small, flag-themed envelope—the invitation sealed with a gold star sticker—and I take it. “Be on the roof by five if you’ll be joining the barbecue portion of the evening. Games start at three for the kiddos and the fireworks start usually around ten.” He’s already turning back toward the mailroom, waving a hand over his shoulder. “Oh, and Jake? Wear something nice. Peyton strikes me as a woman who appreciates the effort.”

I glare at his retreating, stout frame.

“Enjoy your evening!” he calls, disappearing with the energy of a man who accomplished exactly what he set out to do.

I stare down at the envelope in my hand. My name written on the front in Danny’s loopy handwriting alongside Peyton’s. I shake my head and head for the elevator.

When I reach the apartment door, I realize it’s unlocked.

I push it open and freeze, not expecting her to be home so soon.

Peyton’s on the couch, curled into the corner of it, knees pulled to her chest. She’s changed out of her work clothes into a pair of loose shorts and a camisole. The coffee table in front of her is covered in papers—documents alongside a manila envelope torn open at one end. Her phone lies face down beside her hand.

She doesn’t look up when I come in.

“Hey,” I say quietly.

“Hey.” Her voice is flat, hollow.

I close the door and toe off my boots before I cross the room and sit down beside her on the couch—not too close, not too far—and look at the papers.

She stares at the coffee table for a long moment. “The estate’s finalized.”

I stay quiet.