HABIT, page 20
My focus drifts to Morgan next, her eyes suddenly on mine. Without peeling her focus away from me, she reaches into her purse and pulls out the badge I returned last night and presses it against the security pad. It beeps, drawing our stranded visitor’s attention and he tugs the door open fast, tossing out a dismissive, “Thanks, bro,” as he rushes through the door.
Morgan bends her wrist and drops her badge back into her purse, all the while our eyes lock, and after a few long seconds, she grins. I breathe out a laugh and start a dramatic slow clap that finally pulls a bona fide, out loud laugh from her lips.
Our moment is busted up when Cameron bursts through the door, Theo, Brooklyn and Lily tagging along behind him. I get to my feet and position myself so Morgan is forced to look at me, unless she decides to close her eyes, which at this point wouldn’t shock me.
“I am starving! Morgan had Biff’s the other day and now I want it, too,” Lily proclaims.
Morgan’s eyes flit to mine, and the same smirk she wore a few seconds ago after flashing her badge appears.
“Ugh, I hate those fucking hot pickles,” Theo exclaims.
Again, Morgan’s and my eyes meet. I lift a brow and she shrugs. Seems I’m not the only one who can’t handle that mystery spice.
“Please? I really want their fries. I’m kind of hangry!” Brooklyn grumbles.
“Aw, shit. Save us all, this girl is hangry,” Cameron jokes.
Brooklyn punches his arm, and he swiftly swings it around and catches her in an awkward bear hug that lasts longer than something should between two friends. They’re flirting, and again, Morgan and I exchange glances.
“It’s Lily’s night, so what Lily wants, Lily gets,” Morgan announces. Her point is hard to argue with, especially after the moving moment we all shared thanks to Lily.
We all make our way to the parking lot and split up, Brooklyn and Cameron climbing into Brooklyn’s SUV and Lily and Morgan joining Theo in his car. I make a rash and desperate decision and hop in the back seat next to Morgan, and she doesn’t seem to protest, which only builds my hope.
We pull out of the lot and onto the dark side road that leads to the main highway. Theo and Lily clasp hands as he drives, and I envy the little things between them, like the way his thumb strokes the edge of her palm. Looking down, I glance to Morgan’s lap where her hands are clasped together on literal lockdown, and I breathe out a sigh. It comes out louder than I expected, and she gives me a sideways glance.
“Just dreading the pickles,” I say.
She doesn’t laugh at my joke this time.
I spend the next few minutes thinking of something else to say, eventually sharing that she left her badge in my family’s truck. I mention it to hopefully draw on that night in her memory. I do it for a reaction. But all she says is, “Ah.”
Lily must see me struggling because she eventually takes over leading the conversation.
“What was your grade on that paper I read, James?” she asks. It takes me a few minutes to transition my brain to talking about my lit course and Lily’s tutoring, especially because all I can seem to think about is how far away Morgan is for being so close.
“I got a B, I think. I don’t really remember,” I say. I got a B minus, actually, but I don’t want to talk about my English homework right now. I want to talk about why Morgan and I aren’t talking.
“I’m sure you will do better on the next one. It was a hard work to compare. I think the next piece is a short comedy.” Lily turns to catch my attention and I try to piece together what she said.
“I like comedy,” I come up with. Fucking idiot.
She smirks and sits back in her seat.
“Well, that’s good, then,” she says.
We travel another two blocks in complete silence, and I would give anything for Theo to turn up the volume on his stereo. As it is, it sounds like I’m listening to some pop song through a bathroom door, most of the sound pushed to the front speakers, and the volume set to low.
“My dad had a stroke,” Morgan blurts out.
Theo punches the brake at a stop light, and we all fling forward. I brace myself with a palm on the back of his head rest, and Theo and Lily twist in their seats to glare back at Morgan. Her gaze is fixed out her window, the only thing visible a cluster of metal guard rails that seem to have been used to stop a dozen crashes in the last year.
“Are you all right?” Theo asks.
Morgan slowly turns her head and meets his concerned face.
“About my dad? Yeah, I’m fine. He’s all right. I just . . . thought I’d share,” she says.
Theo’s eyes flit to mine and I offer a quick shoulder shrug. Lily reaches back and holds out her hand, and Morgan stares at it for a few seconds before taking it in hers.
“I’m so sorry,” Lily says.
“Don’t be.” Morgan’s response is fast and it catches Lily a bit off guard. She lets go of her friend’s hand and looks to Theo who whispers, “Long story.”
The light changes and Theo returns his attention to the road. Lily turns back to the front, too.
I’m still leaning forward, my safety belt snug against my chest and hips as I continue to study Morgan’s face. It’s practically void of emotion, though I know in my gut that underneath the surface is anything but calm. She may hate her father for many reasons, but a health scare still triggers a reaction in hearts and heads. Given her history with her dad, she’s likely struggling even more.
Mustering the courage to take her wrath if that’s how she decides to react, I reach my hand over slowly until my fingers brush against her arm. She looks down as my hand wraps around her forearm, and her gaze pops up to my eyes soon after.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice hushed as I work to make this as private as possible in the back seat of our friend’s car.
She looks at me and blinks, her mouth a straight, unfeeling line.
“You didn’t stick around to talk,” she says.
My brow furrows, and she seems to give up on explaining but then suddenly turns back to face me, jerking her arm from my touch.
“I waited all night for you to show up. You brought over my ID and left, and I thought surely, he wants to talk. Why would you bring something so trivial over late at night only to run away before I got home? Unless you were sneaking out and keeping me hidden from your dad, who thinks I’m a terrible, horrible person. Or maybe you needed to get to the field to throw a hundred passes at midnight for your precious football. Or maybe you just wanted to show me off to your friends back home, brag about hooking up with Hot TikTok Girl. I know what people call me. I thought you were better than that, though. I guess I was wrong. You’re just like Toby Sullivan, only he’s bold enough to know he’s a dick. You’re still pretending not to be.”
She’s panting when she finishes her verbal assault. My pulse stopped somewhere around the part where she said precious football. None of this is going the way I want it to, and I feel like I’m running out of opportunities to get things right.
“Morgan, I’m sorry,” I say in a whisper, leaning toward her. As if Theo and Lily aren’t hearing every word of this. Hell, Morgan was so loud I’m sure somehow Brooklyn and Cameron had full audio in their car behind us.
“You’re sorry,” she says through a heartbroken laugh. “Tell me, James. Does your dad know where you’re at right now? And who you’re with?”
My eyes widen at her indictment, only a hint, but it’s enough for her to notice and tear my reaction apart.
“Why are you even here? Nobody wants you. I don’t want you. In fact, I can hardly stand you,” she says, her eyes narrowing with a special kind of hate.
My chest grows hot, my heart twisting at her fury and pain. I know she doesn’t mean any of this, but as poor as her parents are at showing affection, she’s only every known the dramatic pushes and pulls. Before she can say more, I lean forward and undo my seat belt.
“I’m getting out here. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” I say at Theo’s ear. His eyes meet mine in the review mirror a second before I open the door and step onto the roadway.
I push the door closed and stare at Morgan’s profile, her arms crossed over her chest and her legs crossed as to close herself off from me as much as possible. I’m so angry at myself for losing her like this. And I’m angry at myself for falling for her in the first place because now I know how good she is, and unrequited feels fucking terrible. And I’m mad at my father for passing judgement on her so fast, for thinking that she, of everyone in this damn school, would be the one to ruin my shot. Not the Tobys of Welles, or my own damn self, but Morgan Bentley.
Theo pulls through the intersection as the light changes and I step back a few feet to wait for Brooklyn’s SUV to catch up, letting the two cars that were between us on the roadway pass. Brooklyn flashes her hazard lights and pulls to a stop right next to me, the car behind her blaring its horn.
“What’s wrong?” she asks out her window.
I grab the handle for her back seat and hop in before we hold up traffic for too long.
“Morgan kicked me out of the car,” I say as I buckle up and get settled in my new ride.
Brooklyn laughs for a second then looks up to peer at me in her mirror.
“Dude, you and me both.”
I give her a wry smile that quickly fades, then sink into the back seat and practice everything I’m going to say at the restaurant when I see her again. She may think I gave up, but I’m just getting started. There is no way I’m letting her get away without bleeding my heart dry to prove to her how sincere I am.
Chapter 19
Morgan
Theo keeps eyeing me in the rearview mirror. I wish he’d just say whatever is on his mind. He and I aren’t so different. It’s the reason we always got along so well. It’s also the reason we sometimes loathe each other. When you’re so similar to someone, you understand their motivations and bad behaviors as much as you do the good stuff.
We pull into Biff’s parking lot and Theo backs into a spot. Lily opens her door, and I move to escape the back seat. But before my hand hits the handle, Theo holds up his palm.
“Lily, can you give us a second? Maybe order me a seven? Cherry coke?” he says.
“I’m fine. We can go in,” I protest.
“Nah, you’re not. Sit tight,” he scolds.
I’m not sure what pisses me off more, his sarcasm or that he’s parenting me.
“No, really,” I reiterate, moving again to leave the car.
He turns in his seat, his eyes leveling mine with a look that pins me in place and cuts through my layer of bullshit.
“I’ll just order for all of us. Morgan, seven for you too?” Lily knows my order.
I swallow and mutter, “Sure.”
Lily escapes the tension-filled car, and the moment her door closes, the space inside gets tighter. I flop back into my seat with a heavy sigh and match Theo’s expression, one of defeat and embarrassment and resentment.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” he says.
I laugh out once and fold my arms over my chest, glancing out the window to my right. When I look back at him, he’s still staring at me with the same pitiful, straight-lined mouth and sad eyes. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable in my own skin, and a tear pricks the corner of my eye. I wipe it away with the back of my palm.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“It’s not fine, and I get all the reasons it’s not.” Damn him for understanding.
I meet his gaze again and allow myself to break for a breath. Sniffling, I nod, keeping my chin up to guard against letting too much of the messy feelings slip in.
“The last time I saw him, he was using me to set up one of his targets for a media hit,” I say, knowing Theo won’t need the details. He probably saw the blitz that hit the tabloids and websites. Fewer people saw the retractions that came out a day or two ago. Nobody cares when people get shit wrong. They like the scintillating lies.
“Did you say some things to him?” Theo asks. I get what he’s asking—whether I left my father that day on bad terms. But I didn’t really. I left him the way we’ve always been.
I shrug.
“It was the same as any other day with Christopher Bentley. He bought some mimosas, I drank half. I mentally swore I’d never talk to him again, but who knows.”
Theo nods, probably having sworn the same thing about his mother more than once.
“You should probably see him, ya know? For yourself. You don’t have to linger around the hospital and visit. I mean, he’d probably try to get you to help him take over a hospital system.”
I bust out a loud laugh and we both smile at the truth to his joke.
“I know I should,” I admit. “Maybe I’ll go with Braden. Not sure I can take my mother’s drama over it right now. I’m sure the sky is falling.”
“Her husband did have a stroke,” Theo counters.
I wobble my head.
“And I’m sure she is telling all of the ladies in her club about it. While not visiting often,” I add.
Theo’s mouth tugs in on one side with a short laugh in understanding.
“Wanna talk about James?” His brows rise.
I meet his stare for a breath, then look away.
“Not really,” I lie.
Theo lets me wallow quietly for a long minute before finally tossing his keys in my lap. I look down then flash my gaze back up to him.
“In case you want to go pick him up off the side of the road,” he says, finishing with a tight-mouthed grin, the kind that blends an I told you so with a you know you want to.
He exits the car, leaving the driver’s door open and waiting for me. I spin in my seat and scan the parking lot for Brooklyn’s SUV, but we’re the only new car to arrive. They could have made a stop somewhere or gotten behind us.
I slip out of the back seat and walk the long way around the front of the car, glancing to the inside of Biff’s where Theo is standing behind Lily in line, his arms around her and chin over her shoulder like two people in love. My heart squeezes with envy, and I turn around to guard the entrance for several seconds, wishing for Brooklyn’s SUV to appear out of nowhere. The longer I stare with zero traffic passing, the stronger the visual in my head becomes of James walking along the dark roadway.
I pull my phone out and pull up his contact info. Swallowing my pride, I hit the call button and let it ring. When it goes right to voicemail, I do it again with the same result. Dialing a third time, I get into Theo’s car and shut the driver’s side door. I lay the phone in the passenger seat and wait for it to go to voicemail while I crank the engine and peel out of the Biff’s parking lot.
His voicemail beeps as the tires hit the main roadway.
“Hey, it’s me. Morgan. Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that. I’m just still pissed, and this thing with my dad is . . . I don’t know. Anyway, I really would like to talk. And I don’t want you walking here or home on a dark road so call me back so I can pick you up, okay? I’m heading that way now.”
I fumble for the phone and press the end call button at my side as I lean into the steering wheel to cut the window glare from the sparse streetlights and few passing cars. I scan both sides of the road while cruising along at a very slow thirty miles per hour. I earn four honks from various cars doubling my speed and probably wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, and I’m back at the school parking lot within ten minutes. James is nowhere in sight.
I shift into park at the school exit, everything at campus quiet. Baffled, I glance to my phone to see if I maybe missed his call. I pick it up and check my texts, but the only thing I have from James is his apology that I’ve basically ignored for four days.
I press the call button again and put it on speaker, setting my phone on my thigh and circling the parking lot to make sure I didn’t miss anything before doubling back on my route.
“Hey, so, it’s me again. I just drove back to the school, and I can’t find you. I’m a little worried. Call me.” I end my call and pick up speed, slowing only when I hit the roadway where I forced James out of the car. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and Vans without socks underneath. Not exactly running attire, so I can’t imagine he got very far. I don’t pass any cars on this trip through, and before I get to the Biff’s turnoff, I flip around to drive the area one more time.
He's nowhere to be found. I pull off on a side road and send him a text in all caps.
CALL ME!!!
My pulse is racing and my stomach is a twisted stress knot as I weave in and out of back-countryside streets that lead to strange off-the-grid neighborhoods. I give up this quest after about ten minutes, my panic and mania hitting a soaring high. I pick up my phone before turning back onto the main road to race back to Biff’s, this time dialing Theo.
He picks up on the second ring.
“Hey, I can’t find him. I’m kind of freaking out.” My words rush out, and the sound of laughing and families eating burgers and having a good time in the background of his line only fuels my ire. “Did you hear me? Theo, I can’t find him!”
I pat the wheel with my nervous hands as I lay on the gas and speed up to seventy.
“Hold on, I’m stepping outside,” Theo says.
I shake my head and get ready to shout my panic, but before I can, Theo speaks.
“Morgan, it’s okay. He’s here. He got a ride with Brooklyn and Cam. You can come back.”
I punch the brake, fishtailing to a stop, burnt rubber smoke stinking up the air.
“You’re fucking kidding me!” I shout.
Theo chuckles, which amps me up more.
“Theo! I couldn’t find him. I was worried. I thought he got hit by a car or something or . . . I don’t know.”
I shift the car into drive, grinding the transmission as I do, which Theo must hear because he shouts, “Hey” into the phone.
“This is your fault! You told me to find him.”
He laughs harder.
“I’m sorry, but this has nothing to do with me. You kicked him out of the car. I only guided you to what you really wanted, which is to fix whatever the hell is going on between you two. I can’t help that you had visions of a six-foot-two man getting thrown into a pillowcase and held for ransom.”
Morgan bends her wrist and drops her badge back into her purse, all the while our eyes lock, and after a few long seconds, she grins. I breathe out a laugh and start a dramatic slow clap that finally pulls a bona fide, out loud laugh from her lips.
Our moment is busted up when Cameron bursts through the door, Theo, Brooklyn and Lily tagging along behind him. I get to my feet and position myself so Morgan is forced to look at me, unless she decides to close her eyes, which at this point wouldn’t shock me.
“I am starving! Morgan had Biff’s the other day and now I want it, too,” Lily proclaims.
Morgan’s eyes flit to mine, and the same smirk she wore a few seconds ago after flashing her badge appears.
“Ugh, I hate those fucking hot pickles,” Theo exclaims.
Again, Morgan’s and my eyes meet. I lift a brow and she shrugs. Seems I’m not the only one who can’t handle that mystery spice.
“Please? I really want their fries. I’m kind of hangry!” Brooklyn grumbles.
“Aw, shit. Save us all, this girl is hangry,” Cameron jokes.
Brooklyn punches his arm, and he swiftly swings it around and catches her in an awkward bear hug that lasts longer than something should between two friends. They’re flirting, and again, Morgan and I exchange glances.
“It’s Lily’s night, so what Lily wants, Lily gets,” Morgan announces. Her point is hard to argue with, especially after the moving moment we all shared thanks to Lily.
We all make our way to the parking lot and split up, Brooklyn and Cameron climbing into Brooklyn’s SUV and Lily and Morgan joining Theo in his car. I make a rash and desperate decision and hop in the back seat next to Morgan, and she doesn’t seem to protest, which only builds my hope.
We pull out of the lot and onto the dark side road that leads to the main highway. Theo and Lily clasp hands as he drives, and I envy the little things between them, like the way his thumb strokes the edge of her palm. Looking down, I glance to Morgan’s lap where her hands are clasped together on literal lockdown, and I breathe out a sigh. It comes out louder than I expected, and she gives me a sideways glance.
“Just dreading the pickles,” I say.
She doesn’t laugh at my joke this time.
I spend the next few minutes thinking of something else to say, eventually sharing that she left her badge in my family’s truck. I mention it to hopefully draw on that night in her memory. I do it for a reaction. But all she says is, “Ah.”
Lily must see me struggling because she eventually takes over leading the conversation.
“What was your grade on that paper I read, James?” she asks. It takes me a few minutes to transition my brain to talking about my lit course and Lily’s tutoring, especially because all I can seem to think about is how far away Morgan is for being so close.
“I got a B, I think. I don’t really remember,” I say. I got a B minus, actually, but I don’t want to talk about my English homework right now. I want to talk about why Morgan and I aren’t talking.
“I’m sure you will do better on the next one. It was a hard work to compare. I think the next piece is a short comedy.” Lily turns to catch my attention and I try to piece together what she said.
“I like comedy,” I come up with. Fucking idiot.
She smirks and sits back in her seat.
“Well, that’s good, then,” she says.
We travel another two blocks in complete silence, and I would give anything for Theo to turn up the volume on his stereo. As it is, it sounds like I’m listening to some pop song through a bathroom door, most of the sound pushed to the front speakers, and the volume set to low.
“My dad had a stroke,” Morgan blurts out.
Theo punches the brake at a stop light, and we all fling forward. I brace myself with a palm on the back of his head rest, and Theo and Lily twist in their seats to glare back at Morgan. Her gaze is fixed out her window, the only thing visible a cluster of metal guard rails that seem to have been used to stop a dozen crashes in the last year.
“Are you all right?” Theo asks.
Morgan slowly turns her head and meets his concerned face.
“About my dad? Yeah, I’m fine. He’s all right. I just . . . thought I’d share,” she says.
Theo’s eyes flit to mine and I offer a quick shoulder shrug. Lily reaches back and holds out her hand, and Morgan stares at it for a few seconds before taking it in hers.
“I’m so sorry,” Lily says.
“Don’t be.” Morgan’s response is fast and it catches Lily a bit off guard. She lets go of her friend’s hand and looks to Theo who whispers, “Long story.”
The light changes and Theo returns his attention to the road. Lily turns back to the front, too.
I’m still leaning forward, my safety belt snug against my chest and hips as I continue to study Morgan’s face. It’s practically void of emotion, though I know in my gut that underneath the surface is anything but calm. She may hate her father for many reasons, but a health scare still triggers a reaction in hearts and heads. Given her history with her dad, she’s likely struggling even more.
Mustering the courage to take her wrath if that’s how she decides to react, I reach my hand over slowly until my fingers brush against her arm. She looks down as my hand wraps around her forearm, and her gaze pops up to my eyes soon after.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice hushed as I work to make this as private as possible in the back seat of our friend’s car.
She looks at me and blinks, her mouth a straight, unfeeling line.
“You didn’t stick around to talk,” she says.
My brow furrows, and she seems to give up on explaining but then suddenly turns back to face me, jerking her arm from my touch.
“I waited all night for you to show up. You brought over my ID and left, and I thought surely, he wants to talk. Why would you bring something so trivial over late at night only to run away before I got home? Unless you were sneaking out and keeping me hidden from your dad, who thinks I’m a terrible, horrible person. Or maybe you needed to get to the field to throw a hundred passes at midnight for your precious football. Or maybe you just wanted to show me off to your friends back home, brag about hooking up with Hot TikTok Girl. I know what people call me. I thought you were better than that, though. I guess I was wrong. You’re just like Toby Sullivan, only he’s bold enough to know he’s a dick. You’re still pretending not to be.”
She’s panting when she finishes her verbal assault. My pulse stopped somewhere around the part where she said precious football. None of this is going the way I want it to, and I feel like I’m running out of opportunities to get things right.
“Morgan, I’m sorry,” I say in a whisper, leaning toward her. As if Theo and Lily aren’t hearing every word of this. Hell, Morgan was so loud I’m sure somehow Brooklyn and Cameron had full audio in their car behind us.
“You’re sorry,” she says through a heartbroken laugh. “Tell me, James. Does your dad know where you’re at right now? And who you’re with?”
My eyes widen at her indictment, only a hint, but it’s enough for her to notice and tear my reaction apart.
“Why are you even here? Nobody wants you. I don’t want you. In fact, I can hardly stand you,” she says, her eyes narrowing with a special kind of hate.
My chest grows hot, my heart twisting at her fury and pain. I know she doesn’t mean any of this, but as poor as her parents are at showing affection, she’s only every known the dramatic pushes and pulls. Before she can say more, I lean forward and undo my seat belt.
“I’m getting out here. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” I say at Theo’s ear. His eyes meet mine in the review mirror a second before I open the door and step onto the roadway.
I push the door closed and stare at Morgan’s profile, her arms crossed over her chest and her legs crossed as to close herself off from me as much as possible. I’m so angry at myself for losing her like this. And I’m angry at myself for falling for her in the first place because now I know how good she is, and unrequited feels fucking terrible. And I’m mad at my father for passing judgement on her so fast, for thinking that she, of everyone in this damn school, would be the one to ruin my shot. Not the Tobys of Welles, or my own damn self, but Morgan Bentley.
Theo pulls through the intersection as the light changes and I step back a few feet to wait for Brooklyn’s SUV to catch up, letting the two cars that were between us on the roadway pass. Brooklyn flashes her hazard lights and pulls to a stop right next to me, the car behind her blaring its horn.
“What’s wrong?” she asks out her window.
I grab the handle for her back seat and hop in before we hold up traffic for too long.
“Morgan kicked me out of the car,” I say as I buckle up and get settled in my new ride.
Brooklyn laughs for a second then looks up to peer at me in her mirror.
“Dude, you and me both.”
I give her a wry smile that quickly fades, then sink into the back seat and practice everything I’m going to say at the restaurant when I see her again. She may think I gave up, but I’m just getting started. There is no way I’m letting her get away without bleeding my heart dry to prove to her how sincere I am.
Chapter 19
Morgan
Theo keeps eyeing me in the rearview mirror. I wish he’d just say whatever is on his mind. He and I aren’t so different. It’s the reason we always got along so well. It’s also the reason we sometimes loathe each other. When you’re so similar to someone, you understand their motivations and bad behaviors as much as you do the good stuff.
We pull into Biff’s parking lot and Theo backs into a spot. Lily opens her door, and I move to escape the back seat. But before my hand hits the handle, Theo holds up his palm.
“Lily, can you give us a second? Maybe order me a seven? Cherry coke?” he says.
“I’m fine. We can go in,” I protest.
“Nah, you’re not. Sit tight,” he scolds.
I’m not sure what pisses me off more, his sarcasm or that he’s parenting me.
“No, really,” I reiterate, moving again to leave the car.
He turns in his seat, his eyes leveling mine with a look that pins me in place and cuts through my layer of bullshit.
“I’ll just order for all of us. Morgan, seven for you too?” Lily knows my order.
I swallow and mutter, “Sure.”
Lily escapes the tension-filled car, and the moment her door closes, the space inside gets tighter. I flop back into my seat with a heavy sigh and match Theo’s expression, one of defeat and embarrassment and resentment.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” he says.
I laugh out once and fold my arms over my chest, glancing out the window to my right. When I look back at him, he’s still staring at me with the same pitiful, straight-lined mouth and sad eyes. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable in my own skin, and a tear pricks the corner of my eye. I wipe it away with the back of my palm.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“It’s not fine, and I get all the reasons it’s not.” Damn him for understanding.
I meet his gaze again and allow myself to break for a breath. Sniffling, I nod, keeping my chin up to guard against letting too much of the messy feelings slip in.
“The last time I saw him, he was using me to set up one of his targets for a media hit,” I say, knowing Theo won’t need the details. He probably saw the blitz that hit the tabloids and websites. Fewer people saw the retractions that came out a day or two ago. Nobody cares when people get shit wrong. They like the scintillating lies.
“Did you say some things to him?” Theo asks. I get what he’s asking—whether I left my father that day on bad terms. But I didn’t really. I left him the way we’ve always been.
I shrug.
“It was the same as any other day with Christopher Bentley. He bought some mimosas, I drank half. I mentally swore I’d never talk to him again, but who knows.”
Theo nods, probably having sworn the same thing about his mother more than once.
“You should probably see him, ya know? For yourself. You don’t have to linger around the hospital and visit. I mean, he’d probably try to get you to help him take over a hospital system.”
I bust out a loud laugh and we both smile at the truth to his joke.
“I know I should,” I admit. “Maybe I’ll go with Braden. Not sure I can take my mother’s drama over it right now. I’m sure the sky is falling.”
“Her husband did have a stroke,” Theo counters.
I wobble my head.
“And I’m sure she is telling all of the ladies in her club about it. While not visiting often,” I add.
Theo’s mouth tugs in on one side with a short laugh in understanding.
“Wanna talk about James?” His brows rise.
I meet his stare for a breath, then look away.
“Not really,” I lie.
Theo lets me wallow quietly for a long minute before finally tossing his keys in my lap. I look down then flash my gaze back up to him.
“In case you want to go pick him up off the side of the road,” he says, finishing with a tight-mouthed grin, the kind that blends an I told you so with a you know you want to.
He exits the car, leaving the driver’s door open and waiting for me. I spin in my seat and scan the parking lot for Brooklyn’s SUV, but we’re the only new car to arrive. They could have made a stop somewhere or gotten behind us.
I slip out of the back seat and walk the long way around the front of the car, glancing to the inside of Biff’s where Theo is standing behind Lily in line, his arms around her and chin over her shoulder like two people in love. My heart squeezes with envy, and I turn around to guard the entrance for several seconds, wishing for Brooklyn’s SUV to appear out of nowhere. The longer I stare with zero traffic passing, the stronger the visual in my head becomes of James walking along the dark roadway.
I pull my phone out and pull up his contact info. Swallowing my pride, I hit the call button and let it ring. When it goes right to voicemail, I do it again with the same result. Dialing a third time, I get into Theo’s car and shut the driver’s side door. I lay the phone in the passenger seat and wait for it to go to voicemail while I crank the engine and peel out of the Biff’s parking lot.
His voicemail beeps as the tires hit the main roadway.
“Hey, it’s me. Morgan. Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that. I’m just still pissed, and this thing with my dad is . . . I don’t know. Anyway, I really would like to talk. And I don’t want you walking here or home on a dark road so call me back so I can pick you up, okay? I’m heading that way now.”
I fumble for the phone and press the end call button at my side as I lean into the steering wheel to cut the window glare from the sparse streetlights and few passing cars. I scan both sides of the road while cruising along at a very slow thirty miles per hour. I earn four honks from various cars doubling my speed and probably wondering what the fuck is wrong with me, and I’m back at the school parking lot within ten minutes. James is nowhere in sight.
I shift into park at the school exit, everything at campus quiet. Baffled, I glance to my phone to see if I maybe missed his call. I pick it up and check my texts, but the only thing I have from James is his apology that I’ve basically ignored for four days.
I press the call button again and put it on speaker, setting my phone on my thigh and circling the parking lot to make sure I didn’t miss anything before doubling back on my route.
“Hey, so, it’s me again. I just drove back to the school, and I can’t find you. I’m a little worried. Call me.” I end my call and pick up speed, slowing only when I hit the roadway where I forced James out of the car. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and Vans without socks underneath. Not exactly running attire, so I can’t imagine he got very far. I don’t pass any cars on this trip through, and before I get to the Biff’s turnoff, I flip around to drive the area one more time.
He's nowhere to be found. I pull off on a side road and send him a text in all caps.
CALL ME!!!
My pulse is racing and my stomach is a twisted stress knot as I weave in and out of back-countryside streets that lead to strange off-the-grid neighborhoods. I give up this quest after about ten minutes, my panic and mania hitting a soaring high. I pick up my phone before turning back onto the main road to race back to Biff’s, this time dialing Theo.
He picks up on the second ring.
“Hey, I can’t find him. I’m kind of freaking out.” My words rush out, and the sound of laughing and families eating burgers and having a good time in the background of his line only fuels my ire. “Did you hear me? Theo, I can’t find him!”
I pat the wheel with my nervous hands as I lay on the gas and speed up to seventy.
“Hold on, I’m stepping outside,” Theo says.
I shake my head and get ready to shout my panic, but before I can, Theo speaks.
“Morgan, it’s okay. He’s here. He got a ride with Brooklyn and Cam. You can come back.”
I punch the brake, fishtailing to a stop, burnt rubber smoke stinking up the air.
“You’re fucking kidding me!” I shout.
Theo chuckles, which amps me up more.
“Theo! I couldn’t find him. I was worried. I thought he got hit by a car or something or . . . I don’t know.”
I shift the car into drive, grinding the transmission as I do, which Theo must hear because he shouts, “Hey” into the phone.
“This is your fault! You told me to find him.”
He laughs harder.
“I’m sorry, but this has nothing to do with me. You kicked him out of the car. I only guided you to what you really wanted, which is to fix whatever the hell is going on between you two. I can’t help that you had visions of a six-foot-two man getting thrown into a pillowcase and held for ransom.”
