Chapter 19
LANEY
" K nock, knock," Asha's voice vaguely registers, and I try to wish it away as though I never heard it at all. I'm too warm and cozy in my bed until she says, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was interrupting."
My eyes flash open when I realize why I'm so warm. There's heat at my back and an arm draped over my waist. I move to sit up, and when I do, so does Noah. I don't remember him being in my room when I lay down to rest my foot, but he's definitely here now.
"It's fine. You're not interrupting. We fell asleep," he answers with a yawn. "I drove straight through the night. I closed my eyes, and I was out."
She rolls her lips to stifle what I know is an awkward smile.
Asha doesn't have a reason not to like Noah.
In fact, until I met Trigg, I would have said Noah was exactly her type—pristine Ivy League pedigree with cufflinks that cost more than my monthly tuition, the kind of man whose hands have never known a day's hard labor.
But I see the heat in her eyes when she looks at Trigg.
She wants a man who has weathered actual storms, rough around the edges, and not afraid to put her in her place.
Noah is none of those things, and now he's in my bed .
"Did you need something? Is your father upset I've been here less than a month and already need a personal day?"
"No." She rolls her eyes as though my comment is absurd, which maybe it is, but I don't ever want him to think I'm taking advantage of my friendship with Asha to get out of my responsibilities.
"But I am here to deliver a message. He's currently in the gym with his physical therapist and would like you to come downstairs so he can assess your injury.
I know you think it's just a minor sprain, but having a professional take a look doesn't hurt. "
"Actually, that sounds great. Does he want me to come down now?" I say, tossing the blanket off.
"You can take your time and freshen up," she quips, mocking my discomfort, knowing damn well I've been avoiding Noah, and the last place I want him right now is in my bed.
"His session is over in twenty minutes, and the trainer will stick around to look at your ankle.
" She clasps her hands together and flashes a sheepish smile.
"Do you want me to help walk you down?" She finally tosses me a bone.
"I can walk her down," Noah says, stretching his arms above his head.
Her eyes widen, and she says, "Oh, I almost forgot." She ducks back into the hallway and then rolls in a cart filled with flowers. The scent of lilies quickly fills the air.
"You didn't have to get me flowers. It's incredibly thoughtful but completely unnecessary. I'll be fine by the morning, I'm sure."
"Oh, I didn't get you flowers," she says with a shit-eating grin.
"Then who did?"
"Dallas's brother," she sing-songs as she parks the cart in front of my bed.
"Dallas?" Noah repeats the name in question.
"Trigger Hale," she clarifies.
"Trigger Hale?" Noah repeats his name in question. Hale obviously ringing a bell, the other two names not so much.
"Yeah, his brother, Dallas, dropped Laney off this morning. You met him in the driveway. "
"Dallas?" he says in disbelief.
"Do you think he'll tag along on the Bourbon Trail this weekend? I was thinking?—"
I quickly get off the bed and embellish a hiss of pain as though I forgot about my ankle. I really need to talk to Asha and fill her in, but right here, right now, in front of Noah, is not the time.
Noah climbs over the bed and jumps to my side. "Are you okay? You need to be more careful."
"I'm fine. Maybe we should head down to see the physical therapist," I suggest, trying to change the subject. "Asha, are we still on for dinner tonight?"
"Dinner…" I glare at her eyes wide before she foils my plan. We don't have a dinner date tonight, but we need to talk. "Umm, yes." She nods slowly. "Does 7 p.m. still work for you?"
"Works for me," I confirm.
"Okay, well"—she casually strolls back to the door—"I'll see you tonight, then. It was good seeing you, Noah."
"Pleasure as always, Asha."
The second she's gone, I ask, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
"Why does it sound like you don't want me to be here?" he responds in a terse tone as he offers me his arm, and we start toward the hallway.
"I'm just surprised, is all," I say, attempting to hide my annoyance. His timing couldn't be worse.
Though, I am surprised. Noah and I stay in touch, and although we've been intimate on occasion, we've never put a label on our relationship.
"You're sure that surprise is authentic and has nothing to do with the fact that London Hale is here."
"I had no idea he was here. I was just as shocked to see him as you were this morning."
"I don't know, you looked pretty comfortable in his truck. "
I stop walking and release his arm. "What is that supposed to mean?"
He runs his hand through his perfectly unkempt combover. "It means I think you're ignoring my calls because he's here."
I wait for his blue eyes to connect with mine. "Are you accusing me of lying?"
"No, that would require you to respond to a text or answer the phone when I call," he quickly responds, his voice piqued with irritation.
This is how it's always been between London and Noah—forever a dick-measuring contest—and I'm sick of it.
My reasons for not answering the phone have nothing to do with London.
I wasn't answering his texts before I discovered London was my neighbor for the summer.
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be a dick, but seeing you with him this morning wasn't easy.
It brought back many old memories—ones I thought I'd never have to revisit.
I don't want to fight with you," he says, taking a step into me and grabbing my hands.
Noah's comment about revisiting memories feels off.
We've discussed that night many times, enough for me to know that his recollections aren't as painful as mine.
I saw the look he and London shared before he lied and told Sheriff Townsend that he saw London stab the man.
It's why I didn't talk to him for almost a year after everything happened.
I resented him for helping London lie. I hated the selfishness I felt he possessed to put London behind bars and not me.
Back then, his lie felt like a calculated chess move, one where he strategically played the game to capture me as though I were a prize that could be won.
But as time passed and wounds began to heal, I discovered I couldn't deny him the same grace I'd extended to London.
The anger still burns when I think of London stealing my crime.
It was a betrayal that left permanent scars.
However, given the same choice, I would have made that identical sacrifice, putting his chance at a full, beautiful life ahead of my own, because that's what love demands: the courage to place someone else's needs before your own, even when it breaks you .
It's that sentiment that thawed my heart when it came to Noah.
Who was I to judge the intentions buried in Noah's heart?
Now, history repeats itself with painful familiarity.
Some circumstances have shifted, but the core dynamic remains unchanged.
I'm trapped in that same suffocating "choose me" desperation all over again, watching the board being set for another round of a game I never wanted to play.
"Why did you come?" I risk asking again.
"It's summer. School ended…" His blue eyes drop to our hands, where his thumb skims over the backs of my knuckles. "And unlike the summers before, we don't return in the fall. I'm heading back to Willow Creek, and I?—"
"Ah, there you are," a man with a British accent says as he turns the corner. "My session with Mr. Fairfield ended early, as he had to take a call, so I figured I'd come to you in case you needed help." He looks between me and Noah. "Am I interrupting something? I can wait."
"No, you're not interrupting," Noah says, his voice oddly shaky. "I'm going to check in at the B&B in town. I need to make a few calls. Can I see you later tonight after your dinner with Asha?" I nod in agreement, and he leans in and kisses me on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight, then."
"Okay," I confirm as his blue eyes stay locked on mine. Gone is the pent-up frustration from seconds ago, and in its place is something different, something that looks almost like fear, but before I can read into it any more, he's turning away.
"Shall we?" the PT extends his hand, and I take it.
"We shall."
I never asked for this forced pause, but it's desperately needed.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you all of this from the beginning." I exhale a cleansing breath as an invisible weight is lifted from my shoulders after telling Asha about my history with London .
For the longest time, I haven't wanted to touch it—its existence is painful enough—but I trust Asha.
Unlike Sydney and I, who have known each other since we were young, Asha and I didn't get to meet until we were older, but that doesn't mean our friendship isn't deep.
We just don't have the miles on it like Sydney and I do.
I trust her, and my reasons for not confiding in her were never because of her but because of me.
"I don't blame you one bit for not telling me." She sits back in her chair, eyes wide. "But I will say I'm fucking speechless. How crazy is this?"
"I know…" I say apologetically. "I didn't mean to put all this on you. I hate to make you a keeper of such a dark secret, but?—"
"No, no, no." She straightens. "You're reading me all wrong.
Your secret is nuts, but by crazy, I mean fated.
I'm going on record now to say I had no idea Dallas's name was London, nor did I know the two of you shared this twisted past. All that being said, you realize this is destiny.
The two of you are back together for a reason. "