Chapter 25 Blake
BLAKE
My palms are sweating as the bell over the door of Wandering Pages chimes.
The little bookstore in Clementine Creek seems to be a hotspot here in town.
It’s attached to a coffee shop, The Poppy Seed, and even though I’m usually good at this kind of thing, I can’t for the life of me remember all the people involved or who they’re connected to.
Cal had tried to explain it to me last night after he’d gotten home from work, but I’d been too focused on rehearsing what I’d say to his sister. It’s been more than a month since we started living together and three weeks since he agreed to be temporarily mine.
Nothing about what’s happening feels temporary. I’m constantly having to remind myself that it is, especially when I’m making protein granola bars for the cross-country team, dropping lunch for him at school, and fucking him till he’s crying out my name every night.
And I only have a few weeks until the gala.
My mother has backed off on asking me if the pictures I’m posting of Cal and me are staged, and I can only assume it’s because we genuinely look happy.
I am happy.
Which is how I ended up here this morning.
“Welcome to Wandering Pages,” a pretty brunette says as the door closes behind me, relief coming in the form of a wave of air conditioning as my eyes adjust to the space.
But it’s short-lived.
“Good morning.” I smile but her eyes narrow. “Are you Hannah?”
“Depends who’s askin’,” she says with a level of sass that could rival Ellison’s.
“My name is Blake Reynolds. I’m uh,”—I tilt my head to the side and force myself to relax—“living with your brother.”
“I was wondering how long it’d take you to get down here,” she says, the statement making me question if she actually knew who I was when I walked in.
“Things are complicated.”
Complicated is an understatement. Any and all lines I might have drawn to protect my heart have been leapt over time and time again.
I just want him to feel the same. I don’t want this thing between us to end.
I want it to be real.
“Cal hasn’t shared too much.” She studies my face and then glances around the store before moving around the counter and offering me her hand. “Hannah.”
“Blake. It’s nice to meet you.” I return her shake and note how similar the color of their eyes is—that deep blue, but while hers have flecks of green, Cal’s have rings of gold around the outside.
“What brings you down here, Blake? I don’t think it’s my expansive selection of romance books.”
Shaking my head, I chuckle. “No, not today at least.” Sobering, I lower my voice. “This is… I don’t know if I even know how to ask this.”
“The simple way is usually the best.”
I hesitate because once I say the words out loud, I won’t be able to take them back. The realization that I want Cal not just until the gala but always only works if I can coexist with the ghost of his past.
It seems to be working now because this is temporary. Cal doesn’t need to hold space for me long-term.
“Do you think he’s still in love with Liam?”
Eyes widening, Hannah’s mouth drops open before slamming shut as she stares at me.
“He’s told you about Liam?”
“It was an accident initially. When I moved into the guest room, there was a box in the bottom of the closet with a picture of them on top. I wasn’t snooping but I had to ask him about it to make sure he wasn’t with anyone, you know?”
“I…do.” She bobs her head slowly. “Wow. Have you talked about Liam since then?”
“Small things here and there.”
“He barely talks to me about him anymore.” She smiles but it’s softer, more intimate. “That’s truly incredible.”
“Do you…” I start but she shakes her head.
“I don’t think he’s still in love with Liam. I think he’ll always love him, but I don’t think that love is preventing him from being in love.”
“Okay.”
“Are you in love with my brother, Blake?”
“I’m—” I lick my lips and try to hold back the heavy exhale that threatens to escape. “I’m afraid that if I let myself fall, if I commit to being all in, he’ll never be able to meet me there.”
None of this has ever felt fake to me.
“Liam’s death is a crutch, not a roadblock. If he’s using it as the latter, it’s because he’s afraid, not because he doesn’t feel the same.”
She sounds so confident.
So sure.
But how could she know that? Has Cal talked to her about me?
Could I really be that lucky? Could I be the one to bring him into the present? Can I compete with someone he’ll never have closure with?
Can I do this again knowing I’ll always have to wonder if Cal wishes Liam was still here?
It’s the last thought that has me looking away and taking in the book-lined shelves in the store.
“Great, well, that’s what I came here to ask. So, uh, tell me about the books you have here. Can you give me some recommendations?”
She eyes me like she can see right through all the doubt swirling around me, but she lets it go, turning us toward the first shelf and starting the tour.
“You know you’ll have to come by for dinner, right?”
“I mean…”
“I’ll make the arrangements; don’t you worry.” She preens then pulls a book off the shelves and hands it to me before moving down the aisle and doing it again.
And suddenly I feel like I might have a lot to worry about.
CAL
HANNAH: You told him about Liam
I stare at the message, blinking rapidly as I stare at the screen, my keys dropping into my lap as I sit in the driveway.
CAL: How do you know that?
HANNAH: He came to see me today at the bookstore
CAL: What did he say?
HANNAH: He wanted to talk about books
CAL: Bullshit
HANNAH: He said he wants to know how to support you
It’s a little more believable but something about it doesn’t fit.
Why would he say that?
HANNAH: It’s a good thing—don’t overthink it
CAL: It’s what I do best
HANNAH: Not this time
Pushing out of the car, I shove my phone into my pocket and wrestle my water bottle from the cup holder.
I want to be mad but I can’t be because I’d be curious too if I was in Blake’s shoes.
That and he went to my sister, not someone random, hoping for information.
If I’m being honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t gone to meet her before now.
But that still doesn’t erase the unease that he went behind my back to talk to my sister about Liam.
Should I have introduced them?
I push the thought away. Introducing them would have been one more complication, and I’ve already had too many of those.
What if he doesn’t stop at trying to figure out things with Liam? What if he goes into my studio? What if he knows the truth about VinCo?
Trudging up the porch stairs, I push open the door and stop myself from barking at him as I toe off my shoes, the smell of herbs and spices permeating the air.
Chicken pot pie.
The bastard.
He knows it’s one of my favorites and he’s trying to butter me up.
Also, I think it’s working.
“Hey, how was…” he starts and then stops as he searches my face. “Is everything okay?”
“You went to see my sister,” I state, the stack of books on the counter almost comical because I don’t know if he even likes any of those or if Hannah just handed them to him.
“I did.”
“And?”
“And, I just wanted to get her opinion.”
“On what?”
“You.”