Page 17 of Most Likely to Fear Love

CASSIDY

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” Hannah leaned against the back of my couch, scrolling through her phone.

“No, Han, you’ll just get in my way.”

I darted around the living room, my eyes scanning every surface for my keys. The sound of the ticking clock seemed to grow louder, each tick a reminder that we were running late. Again. The girls would already be at the cinema, we’d get there just as the opening credits started to roll at this rate. I fuckinghatedbeing late.

Sometimes you need to give yourself permission to not be on your A-game. Life doesn’t always go as planned and the world won’t come crashing down because of a little hiccup.

Right. Okay. Deep breath. Maybe another one, for good measure.

“Yeah, okay, maybe you can help me look.”

Hannah shoved her phone in her back pocket and straightened. “Okay, okay. Let’s think this through. Where was the last place you had them?”

I stopped my frantic search and took Hannah’s advice. “Well, I definitely had them when I got home from Pilates. I swear they have legs.”

“What was the first thing you did when you got in?”

“What I always do. Put my purse on the hall stand and my keys in the bowl. Then I went for a shower.”

“But they aren’t in the bowl.”

“No, Han. They aren’t in the bowl.”

“What if, and work with me here, youdidn’tput them in the bowl, like youalwaysdo? Where would you have put them?”

I chewed my lower lip. “Probably in my room.”

Hannah nodded, her curly hair bouncing slightly as she moved. “Let’s start there then.”

I followed Hannah down the hallway to my bedroom. The moment we stepped inside, a glint caught my eye.

“Aha!” I snatched the keys from my nightstand, holding them up triumphantly. “Found ‘em!”

Hannah’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “On your nightstand? That’s not like you, Cass. Usually, everything’s in its proper place.”

I shrugged, feeling a mix of relief and defensiveness. “I don’t always have to be on my A game, you know.”

Hannah’s eyebrows shot up as she followed me out of the room. “Oh, this is new.”

It wasn’t until we were in the car and out on the main road that Hannah spoke again. “I want to know more about this.”

“About what?”

“About your A game. All our lives, you’ve been the perfect one. The good one, the never messes up one. Now, suddenly, you’re realizing you don’t always have to be that way, don’t have to always be on your A game. What gives?”

I knew the minute I told her it was because of my conversation with Harle a few days ago, she’d go off.

Pretending to concentrate on merging into the traffic heading to New Bern, I gave myself some thinking moments.

The silence in the car felt heavy, and I knew Hannah was still waiting for an answer. Short of telling her I’d had a personality transplant, the truth seemed like the only option.

“It was Harle.”

“I fucking knew it! I’m gonna kiss that man the next time I see him.”

Okay, no need for the little jealous flare. She’s only joking.

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