Page 55 of When You Were Mine

“I’m never moving back here. And who knows if we’d even still get along. We were kids.”

“Darby. Talk to him.”

Her gaze wandered, unseeing, across the empty lobby, and then, she gave a nod. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“Where is everyone?” It was a two-hour drive into the city. He wanted to be sure he sat next to Elzy. His blood went hot just thinking about being near her.

She pulled her phone out of her clutch. “Let me check the group chat.”

One of the things he missed most—that he’d never had with anyone else—was the way the world disappeared when he was with Elzy. When their bodies were pressed together, when her scent filled his senses, and he was wholly consumed by her. Bythem. That was peace. That was when he felt his best self. Complete.

Happy.

And without it, he was just wandering the earth.

It sounded dramatic, but it was true. He didn’t feel connected to anything, didn’t have a passion for anything.

But Elzy.

“They left.” Darby sounded surprised.

“What do you mean? They said we’re leaving at noon.”

“Jessica wanted to hit some shops in town, so they went early.”

“And they didn’t tell us?” Of course not.

She wants to leave me behind.

She didn’t know what it did to him, how it drove him back to the worst time in his life. That first time he’d gone home, so sure he’d get to see her, talk to her,explain. But she’d hidden from him. It was like racing through a maze that had no exit. His frustration had blown up into a wild, panicked desperation as he looked for her everywhere but never once found her.

Well, fuck that.She’s not putting me through that shit again.

“How’re we going to get there?” he asked.

“How are you with driving a stick?”

“I’m a farm boy. I can drive anything. Let’s go.”

You want to play, Elz?

Game on.

She was not going to make this easy.

Trevor sat across from Elzy at a small table in the corner of a busy kitchen. She seemed determined to treat him like a stranger.

Fine. But her indifference didn’t match the fire in her eyes when they’d talked privately.

So, which is it, Elz? Is the love dead and gone, or is there hope for us?

A server approached the table with a white porcelain pitcher, leaning over Trevor to pour soup into a bowl. “This is a cold tomato consommé.”

Elzy’s hand shot out to stop him. “No. No tomato for him.” She went right back to her conversation with the chef as though she hadn’t just defended him from the dreaded fruit like she would’ve done when they were teenagers.

And that was his answer. Her instinct to protect him was all the confirmation he needed. The connection was still there. It wasn’t one-sided. All he had to do was calm down. Stop trying so hard. Give her the time and space to let down her guard.

“Are you allergic?” Darby asked.

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