Page 98 of Bring You Back

I roll my eyes at the interest in her voice.

“Yeah,” Banks says simply, trying to downplay, then his interest matches hers. “Wanna be in it?”

“I need to head out, too,” Julian says before she can respond, and I hear the sink running as I retreat to the hall, Reyna’s complaint of, “But I just got here,” before I round the door frame into the guest room.

I grab my purse and say a quick goodbye to a sleeping Grumbles who is finally comfortable here. She purrs, leaning her head into my palm, always making this after-living better for me.

“Thanks, girl.”

After my shift, I return to the house—sweaty, thanks to the shop air conditioning wigging out—to find gifts waiting for me outside the guest room door. I first think of Naomi; who else would leave me something outside my door? But as I draw in, see the gifts up close, I think of Julian.

A new box of cereal rests at my boots, right beside a new bottle of honey.

I’m overwhelmed. Too many thoughts, too many feelings are invading me at once. Over some stupid honey and cereal.

Over Julian coming back to me.

One stands out—pain. An ache I can’t place.

An ache I don’twantto place.

The feeling isn’t exactly foreign. It’s been edging its way in since I walked back in town. It’s in the fight, in the quiet of my pulse, in the stinging at the backs of my eyes. That tug toward true happiness. That calming of soul I’ve been seeking, pushing stronger through my body, but my mind’s been repelling.

I manage a look toward Julian’s door. His room is open, the inside dim. He’s not home yet. I have time to take the gifts and move them to his door. Give them back. Return to sender.

But I hesitate. This is what I want. I want him back. I just didn’t expect the drop of dread that follows the lift of calm. And I’m suddenly not sure I’m ready for this.

Nobody warned me. Nobody warned me of the aftershocks in returning home.

Nobody warned me that mending would hurt, too.

Be careful what you ask for.

I am.

I inhale a deep breath, straighten my spine, rewire my thoughts.I am, too.

This is about me and Julian. Nothing else. This is about getting him back, being us again. Nothing else has to be affected.

Grumbles agrees, her meow ringing out as she rubs against my leg from behind. She paws her way to my gifts, sniffs them. Her yellow eyes lock with my brown ones on another meow—the affirmation I need.

I chuckle. “If you say so.”

I bend to accept the honey and the cereal, and she shows me her ass as she struts off to the guest room. I follow with another chuckle, closing all three of my gifts inside.

22

A Potential Snoop

Julian

My eyes trail over the guest room door as I leave my bedroom, my head forever reminding me of my missed opportunity to search for answers the moment I dropped off a replacement bottle of honey and box of cereal when Camille wasn’t here. My gifts—an olive branch of sorts—were acknowledged with a simpleThank youtext that same night. Another text I didn’t respond to.

Never mind the fact that my stare tries to find Camille every time I step out into this hall, every time I move through this house. Since I’ve been slowly bending to myself, accepting my feelings for Camille, acknowledging that we can heal, I’ve been looking for her everywhere.

Here.

At work—like I expect her dark hair and swaying hips every time a customer walks through the door.

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