Page 17 of Every Heartbeat After

I hold a clammy palm to my flushed cheek, leeching some of its warmth. “Really good.”

“Yeah, your tone screams enjoyment.” Meanwhile hers drips with sarcasm.

“Sorry, it’s just…been a day.” I normally tell Alicia everything, but for some reason this feels too fragile. I don’t know howIfeel about it yet, so I’m not ready to hear her thoughts on the matter. I swallow a deep breath and tuck away the doubt. The insecurities. The desire still electrifying my skin. Then I slip into the version of me everyone else gets, even if I can’t give it to myself. When I open my mouth again, my voice jumps an octave. “We’ve had the best time. It feels like I’ve always known him. And the whole town is so friendly.”So friendly they offer good-night kisses after giving you a ride home.

“I’m happy for you, Tess.” Alicia, savant that she is, is not fooled. “Are we going to just skip over how bedraggled you sounded when you picked up the phone?”

Shit.“Oh, it’s nothing.” I gnaw on my bottom lip, searching the swirls and loops of the yellowing ceiling for an excuse that’s believable. “There’s this guy, a friend of my uncle’s, who’s decided I’m the exciting catch of the day. Had a hard time taking no for an answer.” I chuckle, but it’s hollow. Guilt rings in my ears at throwing Kit under the bus, even if Alicia will never meet him. He deserves better, and I know it.

There’s no time to reel in the words, though, because Alicia is already howling. “Why am I not surprised? Tess Monroe strikes again, bringing men and women to their knees in every city from sea to shining sea.”

“Ha ha,” I say flatly. Time for a change in subject. “Why are you up so late anyway?”

“Destin’s on rotation tonight at the hospital. Figured I’d check on my best friend instead of binge watchingThe Officefor the thousandth time.”

“I’m honored, truly.”

“As you should be.” She chuckles softly. “When do you land tomorrow?”

That reminds me, I need to check in for my flight. I put Alicia on speakerphone and toggle screens to pull up my airline app. “Not till late. I imagine I’ll be back to Fly Hollow by nine or ten, depending on delays.”

She clicks her tongue. “So no catch-up drinks, then.”

“Maybe later this week?”

“That would be nice.” There’s a muffled scraping, like she’s shifting her phone from one ear to the other. “Actually Delilah Ridgefield moved back to town recently. Would you wanna do a girls’ brunch with her? I think she could really use it.”

The name rings a distant bell. I rack my brain, finally pulling up an image of a girl who was in Alicia’s grade, with light brown hair and a father who taught music at our school. Said father had an affair with another teacher a year or so after I graduated, which became the town’s gossip topic of choice for months on end. I’m ashamed to say that, at the time, I was just grateful to share the tragedy spotlight for once.

No wonder she stayed away till now.

“Sure, I’d like that,” I say finally.

“Great!”

I glance at the glowing red numbers on the clock beside the bed. It’s close to midnight, and I’m supposed to meet Gary bright and early at his place. “I’ve got to go, Alicia. I’m already exhaustedforme tomorrow.”

She chuckles. “Sounds good. I’ll text you once I figure out a day that works with my schedule. I’m almost done packing up the classroom for renovations, so should be available later this week. Love you big, you charming monster. Try not to steal the hearts of any more unsuspecting people before coming home, yeah?”

My throat constricts, but I force my words out in what I hope doesn’t sound like the nervous squeak it is. “Yeah. See you soon. Love you.”

“Good night.” She makes a kissing sound into the phone, which I return, and then the line is dead. It’s just me, the leaky faucet dripping in the bathroom, and my thoughts, which circle like vultures.

I have no faith I’ll be getting any sleep tonight.

* * *

Gary arranged for an impressive array of treats from the coffee shop downstairs, which he somehow convinced the owner, Rose, to hand deliver for him before my arrival. They sit alongside two to-go coffees adorned with the 8th & Main logo on his time-worn dining table in the small living space of his apartment.

I peer out one of three tall windows on the far end of the room, which overlook Main Street from a prime vantage point above Nomads. The perfect spot for some young student from the nearby college town, wanting nightlife at their fingertips, but all I can think of is how annoying it must be on Friday and Saturday nights when the bar stays open late and music vibrates the floors.

“Oh my God.” I turn to Gary, whose gaze sparks with amusement at my sudden outburst. “Am I getting old? All I can think about is how loud Nomads must get on the weekends, and how hard that would make it to sleep.”

He sucks on his teeth, leans forward on both elbows, and meets my gaze resolutely. “Not old, but perhaps a fuddy-duddy.”

I snort, disturbing the surface of my latte. “God, you sound like my parents.”

“An honor.” He dips his chin, his snowy beard nearly submerging in his cup.

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