Page 113 of Trip Me Up

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SAM

“Ooh, Sam. These are fun.”

Marlee stood at my dresser, holding the black lace panties I’d last worn in Niall’s hayloft. When we’d…

“Toss them.” I pointed at the garbage bag in the middle of my bedroom. “And stay out of my underwear drawer.”

She dropped them into the moving box she was filling and scooped the remaining contents—mostly cotton panties with the elastic escaping at the leg holes—into the garbage bag. “I’m out of it. We’re almost done, right? Tyler and Andrew should be here in about an hour to pick up your stuff.”

“All that’s left is the bathroom and this.” I yanked open my nightstand drawer. When I saw what was inside, I flopped onto the bare mattress.

“What is it?” Marlee flitted to my side. “Oh.”

I’d never gotten beyond the first few chapters in the hardcover books, but I listened to them almost every night. And sometimes—I wasn’t proud of it, okay?—I opened the books to the title pages with his signature. He pressed hard with his pen, and on the copy ofTreachery of the Wood Elves,I imagined I could feel the groove where the nib had creased the paper.

Marlee sank onto the mattress next to me. “You still love him.”

“No, I—” She’d never let me hear the end of it. “I don’t.”

“Sam.” She rubbed a circle on my back. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Bilbo Baggins trotted out from his hiding place under my desk, hopped up onto the bed, and snuggled against my hip.

I rubbed at my eye. “It’s dusty in here.”

“Sam. Have you reached out? Asked him to forgive you?”

I sniffed and blanked my expression. “Of course I did.”

“And?”

“And nothing. He doesn’t want to hear from me ever again.”

She hugged me and rested her chin on my shoulder. “When I fucked things up with Tyler—remember that? When he went to Texas and got a new job? I called. I texted. I even sang a song on his voice mail. I was completely ridiculous. But it worked in the end. You should try again.”

I thought back to last December when Tyler had come back from Texas. “He forgave you in person at the holiday party.”

“Yeah. I guess my song didn’t work all that well. Maybe don’t try that. What worked was looking him in the eye and asking him to forgive me.” She squeezed my shoulders. “Think about it. I’m going to pack up the bathroom while you finish up here, okay?”

“Okay.” How could I ask Niall to forgive me in person? According to Jackson’s lawyers, I couldn’t leave the state.

I knew one person who’d know if he was coming to California. And I needed her forgiveness, too.

I pulled my phone out of my cargo pants pocket and scrolled through the missed calls until I found Qiana’s name. I pressed Call.

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