Page 153 of Reconciling With the Rival

“Ten.”

He only nods at me. “Oh.”

The ride to our floor is quiet, neither of us wanting to ask the questions on our minds. I’m sure he wants to ask me about Amelia, and I desperately want to ask him what the hell he’s doing here, but neither of us says a word.

If anything, I need to talk to Oliver and Paige first. It’s their wedding, and I would never tell them who to invite, but something else is going on here. This can’t be a coincidence.

When we get off, Henry turns the opposite direction, and I practically book it back to the room, swinging the door open before I shove the champagne in the ice and burst into the bedroom.

They must notice something off on my face, because Hads comes over to me, but the only person I can look at is Amelia.

“Did something happen?” Hads asks me.

“Please tell me someone isn't dead again,” Paige says. “I’d hate for this to be a theme.”

My eyes are still on Ames. “Ella, what’s wrong?” she asks me, and in a minute, I might be asking her the same thing.

“I-I just ran into someone in the lobby.”

“Did the boys finally get here?” Hads asks me.

I nod. “Yes, but that’s not who I’m talking about.”

“Did you see an author or something? Oh my gosh, is Olivia Hart here? Or maybe it’s that one hockey author we love?” Paige squeals as she continues to name our favorite authors.

“Why would any of them be in Virginia Beach, P?” Hads questions.

“I don't know! A girl can dream.” She smiles.

“It was Henry.”

All voices mute as soon as I say that, and I swear, I see Amelia’s face go through eight different emotions before landing on one we’ve all seen before—fear.

“What?” she whispers. “H-Henry is here? Like, h-here, in this hotel?”

“Yes,” I tell her, and before anyone can say anything else, she gets up. Just when I think she’s going to throw up or something, she locks herself in the bathroom.

The three of us stay where we are, frozen in the memory of what happened when they fell apart that day at the airport, the day she ran away and we had no idea what was to come.

But then, we go over to the door. Paige leans against it while Hads and I stand next to her on either side.

“Ames? Are you okay?” Paige asks her.

“Did you know he was going to be here?” I ask her.

Her face turns red before she shakes her head. “No, I didn't.”

“This has Oliver written all over it,” Hads says. “He’s always been a sneaky motherfucker, even as a kid.”

“Amelia, you never did tell us whatactually happened with you two,” Paige says through the door.

“Now is as good of a time as any if you have to see him all week,” I coax, trying to get her to talk to us instead of running away. “We’re here for you.”

We can all hear her pacing around the bathroom, but I don’t think she’s crying. This feels more like a freak out than anything else.

“Do you want me to get the prosecco?” Paige asks, and a few seconds later, the door swings back open.

Her face is red, her hair a mess, as if her hands were running through it. She’s not breathing normally either.

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