Page 91 of Burning Daylight
“You mean where I saved your life?” He smirks.
I swallow. “Yes, whatever, nowgo.”
In the next second, he’s gone.
SPOTTED: Preston Ascott & Juliette Calloway…Back On?!
The exes were seen together at Mayor Penngrove’s fundraiser, sparking major reunion rumors. Seems as though our sources were correct, and Preston Ascott is a man on a mission.
Love rekindled, or just nostalgia in a tux?
Either way, they look like Rosebrook Falls’s golden couple.
#JulietteReturns #PrestonAscott #CallowayWatch #HighSchoolSweethearts #RosebrookRag
22
ROMAN
This suit is itchy.
The material itself is perfect, like silk on the skin, each millimeter of fabric fitting my body like it was cut specifically for me. But I’m suffocating inside of it.
I don’t know if that’s from the clothing itself or because the thought of public speaking makes me want to die, but I’m about five minutes away from being at the podium that’s perched in front of a dozen reporters with giant tripod cameras and microphones aimed directly at me.
We’re at the foot of the gazebo in the middle of the town square.
It’s busier today than it was when I arrived in town the other night, and definitely busier than when I snuck downtown at two in the morning to tag a building.
Businesses are open, the sun is shining, and people are out for their day. Everyone seems to know about this press conference my father’s called, so beyond the reporters, there are rubber-necking citizens loitering around and filling out the rest of the grassy knolls.
There’s a street busker a few yards away, sitting underneath a tree in the shade and strumming a love song on their guitar, and another sitting on a bench with a small flock of pigeons nibbling pieces of bread in front of them, but everyone else keeps stealing glances our way, like they’re waiting for the real show to start.
I’ve always considered Rosebrook Falls to be a small town, but seeing it come alive with its residents gives me a new perspective.
My father’s press secretary is at the microphone, answering questions from nosy reporters.
My dad is standing next to me, off to the right side, and he pats me on the shoulder. I tear my eyes away from the podium and glance at him. A giant grin spreads across his face like he’s excited I’m here. Like he’sproudto have me next to him.
It makes me feel…I don’t know, weird.
I don’t trust it.
And I hate that there’s a part of me that revels in that smile from him, as if the kid inside me is bursting to lap up the approval like water.
Frederick’s next to my father, stoic and silent.
The press secretary at the podium finishes, and the buzz in the audience draws my attention to the open grassy area surrounding the gazebo, my eyes searching for the girl I know I should force from my mind but for some reason can’t.
Juliette.
I’ve thought of almost nothing else but her since coming here, and she’s in every single inch of this town.
But she’s not here.Why would she be?
My father nudges my shoulder. “You ready for this, son?”
The question makes my mouth go dry. Even being here in the first place feels like betraying my past, but a piece of me aches when he calls meson, like an old injury throbbing from the rain.
