Page 58 of Dove
“Do you think maybe you miss home?” I suggested lightly. “Your friends and family?”
I took that moment to really look at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed from emotion and lined with exhaustion. Faint shadows lingered beneath them, standing out against her olive skin, like this had been weighing on her for some time.
“I know you built a life in LA.” A fact I was immensely happy and proud of her for, even if had been one far from me. “But that doesn’t take away everything you left behind here, even if you gained it there.”
Her hand twitched in mine, a light, grateful squeeze, before she slipped it out of my hold to sit up and brush the hair back from her face. I knew I was toeing the line for Reverie, who didn’t find it easy to lay herself bare—even to me. That girl kept her feelings under tighter security than the Declaration of Independence.
“How’d you get to be so wise, Dove?”
Shrugging one shoulder casually, I joked, “Could be from all the trauma, but who knows?” I took a sip of my coffee to hide my wry smile.
Laughter escaped her. “God, I missed you.”
Emotion clogged my throat, and I choked out, “I missed you too, Rev.”
More than she’ll ever know.
“Don’t you dare.” She sniffed, pointing a finger at me in warning. “No crying!”
“Who’s crying?” I blinked the moisture from my eyes. “I’m not!”
“Let’s talk about something decidedly less upsetting.” She whipped her head from side to side, flipping her hair over her shoulders, and grabbed for her forgotten coffee, curling her fingers around the mug and tugging it back to her. “Like you and Josh.”
Wow, real subtle, Rev. I stifled a groan. Now it was my turn to bang my head on the tabletop, but I resisted the urge.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I insisted.
“Uh,” she drawled, her eyes widening skeptically. “That little display as I drove in says otherwise.”
Shit.
“He was just getting a bug out of my hair,” I claimed with a dismissive handwave, taking a sip of coffee that instantly churned in my stomach.
“Is that what they’re calling it ’round these parts nowadays?” she asked, exaggerating the slight twang in her voice.
“Oh, shut up,” I snapped, knowing I was backed into a corner. But the bite wasn’t there— not when I was more focused on hiding my face, so she couldn’t read it like the expert she was.
“Ohhh, defensive!”Her eyes sparkled knowingly. Shit, maybetooknowingly. “I totally called it the moment you said he was back. Deets, girl,deets.”
“There are nodeets,” I denied quickly, although I trusted Reverie. She was theonlyperson who knew about my true feelings for Josh, and she had never once made me feel like a freak for them. She’d had my back since I moved to this town, so different from the city I was used to. I’d been drawn to the girl who wasn’t “country” enough for Haven, building camaraderie in our outsider-ness, even if I’d somehow managed to fit in better than her over the years.
There were, in fact,deets.And honestly? Iwantedto talk to her about it. I neededadvice
“We… He’s…” My mouth opened and closed like a fish.Ugh.
Words failed me when it came to describing what had been going on since our parents’ funeral.
She raised her coffee in a toast, winking at me with a victorious smirk on her face. “Didn’t I tell you he’d be that good?”
I glanced out the window, checking to make sure Josh was far, far away and nowhere near enough to overhear this conversation. He was still out by the fence, and my heart gave a guilty pang.
“We haven’t done…that.But there’s…” I wavered, trying to find the right word for whatever was happening between us. “Something,” I admitted reluctantly.
She squealed, startling me. I shushed her quickly.
Reverie waved my caution off. “He’s too far away to hear.”
“That squeal was at dog-whistle decibels, Rev.”
