Page 242 of Small Town Firsts
So much to deal with, so much to plan.
So much to discuss with Seth.
I stood up and rinsed with the little handle showerhead. It felt as if I was rinsing away the fear and excuses at the same time. I liked to think it was easier to hide behind them, but that wasn’t really the truth either.
I tucked a towel around me and drained the tub, rinsing out the last of the bath bomb as I drip-dried enough to tug on my clothes. My worn jeans that I couldn’t part with, the old lacrosse shirt I’d stolen from Seth.
Always Seth.
After grabbing my phone, I wandered back out to the main living space and my gaze drifted around the rustic, glass-walled room. We’d sprawled on the faded green rug on the first day of classes we skipped together junior year, passing back and forth a bottle of some foul-tasting stuff Seth stole from his dad’s liquor cabinet. He’d stopped short of getting drunk, but I hadn’t. I’d savored the freedom in laughing at nothing and lying on my back on the sun-warmed floor, staring up through the skylight at a sky full of marshmallow clouds. I was the girl with too many responsibilities, and he’d always been my ticket to fun and possibilities.
He still was.
I sat on the couch and dumped my phone in my bag, then reached for my iPad. I flipped the cover closed and tucked the tablet into my bag, setting it on the wicker chair beside me.
I couldn’t even pretend to care about the class list on my iPad or the glossy school brochures anymore. Not right now, with somuch else going on. As much as I wanted to make my mother proud, and to spread my wings, I had to admit the truth. Online classes might be something I investigated more someday, but right now, I was firmly invested in my life just as it was. Part of me always wanted to see what was out there, but my current reality was looking better and better.
If I didn’t chicken out before I went for what I truly wanted.
Thethwackof the screen door dragged me out of my musings. No one knew I was here. I reached for my purse and the can of pepper spray I kept in the zipper pocket. Sage insisted I carry it at all times, even when I had nothing on me but my wallet.
“Alison?”
I sagged back against the chair, still clutching the keys I’d pulled out and my safety spray. Not a burglar. A Hamilton. “Back here. What are you doing here, Oliver?”
He stepped into the sunroom, his back ramrod straight. His impeccable three-piece suit didn’t dare look wilted. My T-shirt was already sticking to me. The little house by the water was usually cool, but there wasn’t a single cool corner of Crescent Cove right now. Humidity and heat sat over the town like a shroud.
Not that you’d know it from Oliver.
“Finally. Do you have any idea how many people are looking for you?”
“I told Sage I needed a few days.” I lifted my chin. “I wasn’t feeling so hot.”
“The whole town is buzzing about this stupid reunion and here you are, tucked away.”
All the sureness I’d been feeling filtered right out of me. The reunion was tonight. Ignorance really was bliss. Why did he have to remind me?
He tilted his head. “May I?”
I shrugged. “It’s your place.” I sighed. “Actually, no. How the heck did you know I’d be here?”
He paused mid-step over the threshold. “Because I come here to think too.”
I frowned. “You’re the one who’s been staying here?”
His eyebrow rose. “Just how often do you come here, Alison?”
“Not often. It’s been months, actually, before the past few days. I didn’t think anyone came here, but the sheets in the bedroom were far too fresh.”
Oliver let out a frustrated sigh and tugged at his tie. “Yes, well sometimes one needs the simple and the quiet to think. May I come in?”
He owned the place, and he was askingmefor permission. Unusually sweet for Oliver, but I needed some kindness right now. Desperately.
“Depends. Are you friend or foe?”
“I hope friend.”
I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen Oliver show an emotion other than disdain or disinterest or mild amusement, typically at someone else’s expense. Especially toward me. “Since when?”
