Page 10 of A Runaway in Winter
Which I explicitly told her can’t happen.
Not now.
Swallowing back my frustration, I watch as she squints against the sunlight before meeting my gaze. “What time is it?”
“Almost noon.” She opens her mouth and then closes it again like she wants to be surprised but she’s not, her body having obviously needed the nearly twelve hours of sleep.
“I borrowed the hair tie in the bathroom,” she says, and my brows furrow but I shrug.
“I’m sure Wren won’t mind.”
“Wren?”
“She’s the only girl that’s ever been here besides my mom.”
She seems relieved by that, and I can’t help being amused.
Pen Stewart is jealous.
It’s adorable really, especially considering she almost got married yesterday.
“Do you have coffee?” she asks and I nod, the stool scraping against the wood floor as I stand.
“Sure.”
“And can I borrow your phone?” she asks as she looks around. “I want to call Oma but I’m not ready to turn mine on yet.”
I nod toward the counter. “It’s your birthday.”
“What?” Her fingers grip the device, typing in the passcode with ease and answering her own question before asking another one, “Why?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “It was just something for me at first, but now it’s a comfort, I guess.”
Her cheeks heat the prettiest shade of pink as she dials the phone and ducks her head as she walks into the open part of the living room.
Hips swaying in a pair of sweatpants I dug out of the back of my closet, I watch her openly,because I finally can.
The thought has a smile gracing my lips as I take a sip of coffee, mesmerized by her every move.
Turning, she catches me staring and mouths“what?”but I don’t have a good answer and can only give her a sheepish grin. Pen rolls her eyes and I chuckle, turning to pull a mug from the cabinet.
Hesitating, I take a breath and push the ones in the front to the side and pull a blue one from the back. The white letters on it are faded as I brush my thumb gently over them, a wave of memories accompanying the motion.
Best Friends Forever.
“Hey, what—” Pen frowns when she sees what’s in my hand, her mouth opening and closing as she glowers at it. “You said it broke.”
“Yeah.”
“But it didn’t,” she says, her voice rising as she approaches the island.
“I used it every day after you gave it to me, but when you started dating Carter…” I let the words trail off because it’s all I’ve got. I was seventeen and I’d blown my shot with my best friend. I was hurt and it was childish when I told her Jesse had shattered the mug beyond repair.
“And you lied about it?” she asks as my phone chirps, the noise drawing her attention. Instead of the screen going dark after her call, the mug had distracted her and she’d inadvertently opened one of the social media apps on my phone.
She glances quickly at it and then away, like she didn’t mean to pry, but when she does a double take, my heart drops to the floor.
“Pen, what are you—” Her finger scrolls faster than I can get around the counter, her eyes widening before filling with tears.
