Page 56 of Losing Forever
Thank fuck, he’s gone.
I open the bathroom door and spring out. Cold air conditioning meets my skin. Shit, it was hot in there.
Beyond the glass door to the pool deck, I spy blue skies. The patio pavers are a darker shade, soaked from the rain. My gaze falls to the bench where I left my bathing suit. It’s gone.
What the hell? My phone was in the pocket.
I glance at the towel hooks on the other side of the door. My swim trunks hang on one next to Braylee’s cover-up and bikini. Warmth fills my chest.
I get my phone and find two texts from Noah. The first is another reply to my earlier text asking if he’s coming home tonight.
Hey. Haven’t heard back from you. Everything okay? I’m stopping by the house to get an overnight bag. Siani has an early study group so we’re going to stay at her place. Let me know if you need anything.
The second text is from when he was here.
At the house. Where are you?
I send him a quick reply telling him I went for a run, but everything is cool, and I’ll see him tomorrow.
With the coast clear, I tighten the towel at my waist and take the stairwell to the second floor. Once I'm on the main level, I listen for Braylee, hearing only silence.
“Bray?” I call out.
No response.
Two at a time, I take the stairs up to the third floor.
Her soft voice reaches my ears.
Noah left, so either she’s talking to herself or she’s on the phone. What if she’s on a video call? I can’t pop into her room in a towel, but I’m dying to know how things went with Noah.
In a hurry, I head to my room to change, tugging on jeans and a T-shirt. I stumble into the hallway and listen outside Braylee's closed bedroom door. No more talking.
I rap twice. “Braylee? Can I come in?” I think I hear her sniffle.
She clears her throat. “It's open.”
I walk into her room and find her sitting at the end of the bed, her phone in one hand and a crumpled tissue in the other. She’s slumped, with her head forward. Her mahogany hair covers her face.
“What's wrong?” I rush over and kneel in front of her. “Does Noah know about us?”
She shakes her head and wipes her nose with the tissue. “He-he doesn't know.”
“Then what is it?” I brush her hair back and tuck it behind her ear.
“My house was broken into.”
I jump to my feet, ready to fight. “This house?”Where’s my bat?
“No.” She lifts her head. “My family's house in Seattle.”
I let out a big exhale and relax my tense muscles. “Your family still has a house?” I thought they all died.
She nods, her gaze on a wicker chair by the window. A manila folder rests on the white cushion. “I planned to sell it. I just never got around to it.”
I stroll over to the chair and pick up the folder. “May I?”
Again, she nods and scoots back on the bed enough to draw her feet up and sit crisscross.
