“You didn’t finish your Moo Shu. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
I could feel Rudy’s concern wash over me and did my best to school my features into something neutral. It had been hours, after all. You’d think I could have put this morning behind me.
“I’m just not hungry,” I said. “Big lunch.”
“Lies. You walked out with half a salad, and you’re too much of a workaholic to leave and get something.”
“I ordered delivery.”
He stared at me with narrowed eyes.
I loved Rudy for his attentiveness. And I hated Rudy for his attentiveness.
“You look sallow.”
“Sallow?” I repeated. “Is that even a thing?”
“Fine. Haunted. Like you’ve seen a ghost or some shit. You look disturbed.” He grabbed the remote and paused our movie. “You’re not even paying attention to Charlize breaking bad in her Mini Cooper. Spill.”
His tone was firm like an order. And because it was Rudy, I gave in.
“I had a new patient today,” I said.
“And? Sorry, but that’s not exactly earth-shattering news.”
“It was someone I knew.”
Rudy turned so that he was fully facing me on the couch, his eyes wide. “Dear God, please tell me Travis didn’t hurt himself just so he could come to you for rehabilitation.”
“No, although if he keeps blowing up my phone, I might injure him.”
“Girlfriend, there’s a feature called block. You should try it.”
“I did, I did. Today’s call was the last one.” I waved a hand dismissively. For the first time in weeks, Travis was not the problem.
“Okay. So, this new patient . . . Is it someone terrible? Are you rehabilitating Stephanie Buchanan’s butt job gone wrong?”
“What? Gross.” I wrinkled my nose.
Stephanie Buchanan was the town’s gossip and, back in my mother’s day, had won Miss Midnight five years in a row. Nowadays, she could be found slinking out of the plastic surgeon’s office and maintaining that her youthful look was “completely natural” and the result of good genes.
“It’s nothing like that. It’s . . . someone I know. Or used to. His name’s Easton, and we—”
“Easton Raines? The hunky snowboarder?” Rudy’s eyes bulged.
“How do you even know who he is?”
“Your mom might have shown me his Facebook profile once.”
“My mom was Facebook friends with East?”
“Well, at first.” He hesitated. “I might have asked her to friend him and then show me a photo.”
I groaned. “You taught my mom how to Facebook stalk someone?”
“What did you expect? You refused to tell me his name, but you still have his letterman jacket. And whenever you mention your high school boyfriend, your face does this weird thing. I needed to know what I was dealing with.”
“My face does not do a weird thing.”
“It does too, although I can’t blame you. Boy is fine. Ooh, introduce me.”
“No.”
“Fine. Bring me a pair of his underwear.”
“What? No.”
“Fine. Find out what cologne he wears.”
“I’m not talking about this anymore.”
I started to get up, but Rudy grabbed my arm, pulling me back down. “Okay, okay. I’ll shut up. What happened with Easton the Beaston?”
My brows lifted, and Rudy grinned then mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.
“First, never call him that again. Second, he doesn’t wear cologne. And third,” Rudy’s face was turning red from holding in his responses, so I finished quickly, “I think I might still have a thing for him.”
Rudy’s lips fell apart, and he sucked in air, obviously on a breath held that entire time.
“You didn’t have to hold your breath.”
“Yes, I did,” he said. “Trust me.”
After a few more gulps of air, he said, “I can’t believe he let you go. What the hell was that idiot thinking?”
A soft spot pinged in my heart. “Thanks,” I said. “But it wasn’t really about me.” I sighed. “I mean, even then, I could see East had some demons to battle. Not that he told me what they were. He was closed off. Secretive. But I knew there were things he was running from that had nothing to do with me.”
Things like him being a werewolf—which I felt mildly bad for not telling Rudy now, but I’d made a promise once. And I intended to keep it.
Rudy propped his chin in his hand, his eyes glazed. “How romantic.”
I glared. “Or heartbreaking. Depending.”
He straightened. “Right. That’s what I meant.”
“Anyway, he probably has no idea how hard I’d fallen for him because then we graduated, and he just vanished. No calls. No letters. No decency to end things officially.”
“Seriously? He ghosted you?”
I sighed, hating how I could still feel the sting of his rejection even after all these years. “The night of graduation, he was supposed to pick me up so we could go to our friend’s party. But he never showed. When I called, it went straight to voice mail. A couple of days later, the phone number was disconnected altogether. When I checked his social media, he’d moved out of state. I got the message loud and clear.”
“Your mom told me he had some bigshot career as a snowboard instructor for a fancy resort in Breckenridge,” Rudy said.
“Apparently, the resort was sponsoring him to compete, too.”
Rudy was silent for a minute. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was: that East’s life back in Colorado sounded a hell of a lot better than the life he’d have here. I couldn’t blame him for leaving. And yet, I couldn’t seem to stop my heart from aching over it either. He’d taken the coward’s way out. No amount of apologies or excuses could excuse that—not that he’d offered me either one.
“Do you think he’s going to stay in town long?” Rudy asked.
“Probably not. Up until now, he’s had zero trips home.”
“Doesn’t his family still live here?”
“Parents. No siblings. Why?”
“And he didn’t come back to visit them even once?”
I shrugged. “Not that I heard.”
“Wow. Yeah, sounds like there are definitely issues.”
I didn’t tell him what I’d figured out about East’s dad over the years. It wasn’t my secret to tell.
He glanced at my nearly untouched takeout. “And something tells me
