“You ran into a door,” she says, deadpanned. Her raised eyebrow betrays her true thoughts on that explanation, but I race to change the subject before she can say as much out loud.
“I heard about Faith. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah.” She frowns, real sadness shaping her features. “It feels kind of weird to be pushing noodles, all things considered.”
This time of day, foot traffic is light, the lunch rush over. Judging from her outfit—a black blouse and skirt—she must have been manning the hostess station of her parents’ restaurant and saw me approach.
“So, where the hell have you been, Dewitt?” she demands, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ve tried calling you. Don’t tell me your charger is still ‘lost.’”
“Try my phone, actually,” I say. It isn’t a complete lie. To prove it, I withdraw the one Rafe gave me. “I have a new one.”
“Nice,” Mara says with genuine admiration. She snatches it and programs her number in before handing it back. “I wanted one of those, but they’re fucking expensive. Anyway, where have you been?”
“I decided to go with my brother to the beach for a few days.” God, it’s almost terrifying how easily the lies come. Because it’s all you’re good at, Hannah, a part of me hisses. Just like Branden says. You’re a liar.
“Oh, well… Now that you’re back, we should totally hang out. I know it’s kind of morbid, but Faith’s memorial service is tonight—not like a funeral or anything. You don’t have to dress up. Rafe said he’d go with me, but—”
“I’ll go with you.”
She smiles. “Thank God. At least I’ll have a wingman for if I fall flat on my face again. Like damn, I know it’s utterly trashy to try to pick up a guy at a memorial, but I just don’t get this one. I mean, from what I hear, he’s fucked half the girls in this town. But I practically flash my titties at him and…” She trails off, blushing. “Never mind. But damn, it’s like some kind of personal conquest now. I will fuck that asshole or die trying. It’s the principle of the matter.”
“You’re too good for him, Mara,” I blurt out. “Besides, you could have any guy you want.”
“But I want that guy,” she declares, stubbornly jutting her chin. Her teeth seize her lower lip as she groans. “And he is so sexy. And nice—I heard from my parents that he offered to pay for Faith’s funeral expenses as well as the reward for any information on her case. Five thousand dollars.”
“He did?” I don’t know why the thought surprises me.
Maybe because it brings one good point into question—what was the nature of his relationship with Faith in the first place?
“He did,” Mara insists with a nod. “Let me tell my folks I’m on break, and then we can catch up on all of the gossip. You’ve missed a lot, girl. And I want to hear all about this ‘vacation’ that left you with even more hickies on your neck than before.”
I feel my cheeks catch fire as I brush my hand along my throat. Even with the high neckline of my sweater, the marks are obvious.
“I hope the same culprit isn’t responsible for the ‘door’ you ran into,” she adds pointedly. “I know you don’t have a lot of experience with guys, Han, but trust me. Anyone who puts their hands on you isn’t worth the dick.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, brushing my hair forward to cover most of the bruising. “But I will take you up on that lunch offer.”
“Great!” She skips off, entering the Chans’ restaurant, and I instinctively start to follow her as the back of my neck heats with awareness.
A glance over my shoulder reveals no one in sight—but I feel it. He’s here, watching me…
“You ready?” Mara asks, appearing by my side, a black leather purse in hand. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
I follow her, but the uneasy dread in my gut only intensifies, lasting through our entire walk to a nearby café.
And I swear that this time, the figure I catch as I glance behind me isn’t a figment of my imagination.
Chapter Ten
“So, who are you fucking, and for how long?” Mara questions from over the rim of her latte. Winking, she smacks her glossy lips together and leans over her pink place setting. “Tell me everything.”
We’re seated at a table near the front windows, which provide a good view of the main street—and anyone who might happen to walk by. I can’t stop my gaze from darting to it every few seconds just to scan the foot traffic. So far, I’ve only noticed a few workers dressed in business attire or the average tourist. No Branden. Yet.
“Hey!” Mara reaches over the table to tap my shoulder, and I reluctantly turn my attention back to her. “Spill, bitch,” she demands. “I’ve told you about all the assholes I’ve fucked. Your turn.”
“He’s…” I swallow hard as the truth sticks to the back of my throat. Coming clean now would be the smart thing to do. The right thing. For whatever reason, I can’t make myself form the words. “No one.”
Mara raises an eyebrow. “No one. Damn, I didn’t know the ‘air’ was into rough sex. I guess I’ve been masturbating all wrong—”
“Mara!” I steal a sip from my coffee if only to disguise how my cheeks flame. “You are so bold.” Forcing a laugh, I fake a smile that she doesn’t return.
“Fine,” she snaps, rolling her eyes. “We’ll leave that topic—for now. So how is the writing going? You get your essay done yet?”
“Not yet.”
“The deadline’s coming up,” she warns. “Not that I’m one to talk. It feels like I haven’t written anything good in ages. Like my sexual frustration is translating to a creative block. Damn Rafe Wei-Shen!”
“You said he’s slept with everyone?”
