Palming myself to ease the pressure in my pants, I ignore the slew of texts from the group chat and click on the one from my brother.
Chase: A pap broke past the gate
Chase: Mom came by and talked to police with me
Chase: You there???
Chase: Bad time to not be on your phone dude. Mom called your manager and they’re getting it taken care of
Chase: Call me when you see this
“Fuck.” I bolt up and instantly dial his number, cursing when I see my phone only has 10% battery left.
“It’s about time, asshole,” is my brother’s greeting. “I tried calling you like five times, and I don’t want to know how many times Mom did.”
I scrub a hand down my face. “I’m sorry. My phone was on silent so it wouldn’t wake Rylee.”
There’s a moment of silence. “I want to comment on that but it’s not important right now. They didn’t get to the house, but one of them got into the garage and took pictures of Rylee’s car and the stuff inside it.”
“I thought you said there was one?”
“There was two. Knew each other.”
“Arrested?”
“Yes.”
I growl out, “Good.”
Chase sighs. “Michael said he paid them off to get the pictures and made sure the SD cards were wiped on their cameras. But that doesn’t mean they won’t talk. And Mom thinks it’s best if there’s more security outside your gate until things clear up. She said something about Michael mentioning party photos which is why these guys broke in to confirm something they’d heard through the grapevine.”
Pinching my nose, I shake my head. “I knew that fucking party wasn’t going to end well. Did anyone elaborate on what was circulating?”
If they saw her car, which she barely cleaned anything out of, then who knows what they found inside.
“No clue. Sorry.”
Fuck me. “I’ll get in touch with Michael and have him fill me in. I don’t want this happening again so we need to handle it early. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. The house is fine. You don’t have to worry about that. Just…yeah. Maybe call your manager sooner rather than later.”
He sounds like he knows more than he’s letting on, but I don’t press him on it. I grumble but agree, already feeling a small headache form in the back of my skull when I realize how this next call will go down. There’s nothing worse than having someone you dislike saying I told you so.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes even though it’s not his fault.
“Don’t worry about it. Focus on your house and your…situation. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”
I’m about to hang up when he says, “Oh, and your dumbass friends sent something to the house this morning after the police left. It’s a stuffed pig with a note that says “RIP” in bold letters. What exactly does that mean? Who died?”
Shaking my head, I brush it off. “It’s nothing. They’re being idiots. I’ll check in with you later once I talk to Michael, yeah?”
Hanging up after we say goodbye, I go through the rest of my notifications that I missed during the night and realize it’s going to be a long day of making phone calls. As much as I want to go with Rylee to meet her friend before we leave, I probably won’t have time to stay. It may be nice for her to spend time one-on-one with her anyway.
I decide not to bring up what happened when I walk downstairs and see Rylee and her family eating at the table. She won’t meet my eyes, but both her parents do.
I simply say, “Good morning.”
They say it back.
She doesn’t.
I don’t regret what happened between us.
But it’s obvious she does.
25
Rylee
Moffie makes a weird squealing sound that makes both me and her husband Eli cringe as she gapes at the man dropping me off at their new place. He opens the door for me and closes it once I’m out, waving at my best friend who clearly forgot to keep her cool like she promised.
Though, it’s hard to contain my laughter when she blurts, “We have muffins” to the Australian who’s leaning against my mother’s Jeep that she’s letting us borrow while we’re here so we don’t have to use the rental Garrick got us.
Garrick plays along, trying to contain his wavering smile. “What kind?”
“Blueberry.”
Eli and I exchange amused looks at Moffie as she waves her hands frantically at their cute little single family home. “I can make different ones. You once said in People magazine that chocolate chip was your favorite, but I think that was when you were younger, and tastes change all the time because I never used to like sweet potatoes but now I love them and—”
“Moff. Babe,” Eli chuckles, pulling her back into his chest and wrapping his arms around her waist. “I think you need to breathe and let the man answer before you offer up the deed to our house too.”
Moffie glares at her husband. “As if he’d even want to live here. It’s small.”
Eli frowns. “You love this house.”
“But he,” she says, jabbing her finger at Garrick, “wouldn’t. I mean, he’s got like four houses all over the world and like twenty cars or something. It’d hardly work for him.”
My eyes bug out over that tidbit of information that I didn’t know. Who needs twenty cars and four houses? I turn to him with a lifted brow, but he simply shrugs as if to say, you didn’t ask.
Sighing, I break up her moment. “Garrick said he has stuff to take care of, so you’re stuck with me. I happen to love blueberry muffins.”
My best friend looks disappointed but nods begrudgingly. “I made them for you anyway,” she murmurs, stretching out her hand toward me.
I look at the man watching me carefully. We haven’t exchanged many words since he joined us for breakfast, and I
