Page 25 of Under the Weatherman
“What’syourinterest?” His lip tipped up at the corner, teasing me for catching a crush. He had way more practice at strings-free encounters than I did.
“I thought we hit it off.” I left it there, praying Evan hadn’t confided our whole encounter to Kyan. “But I haven’t heard from him. Is he married or seeing someone?”
“Oh, you’re for real gonna ask me the deets on some other guy?” He poked my shoulder with his knuckle. “Is that how it is now?” But he was still chuckling, and I knew he was just messing with me.
This was going nowhere, and I only needed Kyan to take my shifts, not fix my social life. “You know what? Never mind. I was just thinking out loud.”
“Sure.” He kept that Cheshire grin, and I felt exposed, like he had me at a disadvantage somehow, but I wasn’t sure how. It wasn’t like he could exploit any of that information. Evan had already blown me off. “I can take your shifts, no problem.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Yup.” He grabbed the door and yanked it open. “But you owe me one.”
“I know. Thanks, Kyan.”
When I turned to walk home, I caught sight of Basil coming back the other way, holding a paper coffee cup. A cup with a logo from the shop Chelsea worked at.
Chapter Eight
Evan
“Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.”
The Tempest
My knees bounced nervously as I awaited my last in-person appointment with Dr. Price. I’d tried to take her advice to let go of the feedback loop in my brain, but fear doesn’t respond to logic.
Especially when my worst fears had been realized time and time again. Hell, things I hadn’t even known to fear had reared up to bite me.
When Elizabeth—or Liz or Lizzy or whatever she was choosing to go by—had first reacted to my message, I thought she had to be kidding. She’d acted like she liked me. She’dtextedme.
Confused, I’d messaged back,I thought you might want to see me again.
Before shutting off my phone for the flight, I’d scrolled through her posts, finding no sign of Lizzy, though I could see a family resemblance in a couple of faces. Cousins, maybe? Did she have a sister?
When we landed, I’d planned on calling her so I could hear the tone in her voice, but she’d written,Why would I need to see you again?
It knocked my breath out.
I’d driven home, combing through my memories of that night, looking for clues I’d misread her intent. We’d had amazing chemistry, and I was convinced she’d been as interested as I was. Had she just used me for sex?
My anxiety spiked as I sorted through more nefarious explanations—like was this payback for ditching her in high school? Maybe she’d just changed her mind.
So I made moving plans and tried to forget about her. I didn’t know what else to do. She hadn’t invited discussion, but it made no sense to me. The worst part was that I had no closure.
At last week’s session, Dr. Price had told me I needed to honor boundaries and find something else to occupy my mind, and since I didn’t want to turn into a stalker, I took a deep breath and deleted her number and blocked her on the messaging app to remove any temptation to demand an answer.
Amidst all that emotional turmoil, I reconsidered the job in Charlottesville. At least Elizabeth’s confusing rejection had the benefit of clearing up my motivations. In the end, Charlottesville stood out as the best choice for me. The simple truth was that the minute I’d set foot back in the Piedmont, I could breathe again for the first time in years. The smells, the views, the weather, it all felt like a second skin, familiar—me.
And yeah, people who’d hurt me far worse than Elizabeth still lurked in the shadows of my hometown, but my bad luck hadn’t been isolated to high school, or even Virginia. I was a magnet for awful people everywhere I went. At least if I returned to the stomping grounds of my youth, I’d have a chance to reclaim it as my own.
So I sat in the waiting room, hoping Dr. Price would bolster my fragile resolve to leave Elizabeth alone, maybe tell me I’d taken my shot and should let it go. I’d copy down some coping strategies to help me transition to a new town without showing up at Elizabeth’s front door like I needed a restraining order. Maybe Bas could be my sponsor.
My phone buzzed. I glanced up at Dr. Price’s door to verify she wasn’t about to call me in and checked the notification.
For a beat, my lizard brain hoped it might be from Elizabeth, but the message came from Kyan’s profile.
My spidey senses were right. I’m not sure what kind of prank they were pulling that night, but your Lizzy Grant is a fake. Remember Chelsea’s loco sidekick I told you about? Her name’s Elizabeth, and I ran into her just now. She confessed it all. Just thought you’d want to know.
