Page 110 of Fly's Path

But how could I sleep after a night like that?

“You okay?”

Not even close. I pull up the app. “Twenty-five-point-two-miles.”

“Wait, what? You almost ran a marathon last night. How are you standing?”

I shrug. “It happens on occasion.”

“It happens. People just don’t randomly run a marathon in the middle of the night.”

“Well, they should. It helps clear your mind.”

“And do you feel clear this morning?”

“Not even a little bit. But I’m tired.” I sink down onto one of the stools by the island. “He messaged me, and I don’t know what to do.”

“The first thing you’re going to do is eat. My brain doesn’t work when I don’t eat. I can’t even imagine how yours is working without any food.”

Except I already ate. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

Dahlia blinks. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something? There are eggs, sausage, bacon, cereal, toast…I could make you some oatmeal.”

“There’s no need to go out of your way. I’m fine. I’ll have something at the party.” Dealing with the guilt for eating her food would add more stress than I need at the moment.

“Dahl, are you ready to go?” Maverick walks into the room and stops when he sees me. His face changes as he walks over. “How are you feeling? If you aren’t up to this—”

“You’re not getting out of going.” Dahlia grins at him.

“I am genuinely concerned about your friend.” He walks over and wraps her in his arms.

She melts into him. “I know you are. But you still have to go to the party.”

“Dahl.” Is that scary man pleading with her?

“It’ll be fun.”

“I’m bringing a few more guns. Make sure your friend is ready. We’ll leave in fifteen minutes.” He gives her a hard, quick kiss on the lips and leaves.

Sighing for her would be wrong, right? But that man doesn’t seem to mind showing the world how much he loves her, and that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Though the gun part is a little scary…maybe he means prop guns. “I'd better go grab my bag.” It was a cowardly exit, but I so wasn’t ready to discuss Fly yet.

***

My head can hardly comprehend what my eyes see. Winnie’s house is a castle. Like a legit castle with turrets, a moat—which is more like a babbling stream, but add a few crocs and it would be a deterrent for anyone—and two massive carved wood doors thathave a metal gate that drops down in front of them. I’m in love…and terrified. Just how rich is Winnie? And how eccentric is the family member who built this thing? Because I bet they’d be the coolest person ever to talk to.

The car pulls through the gates and into a courtyard in front of the manor house inside the castle walls. The melting-glass windows look original, yet something about them feels off. Too thick, maybe.

“I like Winnie’s style.” Maverick stops the car in front of the waiting valets. He growls and jumps out of the car as one of the valets moves towards Dahlia’s door.

The man doesn’t seem to have a death wish since he backs up with his hands in the air.

Smart man. I’d do the same.

Maverick slides his hand into his pocket, then walks over to the guy, shaking his hand and talking to him a mile a minute before he turns back and opens Dahlia’s door and mine at the same time.

That man gives me gentleman vibes…scary gentleman, but still, he’s sweet.

“Of course you’d like Winnie’s style. She’s as scary as you are.”