Page 122 of The Beekeeper

And it definitely wasn’t whole. It wasn’t even a heart half-full. Not after Blaze and Paisley moved out last weekend. It was a heart more than half-empty no matter how many times I tried to plug it with distraction.

“I know Blaze moved out, but it won’t last⁠—”

“Frankie.” I held up a hand to stop her. “I don’t want to talk about Blaze. Please.” I struggled to swallow over a fresh swell of sadness.

I missed him. I missed them. But what we had had run its course. There was nothing else to do; I’d certainly given Blaze plenty of opportunities to stay.

“Harper!” Nox bounded down the steps from the loft, his jeans hanging from his hips, and his tee misaligned on his torso like he’d just thrown it on in a hurry.

“What’s up⁠—”

“What the hell is Aria doing with Blaze?”

“What?” I couldn’t have heard him right.

“They’re dating.” He flashed his phone at me, the picture on it stopping my heart on a dime.

Out with the Honey, and In with the Brew.

The cheesy headline made me cringe, but it was the photo of the two of them, sitting at the café in Stonebar that made me want to vomit. No.

“What?” Frankie grabbed his phone, her jaw dropping. “You can’t be serious.” Anger slashed across her features.

I blinked rapidly to keep the sudden surge of tears back. Looked like I hadn’t cried them all out into my pillow over the last week and a half. “It’s fine, Frankie⁠—”

“It’s absolutely not fine. Not after everything you did—not after the two of you. Jesus, he only moved out last week. What the hell is wrong⁠—”

I snatched Nox’s phone back and shoved it into his chest. “It doesn’t matter.”

He muttered something under his breath, but I couldn’t tell what it was, and then he took his phone back and stomped upstairs. For a split-second, I wondered why my brother was so worried about his best friend’s little sister; I understood Blaze’s reputation, but this headline had to be a lie just like the others, right?

“Harper.” Frankie stepped in front of me.

“We were only just a fling, remember? A fling with an expiration date and a contract?” I asked both flippantly and with an edge to my voice. “Your splendid idea, if you recall.”

It was rare that Frankie’s bravado dropped, but this was one of those moments where it did, and what was left of her expression was crushed. That was how I knew it was bad. That was how I knew I must look bad—as transparent as my brother’s crystal glasses, revealing just how un-flinglike my feelings were for Blaze.

“Harper—”

“Don’t,” I begged. “I don’t…I don’t want to think about this. I signed up for a fling and that was what I got. I have no reason to be upset, to be anything.”

“That’s BS⁠—”

“Frankie—”

“Harper, calling what the two of you had a fling and saying you had no reason to expect more is like lighting a fuse and saying you didn’t expect the dynamite at the end to blow up.”

I stared. I couldn’t have heard her right. “What…are you talking about? You said—you told me to just have a fling⁠—”

“Yes,” she huffed. “To open the door that you two have been banging your heads on since Blaze came here last year and concussed himself. I knew you wouldn’t just stand there in the doorway, that you’d walk into the space you’ve been tiptoeing around for ages.”

“Except we didn’t, and now the door is shut again.”

“Is it?”

I shoved piece after piece of bubble wrap into the box in front of me like I could pack away all the feelings I didn’t want to face right now.

“He moved out, Frankie. It’s over.”