Page 120 of The Keeper

I paused my fifth rewatch of Jurassic Park and looked up as Scarlett entered my room and planted her hands on her hips. To my surprise, Brooklyn trailed after her, looking impossibly chic in linen shorts and oversized sunglasses.

I shot upright. “Brook! I thought you and Vincent were leaving for St. Tropez today.”

“We were. We will,” she amended. “But we’re staying a little longer because clearly, things are still not okay.”

I slumped back down on the couch. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, this is not sustainable.” Brooklyn gestured at the TV. “How many times have you watched that stupid movie?”

“Not that many,” I lied.

“You don’t even like dinosaurs.”

“I don’t have to like dinosaurs to appreciate the cinematic masterpiece that is Steven Spielberg’s landmark 1993 sci-fi adventure film,” I said, parroting what I’d read online. “Did you know that the T. rex’s roar is actually a composite mix of different animal sounds, including a baby elephant’s squeal, an alligator’s gurgle, and a tiger’s growl? Fascinating stuff.”

My friends exchanged glances.

“We definitely have to get you out of the house,” Scarlett said. “Watching Noah’s favorite movie on repeat isn’t healthy.”

I knew I should’ve never told her this was Noah’s favorite childhood film.

“That’s not why I’m watching it,” I said defensively. “Look. I have Legally Blonde queued up next. That’s not one of his favorite movies.”

The excuse sounded weak to my own ears. I’d moved into Scarlett and Asher’s house five days ago, and I’d spent most of that time, well, moping. I answered emails for RAB and applied to new volunteer positions at various animal organizations in London, but I also spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about Noah.

It was pathetic. I hated that I was spiraling over a man, but the radio silence since I moved out had fucked with my head. Maybe it was stupid and delusional of me to expect him to call or text, given the way we’d left things, but I really thought that we would’ve made up by now. That our time apart would’ve put everything into perspective. Instead, the only things I knew for certain were 1) I missed him terribly, and 2) my issues with our relationship hadn’t changed.

If he couldn’t find a way to properly communicate and let me in, this wasn’t going to work. The media frenzy had died down considerably, but I needed to know we could weather storms together and not simply apart. That was something he had to figure out on his own. I couldn’t reach out first and undermine myself when I was the one who’d asked for space.

Logically, I got that Noah was giving me what I’d asked for. Illogically, I still wanted him to fight for us. To prove that we were worth fighting for and that he wouldn’t let me go without so much as a text.

“Carina.” Scarlett’s voice brought my attention back to her. She crossed her arms, her expression stern. She and Asher had taken me in without complaint when I asked, but she seemed to have hit her limit with my moping. The only bright spot of my week was the fact that the video of my kneeing the Unfiltered Tea “reporter” in the balls never got posted. I wasn’t sure why, but I wasn’t going to question it. “As co-owner of this house and your best friend, I’m making an executive decision to take you outside for a walk.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“You’ve barely stepped foot outside the house since you moved in,” she said, ignoring my half-hearted protest. “Do you even remember what fresh air feels like?”

“Like humidity and hell?” London was in the middle of a heat wave. I had zero desire to go outside now or possibly ever. I just wanted to lie on the couch, eat popcorn, and watch old movies. “It’s too hot for a walk.”

“Lucky for you, we have another option.” Brooklyn pushed her sunglasses on top of her head. Her eyes gleamed with dangerous mischief. “Vince and I aren’t the only ones here. The boys are back in town.”

I gulped. “What boys?”

She smiled.

And that was when I knew I was in deep shit.

My friends dragged me kicking and screaming to Noah’s house. (That was only a slight exaggeration.) When they finally deposited me outside the game room, where the entire Blackcastle team was hanging out, I vowed never to speak to them again and to withdraw my services as Scarlett’s bridesmaid.

“You’re dead to me,” I said. “I want the pink matching jerseys back. And after I move out—thanks again for letting me stay at your place, by the way—I’m blocking you.”

“This is for your own good,” Scarlett said, unfazed by my threats. “We love you, but we can’t watch you mope around the house anymore. Either break up with Noah for good, or find him and talk to him. This weird in-between isn’t it.”

“Vincent says Noah has been miserable too, so at least you’re not alone,” Brooklyn added.

I hated the flutter of hope in my chest. “He did? He is? I mean, I don’t care.”

They exchanged glances and heaved identical sighs.