Page 41 of Shadowed Whispers

I am not getting stranded on the mainland with him. “Time to go,” I grumble and hop into the driver’s seat. The engine purrs for me, and before my door is even shut, I peel away from the parking lot, heading straight for the bridge.

There’s a line to get off the island, and I nervously tap my thumb on the steering wheel, each tap echoing slightly in the confined space of the Jeep.

“You said we need to talk,” Leo reminds me.

Shit, yeah. I glance at him, my thumb missing a beat. “Listen.” I swallow, knowing I just have to say it because I put myself into this situation. Now, I have to figure out how to own up to the nonsense that spilled from my mouth. “Bishop is my ex,” I begin, feeling the old ache in my chest at his name. Matteo snorts softly from the back, his dark eyes unsettling yet oddly comforting in the rearview mirror.

“I ran into him earlier, and panic took over.” My voice drops to a whisper, betraying my frustration with myself. For as long as I could remember, I’d weave stories while under stress—stories that, like today, trapped me more than they freed me. I nudge the Jeep forward, avoiding the rearview mirror, dreading that Bishop might be trailing us.

Leo turns in his seat to face me, one knee bent, showcasing his torn, faded jeans. He’s so casual and at ease, looking absolutely comfortable in my chaotic world. “And where is this going, Frankie?” he asks, his tone unreadable as I inch toward the next vehicle.

“It was stupid, but I told him we were together—all of us. I thought it might make him back off.” The words fall out of me in a rush, but I’m not about to back down now.

“So let me get this straight.” I hear a thread of amusement in Leo’s voice, even as the tension thickens. “You ditched us over lunch.” He taps a finger to his lips, a gesture so characteristically him that it almost brings a smile to my face.

“You were with him,” Matteo says, leaning forward, his head poking between the seats. “I smell him on you.”

I slam on the brakes, making his whole body jerk forward, his chin hitting the seat. “Oops.” That’s what he gets for not wearing his seatbelt.

Luckily, Leo doesn’t react to Matteo’s words and continues to smile at me as though this entire situation pleases him. “So if we are dating, then how are we also dating Chloe and Amanda?” He hums, his face contorting like he’s pondering a real dilemma.

Luckily, we’re with the next batch of cars to get off the bridge, and the wind roars as we roll over the stretch of ocean, pausing our discussion. I’m equal parts glad for the break in conversation and irritated by it.

I need us to get a story together for Bishop, who is obnoxiously nosy and thinks he’s entitled to my body.

He wouldn’t think that if you’d just tell him no.

Not wrong. That dick is too good to say no, but let’s move on.

What I end up doing, however, is just tracking the sunset with my eyes as we leave the island. It’s beautiful here. Sometimes the sunset is a different color every night. The vibrance of the colors amazes me each and every time—reds and oranges to blues and purples. I’ve watched the sunset here a hundred times, and I’ll watch it a hundred more, falling in love with it all over again.

As my tire hits a nasty pothole, I veer off the bridge and take the road toward my boss’s house instead of heading toward the only diner worth going to, assuming it’s the right diner.

I throw the car into park and turn to the two damn near strangers in my car. One keeps looking at me like I just made his week, and the other is squinting at me speculatively.

“Where are we, Frankie Vale?” Leo looks smug, as if he thinks I actually brought him home to meet my family.

Joke’s on him, I don’t have one.

“My boss’s house.” I adjust so I can look at both of them. “Listen, I messed up. I told Bishop that we were dating to make him jealous. I put my foot in my mouth. I realize this. Can we just get through dinner and at the end, you can break up with me?” An idea sparks in my head. “That’s perfect, actually. Make a big show of breaking up with me.”

Leo raises a brow and turns to look at Matteo. I swear, it’s like they are having a conversation all to themselves. It’s weird, like when you’ve known someone for a long time, and you can just read them from one look alone.

I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone who looked at me like that, let alone who I looked at like that. It’s unnerving to have someone know you so well that they can read your emotions better than you can. I hate it and also want it.

My mind is a jumbled mess of push and pull.

“No.” Leo turns back to me, his ocean eyes holding a mischievous glint. His shaved head looks out of place, as though he needs a haircut that suits his personality, not one he has because all the rugby players shaved their heads together.

Then his reply sinks in.

“What do you mean, no?” I look back and forth between them before focusing on Matteo. “You agree with him?”

“Of course I agree.” He doesn’t even hesitate to reply.

I toss my hands up. “What the hell?” I frown, not really understanding it. “Just break it off, and you can go on your way. Date anyone else on campus. Meet someone, go to parties. I’ll even show you where the best hiding spots are.”

“We don’t want to date Chelsy or Avery,” Leo replies, and I’m pretty sure he messed up their names on purpose.

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