Page 51 of The Unfinished Line

But even still, even with all of it in technicolor, I struggled to kick it to the curb. She’d been my best friend—or rather,I’dbeenherbest friend—for twenty years. I didn’t know how to just let that go. I didn’t know how to cut that cord.

“Of course I want to,” I stumbled, the words sticking in my throat as my tongue grew very dry. “It’s just…” I wanted to look at Dillon, to beg her help, but I didn’t dare. Not with Dani staring at me the way she was. “I mean, I guess. Yeah. We can come for a little while.”

“Wonderful!” Darlene filled the ensuing silence and my mom patted my knee.

“I’m glad you’ll stay, darling. Do you have a hotel for the night? You know you’re both welcome to stay with us.”

“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Kingsbury,” said Dillon quickly, rising to her feet, “but I’m afraid I have to drag Kameryn with me up to the bay. I have a little business there. But we’ll be back in time for breakfast.” She smiled at Darlene. “Thank you for the invite, Mrs. Hallwell.”

I stood, sinking my foot into my wayward heel, kissed my parents’ cheeks, thanked the Hallwells for their hospitality, and mutteredgoodnightto Dani. All the while hating myself for caving in.

Good old Kiss-Up Kingsbury.

Scene 18

“I promise, as soon as we pull out of here, I’m going to text her and cancel,” Kam said as the valet disappeared to bring up her car. “I don’t know why I didn’t just say no!”

“How could you say no to Terrine de Campagne?”

“Oh, my God.” Kam groaned from behind the hands she flung over her face. “I’m so sorry!”

“Why?”

“Why?” Kam dropped her hands. “Where should I even start?Them!” She tilted her head toward the house. “That entire family. Carter. My parents giving you the third degree. That stupid game. All of it. The whole night!”

There was something wildly endearing about the way her words all ran together when she was frustrated. About her unintentional dramatic flare.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had a wonderful time.”

Kam shot her a pointed glare. “You’re being a smartass.”

“Me?” Dillon donned her best expression of disbelief. “Never. I’m simply looking forward to hen’s egg mayo and English cress in the morning.”

“Oh, shut up!” Swatting at her with her purse, Kam laughed as Dillon easily caught her wrist, pulling her half a step closer.

“Careful, or I’ll have to kiss you here with Mrs. Hallwelllooking on.” She flicked her eyes over Kam’s shoulder to the second-story window, where a lone silhouette stood watching through the dew-streaked glass.

“I wish you would. It would feel like a win to send her rushing to her medicine cabinet to pound a fist full of valium.”

The worn tires on Kam’s Honda squealed across the damp brick of the driveway as the valet hopped out of the car. Dillon swiped up the keys, handing the boy a tenner, and opened the passenger door for Kam. “Up for a drive to the city?”

“Got some pressing ‘business’ to handle?” Kam needled as Dillon jogged around to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel.

“In fact, I do.” She fumbled for the ignition and adjusted the rearview mirror. “I want to check out the bay. I’d like to see the distance between Alcatraz and the mainland.”

Kam laughed. “And here I thought you actually had an ulterior motive for not wanting to stay with my parents.” She kicked her feet out of her heels and propped them up on the dash. “I should have known you were just thinking about a swim!”

It was partially true. Shewasthinking about a swim. An unrated race that had nothing to do with the World Triathlon Championship Series. One that fell a week between Leeds and Montreal, the two most important competitions of the year. She didn’t know if her coach, Alistair, would go for it. Two races in one month was one too many—three was absurd. Especially when one of them didn’t count for anything. A little prize money. A striped black and white jersey that readI Escaped from Alcatraz. Bragging rights to say you swam, cycled, and ran in one of the most iconic cities in the world.

But—and it was thebutthat mattered—it got her back to California. Got her back to Kam.

She just couldn’t admit any of that.

How pathetic would she look if Kam knew she was already contemplating plans to see her six months in advance when they hadn’t even made it through a single night together?

It wasn’t like her. Not one girl she’d dated since Kelsey had made her wonder where they’d stand the following week—let alone half a year later. Hookups. Weekend rendezvous. An occasional fortnight fling. None of them had meant much.

Yet here she was, arse-over-tits-stupid, trying to figure out how she could convince her sponsors that the Northern California race would benefit her season.

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