Page 32 of The Enemy Plot

We continue chatting about me, Lola, and our relationship. And for once, it really feels like justthat—chatting. Not me being put in the hot seat and counting the minutes until our session is over.

Unfortunately, for every step forward, we take two steps back. At least, that’s what it feels like when you’re raising a teenager. Spring Break started a few days ago, and Lola and I are back on barely-speaking terms. She spends half her time complaining about not being allowed to hang out with her friends in the city, and the other half either shut in her room or holed up at the bookstore next door.

I’ve finally finished the renovations upstairs, and while this apartment doesn’t have the appeal of my old house—like being an actual house in the middle of nowhere—it’s starting to feel like home. Lola and I went shopping yesterday, and she chose a few decorative objects for the shared spaces, like carpets, plants, candles, and shelves. I don’t really need any of that stuff, but I know a woman’s brain works differently. And if that can help her feel more at home, I’ll suffer through a cinnamon-scented candle. At least she also grabbed a pine one for my sake.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my hometown these past few days, and with the sunny weather peeking in, I’m missing the outdoors more than ever. It’s been an unusuallyhot spring on the East Coast, and this city already feels like a giant pressure cooker about to explode. It’s only sixty-five degrees. I don’t know how I’ll ever survive summer in Brooklyn.

Dr. Stewart had mentioned it might take some time before I muster the courage to go back home, but I feel ready. Maybe a breath of fresh air would do me—and Lola—some good. The Raptors have a few days off before the next game, so closing the bar wouldn’t impact my business too much. Even if the guys like to hang out there on the nights they don’t play, I’m sure they’ll understand.

Lola emerges from her room for a bathroom break, so I take the opportunity to talk to her.

“Hey, what would you say about going on a little trip for a few days?”

“Where?” she asks, looking at me with a neutral expression.

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe New Hampshire? They’ve been having a mild spring, and it would be a nice change of scenery. We could go hiking, fishing, camping.”

“Ew. I hate that stuff.”

I wrinkle my forehead. “Really? But you’ve been talking about wanting to go out for days, saying that you feel cooped up here. This is your opportunity.”

“I don’t want to go to some forest with you,” she snaps, stomping back to her room. “I want to go out with my friends.”

My shoulders fall, and all my hopes of spending a few days out of the city vanish. “Wait,” I call after her. I feel bad for always resorting to this tactic, but it’s the only thing that works. “What if Alice came?”

She cocks her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. “With us? To New Hampshire?”

“Yes.”

She thinks about it for what seems like forever, then she nods. “Okay.” Glancing at me, she adds, “You like her, don’t you?”

“What?” I choke out, then break into a cough.

“Alice. You have a crush on her. I get it, she’s super nice and really pretty. She would be good for you.”

I swallow hard. “I—no. Yes, I guess she is. But I’m not looking for a girlfriend, Lola. One girl in my life is more than enough.” I smile, but I’m pretty sure it looks forced.

“Fine,” she says, folding her arms over her chest. “Shame, though. You’d be a good match, I think.”

I resist the urge to ask her why on earth she would think that. Alice and I couldn’t be more different. Besides, she’s searching for the perfect gentleman. I don’t exactly fit the bill. “So, we’re going?”

“Yes, if she comes with us.”

My chest warms instantly. Now, I just have to convince Alice to go on a trip with me. Uh—I mean, with us. And it’s absolutely crucial that she agrees. There’s a weird tingle in my chest as I think about the trip. Alice has to say yes. She has to. It’s my only shot at spending a few days in nature, after all. I think I may have underestimated how much I need this trip.

Alice

I’m trying to get the perfect shot of my Pink Wednesday stack, but the lighting is all wrong, no matter how many angles I try. I swear, this Bookstagram thing isn’t always a breeze. But I love Pink Wednesday, and I am determined to make it work.

A notification flashes on my phone as I’m getting the stack into frame. It’s a text from Emma.

Emz:Grumpy neighbor in the store looking for you.

My heart jolts, and the phone drops from my hand. Why is Deacon looking for me? We haven’t seen each other since that awkward flirting thing after the concert. Of course, that hasn’t stopped me from thinking about him, onceor twice—or one thousand times.Merde. What does he want?

I hurry downstairs. Emma is behind the counter, pretending to look at the computer, but I immediately catch her sideways glance. And that little smirk.

Deacon is standing near the entrance, wearing a simple black T-shirt with a pair of jeans and looking way too delicious. His usual frown completes the look. Big surprise.

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