Page 42 of Love Me Fearless

You’ve got this, Greely!He called out from across the gym.

“Nope,” I reply. “How about you?”

His phone dings, like from an incoming text.

“Uh, just gonna hang out,” he says, sounding distracted.

Old feelings I don’t like rise up sharp and hot. It’s not jealousy because it was never like that between us. I always wanted more for him than a string of one-nighters. I wanted him to feel something inside. And to let someone feel for him.

Even if that person wasn’t me.

“Have fun,” I say with cheer I don’t feel.

“You too.” We say a quick goodbye and hang up.

I open my freezer and gaze at the cartons of my favorite ice cream, like it holds the answers, but it only chills my skin.

The same dreamstartles me awake at four a.m. I blink into the darkness, forcing a series of deep breaths into my lungs. Normally, I love my big bed and the way it swallows me, but right now, the emptiness feels vast. I use a grounding exercise I learned after the break-in, starting with five things I can see. Thanks to the pale glow from a night light in the hallway, the list comes easy.My dresser, the picture of me, Kirilee, and Sofie at her wedding, my bathrobe hanging on the back of my door, my blue and white comforter with the cloud pattern, and my lamp.

Four things I can hear.The soft breeze in the treetops. My heartbeat. The air in the vents. My silent house.

This is not the house four blocks from Sunset Beach in San Francisco. The intruder isn’t here.

It’s just me.

I’m safe.

Three things I can smell.My laundry detergent in the pillowcase.I squeeze a bead of vanilla-scented hand lotion from the tube in my bedside table drawer into my palm and work it into my fingers, focusing on the sensations. My mind drifts to Hutch’s sunbaked cotton scent and the earthy base notes of freshly turned soil.

I move through the rest of the exercise, each layer drawing me out of the past. When I finish, I feel better, but I know there’s no getting back to sleep, so I get dressed in my cozy sweats and pull my hair into a loose bun and get out my baking supplies. By six, I’m loading a batch of salted caramel brownies into two tins—one for the Finn River Sheriff’s department, and one for my dad and his crew of firefighters. Using my hands and focusing on the recipe asthe sunrise fills in the shadows and the hummingbirds crowd the feeders I keep stocked outside my kitchen window has pulled me all the way back to the present.

When I pull up to Moonbeam Farm a half hour later, Hutch’s truck isn’t there.

I know what it means, but I refuse to let it sour my mood. The house is still and dark, so I head to the far pasture. Caspar meets me at the fence corner. I rub his soft nose and scratch his neck.

Beth’s words rattle around in my head.Don’t you dare break his heart again.

Twin headlight beams cut the darkness below me. I glance over my shoulder as Hutch jumps down from the truck and heads inside.

Feelings I buried six years ago twist and tighten inside me.

I won’t let him break my heart again, either.

Chapter Eleven

I carrya load of firewood to the big pit in the center of the group campsite, joining Zach who is splitting kindling with a small hatchet. Beyond in the shallow creek, Sofie and Curren are playing with Jesse and his daughter Skye, the evening sunlight reflecting off the clear water. The shrieks and laughter coming from the two kids blends with the gentle shush of water moving over the rocks.

I should be soaking up all these good vibes, but I’m jumpy and preoccupied, like a kid waiting for party guests to arrive. Only there’s just one person I want to see.

It’s irritating as hell.

I thought I could get Ava out of my mind last night by spending it with someone else. An old hookup who was thrilled to hear from me. But as soon as I’d set it up, I knew it was a mistake, and I cancelled. Instead, I spent the night alone in the back of mom’s truck, staring at the stars.

“Surprised you got the night off,” I say to Zach. I kneel at the edge of the fire pit to build a teepee with rolled up newspaper.

“It’s my first since Marin went missing.” His stoic tone tells mehe’s not fully present, but how could he be with a high-stakes murder investigation underway?

It’s been over forty-eight hours since we found Marin, and there have been no arrests. I’m no detective, but it’s not hard to take this as a bad sign.

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