Page 3 of Fool Me Once

I probably scared him away.

I love Smith Sawyer. I have loved him for as long as I’ve known him. I feel like a crazy person because imagining him really walking away from me is sending me into a spiral. I’m desperate to keep him, even if that makes me pathetic.

“Fuck it,” I murmur, dropping my hand from the curtain and tossing the brush onto my bed.

I should be comfortable enough to walk across the dang street and ask him what’s going on face-to-face.

You’re probably just overreacting. He’s busy. He has hockey. And friends. And a life.

I appreciate my brain for reminding me of those things, and that might be true, but still, my gut is telling me something is off.

Jogging down the stairs, I slide my sandals on and rush out my front door before I can convince myself not to. As I cross the street, the closer Iget to Smith’s front door, the more nauseous I feel. This is stupid because not only is his sister my best friend, but their entire family is like my own.

Lifting my hand to the door, I shake my head at myself. I don’t think I’ve knocked on this door since I was probably nine. I’ve always just … busted in. For some reason, right now, that doesn’t seem appropriate.

I knew sleeping together would make everything weird.

Before my fist knocks, the door opens, and Saylor steps out.

She pulls the door closed behind her and walks over to the porch swing, plopping down.

“Hey,” she says softly, a troubled expression all over her face.

“Hi,” I whisper, standing across from where she sits.

She came over last night, and we watched movies, but I didn’t bring her brother up to her or tell her that he’d been acting strange the past few days. Saylor says she doesn’t care that we’re sleeping together, but I also don’t want to put our relationship in her face.

“Something tells me you didn’t come here, looking for me.” She swallows. “If you had … I don’t think you would have been standing outside, about to knock on the door.”

“Where is he?” I whisper, looking at the house.

She’s quiet, and that’s not something Saylor Sawyer is known for.

She drags in a shaky breath, her forehead creasing slightly. “Halfway to Connecticut by now, I’d imagine.”

Though the words slip from her lips regretfully, they hit me like a direct slap to the face, and my head snaps back.

“What?” Comes out more like a bark than a word. “What the hell do you mean, halfway to Connecticut? He’s not supposed to leave for almost two more weeks.”

Every word that comes from my lips only seems to pain her more. She rocks the swing gently, pushing her feet against the porch for momentum as she looks away from me.

“He left early, Gem,” she says sadly, lifting her gaze to mine. “I am so sorry.”

For a moment, I stand there, completely stunned. I know he’s been acting weird, but there’s no way in hell he just spent every spare second of his time the past month with me and then left without so much as a goodbye. There’s just no way.

“I don’t believe you,” I snap. “He’s inside, isn’t he? He’s found someone new or some shit, and he doesn’t have the balls to say it to my face even though we’ve known each other since we were kids.” My skin vibrates with anger and hurt. “You’re just lying to cover for him so he doesn’t have to deal with me himself.”

“Gem,” she whispers with a slight shake of her head, “you know me better than that.”

Taking a step back, I glance at the front door. “I’ll go see for myself.”

“Gemma, wait—”

I don’t listen to what she says next. I just bolt toward the door and pull it open. Rushing up the stairs, I round the corner and open his door. I know he’s gone right away without even looking around.

It’s not the missing posters and empty desk that tell me for sure either. It’s just a feeling—a deep, intense sensation in my soul—telling me I was too naive to believe this would happen.

I should have known it was all too good to be true.

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