Page 76 of Lovers Like Us
But I leave my phone where it is and reroute back to the topic. “If Janie can’t even think of someone who’d make a murder account, then we’redoomed.”
Farrow crunches up. “You’re telling me no one was jealous of you? You’re a wealthy, attractive celebrity who swamcompetitively.”
I stare off,thinking.
“Moffy.” Jane perks up in a sudden thought. “Jason, Ray, andClark.”
“Who?” Farrow asks, noticing my darkened frown. He stays upright, his arm on the back of thecouch.
“Guys on the swim team with me,” I answer. Remembering the yacht, the summer bash, from years ago. My cheekbones sharpen. “The last time I talked to them, we beat the shit out of eachother.”
Farrow sweeps my features. “I need more thanthat.”
“Before I fought with Charlie on the yacht,” I say, “I overheard them talking about my mom in the master cabin. And I went off.” I shake my head a few times. “I was almost in a blackout rage, okay? I’m notproud.”
Farrow staresdeeper.
“What?” Iask.
“I was on that boat.” Farrow pauses, his jaw tensed. “It’s just hitting me that while I was laughing and drinking, you were below the deck getting beat toshit.”
I let out a sharp breath. “I did worse tothem—”
“You’re not a trained fighter, and it was three-on-one. You were probably on theground.”
He’s not wrong. “I held my own.” I study his protective gaze, and I realize he wishes he could’ve been there for me. “You want a timemachine?”
Farrow almost cracks a smile, but the gravity of the situation keeps him more serious. “What are their lastnames?”
Jane picks at her avocado mask. “Ray and Clark were both awarded scholarships to swim out of state. They wouldn’t have a Philadelphia IPaddress.”
“Jason Motlic would,” I say. “He stayed in Philly.” I look to Farrow. “You can put his name on thelist.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t reach for a notebook or his phone oranything.
“So it’s an imaginarylist.”
Farrow arches his brows. “My memory is better than yours. I don’t need to type out and print eighty-fourlists.”
I make a face. “How do I like you,man?”
“I think you meanlove,” heteases.
Don’t fucking smile.I lick my lips again and again, and before I reply, I notice Janie lying down on the other side of the couch. She kind of tucks her knees to her chest. Something she only does when she hascramps.
“Ça va?” I ask.Are youokay?
“Oui.” She splays the back of her hand on herforehead.
“Si tu ne te sens pas bien, je peux te trouver quelque chose.”If you don’t feel well, I can find yousomething.
“I weather this storm every month. I can manage on a bus.” She blows out a measured breath. “PeachesMcEntire.”
My brows scrunch. “Noway.”
Farrow starts another rep of sit-ups. “Peaches is a fruit ora…?”
“Girl,” I explain. “She’s our age, and we were all counselors at Camp Calloway together. She was even a troop captain in Wolf Scouts.” I look at Jane, her cat pajamas wrinkled. “And she’snice.”
