Page 38 of The Last Love Song
“And they said you shouldn’t be at the wedding event?” He leaned down to get in her line of vision, tipping his head sideways so she was forced to see him.
“There were three texts.” Giving in, she set down the napkins and looked at him, the concern in his eyes making her need to share something. To offload some little piece of all the stuff that hurt her. “Anonymous texts.”
“What did they say?”
“The first one said, ‘You are such a slut.’”
He startled backward, as if she’d hit him.
“You’re kidding.”
“Of course not.” Still, she felt a little like theScarlet Letterlady that she’d shocked him. “You know how high school girls can be.”
“Uh. No. I don’t.” He shook his head. “I hang out with guys in shop class and we rebuild car engines for fun. No one is calling anyone a—that.”
“Well, it’s not that uncommon.” She definitely wasn’t ever letting Wade find out about the social media page. If he thought “slut” was a big deal, he’d die if he saw the kind of crap written there. “Then I got a note that said, ‘Don’t you have anything better to do on a weekend than ruin everyone else’s good time?’ That one came after I spilled an ice tub, and a bunch of kids were laughing at me. That’s why I figured one of them—at the wedding breakfast—sent the text.”
“I wish I’d been there.” Wade’s face became fierce.
It made her want to hug him. Or maybe tuck herself under his arm. She didn’t quite know what she felt. It was nice to hear someone else say she didn’t deserve those mean notes.
“I ignored them.” She knew it wasn’t cool to let other people fight your battles. Especially people like Wade, who had bigger, real-world problems than dumb high school crap. “But the last text said that I should do everyone a favorand die, which really put the icing on the cake.”
“That’s bullshit.” The anger in his voice rocked her.
She’d never heard him angry.
“It’s just kid stuff?—”
“No. It isn’t. That’s a threat, Meg.” His jaw worked, a muscle in his cheek twitching. “You need to report that.”
“To who? And what would anyone even do about it when?—”
“Guys?” The swinging door from the dining room slammed open, Izzy’s red face framed in the opening. “Seriously, I need help getting this order out.”
Megan stood, glad to end the conversation.
Wade got up, too, but he blocked her exit from the booth.
“You have to tell somebody.”
“I’ll think about it. Come on.” She nudged him backward. “We have to go.”
“Don’t let this person get away with scaring you like that.”
“I’m not scared?—”
“Anyonewould be scared.” He lifted a hand, reaching toward her, then hesitated. When his palm clamped around her shoulder, the touch was awkward, but nice, too. Warm.
“Well, I don’t want to be.” She shrugged, totally out of her depth but oddly comforted.
Finally, his hand fell away and he moved toward the door so they could help Isabel with the fish-fry order.
“We’ll figure out who sent them.” His words were close to her ear as he opened the door for her. “Even if I have to go back to school myself to do it.”
He gave her ponytail a light tug as they walked through the door into the dining room filled with people. Isabel glared at them from a cloud of steaming fish.
Megan’s scalp tingled as her heart squeezed tight. Hard to believe only a few hours ago she thought of him as the sweet, gangly kid she worked with. Now? He sort of seemed like the nicest guy on earth. One of the cuter ones, too.
