Page 26 of Unlucky in Love
“Ryan—”
He ignored her and edged forward, flashlight slicing through the shadows. The beam landed on a pair of glowing eyes.
Ryan swore.
A raccoon blinked at him from atop a stack of newspapers, one paw buried in an open box. It hissed, unimpressed, before scurrying into the dark.
Taylor burst out laughing. She doubled over, hand braced on her knee, her laughter echoing wildly through the basement. “You—you were ready to fight a raccoon!”
Ryan turned, scowling, but his ears burned. “That thing could’ve been dangerous.”
“It was looking for snacks.” She wiped at her eyes, still grinning. “Big bad Marine, defeated by a raccoon.”
Ryan tried to hold his glare, but the sound of her laughter softened him against his will. He shook his head and muttered, “One day, you’re going to thank me for being paranoid.”
She straightened, still smiling, and pointed. “Look.”
Tucked onto one of the shelves, resting on a pile of forgotten ledgers, was a small leather journal. The cover was supple and worn, the kind of thing someone would pick out carefully. A thin ribbon tied it closed.
Taylor reached for it reverently, brushing away dust. Her breath caught as she opened the cover.
Inside, in the same neat handwriting, was the message:
Fill this with the stories you’re too afraid to tell.
Her lips parted. She ran her hand over the page, eyes shining in the dim light. For a moment, she looked utterly undone, as if someone had reached into her chest and pulled out a secret she hadn’t shared with anyone.
Ryan watched her, a strange ache settling in his chest.
He swallowed. “What kind of stories?”
Taylor blinked, tucking the journal against her chest. “Nothing important.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
Ryan stepped closer, flashlight beam lowering. “You’ve been writing since you were a kid. You think I didn’t notice the way you hoarded notebooks like gold? You used to bite my head off if I even tried to look.”
She gave him a small, defiant smile. “I was writing about unicorns. Remember?”
He snorted. “Right.”
Her smile widened, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She wasn’t going to tell him, not tonight. Ryan let it go, but her unwillingness to open up gnawed at him. He knew her better than she thought, but getting her to trust him with things she kept close to the vest was becoming his favorite challenge.
Taylor broke the silence with a laugh, lighter now. “Well, good news. No stalker. Just one raccoon with a taste for vintage newspapers.”
Ryan shook his head, fighting a smile. “I still say it had murder in its eyes.”
She tucked the journal into her bag, looking lighter than she had when they walked in. “Thank you for coming, Ryan.”
He glanced at her, surprised. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
“I thought you’d tease me the whole time.”
“I did,” he pointed out.
She laughed again, and the sound filled the basement, chasing away the last of the shadows.
