Page 81 of Home Sweet Home

“I really need to start locking the door,” Evie said, her eyes half shut as she tried to adjust to the brightness.

Kayla grinned. “But what if the neighbor needs a cup of sugar?”

“You are entirely too perky for this early in the morning,” Evie said.

“Well…” Kayla scooted closer to Evie on the bed. “It’s almost noon, so I don’t really think that counts as morning anymore.”

Evie glanced at her phone, eyes widening at the time. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept past seven. She dropped her phone on the mattress and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. The only two words that came to mind to sum up the last twenty-four hours of her life were “I’m sad.”

“You know what?” Kayla asked, and her tone surprised Evie. It was the same one she used whenever Ryleigh colored on the walls. It was enough to make Evie pay more attention, because she’d definitely been expecting more sympathy. “I’m sad too. Want to know why?”

Kayla looked at Evie with one eyebrow raised, no sign of amusement on her face, and Evie tried to remember the last time she’d seen Kayla look so serious about pretty much anything. “I found out my best friend almost lost her house from fucking Polly Patecki. I thought you trusted me.”

“I do trust you.” Evie sat up so her back was against the headboard. It took all the energy in her body, but this seemed like the wrong kind of conversation to have flat on her back. “You’re the only person I trust.” Evie’s stomach twisted as realization dawned on her. “And what do you mean you found out from Polly?”

“Scooch,” Kayla said, and as Evie moved over on the bed, Kayla climbed in next to her, pulling the covers over her lap. “You little lovebirds had your blowup on your front lawn in broad daylight. I fully expect a verbatim transcript in theChronicletoday.” Evie groaned at yet another thing she was going to have to live down. Between the argument and the article, she would be the talk of the town until something more interesting happened, which, based on the pace of Creek Water, could be years down the line. “Why didn’t you tell me about the mortgage? You’re my best friend, and you didn’t tell me something important. I could have helped you. Iwouldhave helped you.”

Evie couldn’t remember the last time they’d fought over something more significant than who had to clean the food-clogged drain in the sink at Joe’s, but she could tell Kayla was actually hurt. It made Evie’s stomach pang with guilt. “I wanted to tell you. I was going to. But then you showed me the salon, and… I didn’t want to hold you back.”

Kayla sighed. “Evie. In the last month, you made dozens of perfect monster cupcakes for Ryleigh’s birthday, you spent hours helping me paint my hot-ass, no-AC salon in the middle of June, and you left a date with a guy you really liked to come watch Ryleigh with, like, ten minutes’ notice. But every time I cut Josh’s hair, you insist on paying me even though I beg you not to. And you say that I’m the only person you trust—which by the way is something you should really unpack with your future therapist, God help him or her—but you didn’t tell me anything about the money stuff. Literally not one word. It’s like you understand how this friendship thing works, but only when it’s you helping other people, not letting other people help you.”

“West said the same thing,” Evie said softly, and she wondered if Josh hadn’t been saying it too.

“I know,” Kayla said. “I got the SparkNotes. Remember?”

“I don’t know why I do that. And I shouldn’t have been so angry at him when he was just trying to help. Of course he was, because he’s wonderful, and of course I got mad, because I suck.”

“You don’t suck. And you weren’t mad, at least not about the money. Not really. Have you ever heard the term ‘self-fulfilling prophecy’?”

For a second, Evie saw West standing on the field, saying the same words to the boys, who were so convinced they didn’t have a chance against Bend.

“You don’t want him to leave,” Kayla said. “So you just get angry. Pushing him away is a lot easier than telling him how you feel and facing the possibility he doesn’t feel the same way. You’ve done it enough times, I think we can officially start calling it ‘pulling an Evie.’ Rolls off the tongue, don’t you think?”

It was the most obvious thing in the world, how she’d behaved. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I forgive you. You’re hard to stay mad at. I think it’s the freckles.” Kayla gave her a long look and tilted her head in a seemingly random direction, but it wasn’t random, because it was toward West’s house. “Bet I’m not the only person who thinks that.”

Evie shook her head. Her stomach twisted into knots as the weight of what she’d done and said settled inside her. “All the things I said? And quitting? It’s too late.”

Kayla wrapped an arm around Evie, pulling her in so close, she caught a hint of the jasmine of Kayla’s shampoo. “What if it’s not?”

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

“Goddamn it,”Evie said as she tried to stretch her sourdough up to the ceiling, but it resisted, sticking to her hands in big globs that she suspected weren’t supposed to be so gooey. She’d floured her hands over and over, but nothing seemed to help, and so far, her lumpy dough looked like a wet, misshapen mess.

She’d started making it under the guise of it being an apology loaf, but if she were honest, it was probably also a way to delay the conversation she was dreading having. Not that she could have it. She had looked out the window every ten minutes all day, and West’s Jeep wasn’t there. She tried not to panic, wondering if he’d already gone back to LA, leaving her and Creek Water behind. Even though she hated the dough, she loved how much of a distraction it was. Her mind was so focused on making it work that it let her stop thinking about the other stuff, even just for a moment.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and her heart jumped, but disappointment crept in when she saw it was from her dad. Evie thought about not opening it, but curiosity got the better of her. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but when she saw the message, she knew that anything else wouldn’t have been him. It was a photo of him in front of green rolling hills, and the message just said, “halfway to north carolina, love u and josh.”

“You’re supposed to use a scraper,” Josh said.

“Jesus,” Evie said, the dough slipping out of her hands and slapping back into the bowl.

Josh was behind her, standing in the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Since when do you know how to make bread?”

Josh shrugged. “I watch a lot of videos of people baking on TikTok.” The admission was oddly touching, and Evie felt warmth spread through her. Her chest and throat tightened, like he’d hugged her even though he was far away from her. “Thanks. For giving me some space.”

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