Page 25 of Making New Plans

“Payback. You spied on me first, after all.”

It may have been the soft light, but her cheeks looked flushed. “That was an accident. You scared me on purpose.”

I shrugged then settled one shoulder into the doorframe. “Maybe.”

Her eyes narrowed, boring into mine. “What are you doing here? You seemed so eager to go to Wyatt’s.”

“I changed my mind.”

She smirked. “Meaning you didn’t want to go in the first place.”

I stiffened. “And you know me so well, is that it? Just like everyone else in town thinks they have me all figured out.” Wyatt’s and Carter’s faces hovered in my mind.

She squared her shoulders, her nose lifting in the air. “Well, you’re pretty convincing in your dislike of this town and people in general. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I took a step forward. The deeper warmth in the room caressed my cool skin. “You’re not wrong.”

Her smile grew wider then dropped when I continued.

“You’re not completely right either.” I kept moving toward her. “I’m trying really hard not to like a couple things here.”

I was close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look up at me with widened eyes.

“What do you mean?” Her husky voice seized something in my core.

I grabbed the armrests on either side of her and leaned down, making sure her gaze was fully latched onto mine. “I mean that no matter what I think of this place or the circumstances that led me here, I can’t bring myself to dislike you, too. And that’s very…very inconvenient.”

Her eyelashes fluttered over her cheeks when she closed her eyes for a moment. Then she murmured, “Well, I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time disliking me. It’s a goal of mine not to be disliked. In fact, if you look in my planner, you’ll see any number of personal goals centered around being likable and friendly and professional and—”

“Chloe.”

Her eyes opened.

“Do I make you nervous?” The corners of my mouth turned up a bit at the thought. And at her rosy cheeks and her fingers tucking strands of hair behind her ears.

“N-no. Except when you look at me like that.” She bit her lip, gripping the sides of her seat cushion as if to keep from touching me or like she might propel herself off it and escape.

I knew which one I preferred in that moment. “Chloe.” I whispered as I lowered my face closer to hers.

Her breathing was short and shallow. “For the love of all that’s holy, stop saying my name.”

A primal fire roared through my body. The chair creaked loudly as my grip tightened and I dipped her further back.

But then I paused. Common sense clashed against impulse.

Her next words solved my dilemma. “Are you drunk?”

I released the chair and stumbled backward, the warmth suddenly gone from the room. Icicles of disappointment crowded my chest. “No.”

She winced at the sudden harshness in my voice. “I just meant… I don’t know. I thought I smelled alcohol on your breath, and I didn’t want to—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I snapped. “Let’s just pretend this never happened. Agreed?”

She hesitated, her cerulean eyes searching mine. Whatever she saw, or didn’t see, made her nod. “Fine.”

Each word severed whatever thin bond had existed a few moments ago. She didn’t understand that her question made me think of my dad and how eventually I stopped even asking him that same question because I already knew the answer. Clearly, I couldn’t escape memories of my childhood if I continued to hang around Tangled River residents.

Folding my arms over my chest, I tried to keep my tone impassive. “I think training would be easier for both of us if we work separately. I learn better on my own anyway.”

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