Page 65 of Versions Of Us

“Henley,” he finishes.

I purse my lips and nod. It’s been almost a week since our last encounter but even though we haven’t spoken, I’ve caught glimpses of him disappearing into the tavern, his eyes finding mine across the street.

“Something is going on with him. I just can’t figure out what it is. And I know it’s not my place to even care anymore but…”

“But you do.” Chase finishes my sentence again.

“Yeah.” I sigh.

“You can’t help that. It’s who you are,” he says. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” I nod then open the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He holds a hand up in salute as I climb out of the car. “Oh, and hey, we need to finalise arrangements for the fundraiser.”

“Sure. We can talk about it tomorrow in between seminars,” I suggest.

“Sounds like a plan.”

I shut the car door, then give a wave as Chase drives off down the esplanade. I spare a glance across the street and find Henley watching from outside the tavern.

Even from here, I can see his jaw ticking. A sure sign that he doesn’t like what he’s seeing. He’s never been Chase’s biggest fan. I guess I can’t blame him considering Chase asked me out mere weeks after his disappearance.

The Haven is packed full of customers when I enter, and I instantly understand where the desperation in Carla’s voice came from when she phoned asking me to work today. I round the counter, pulling an apron from the pile on the shelf underneath.

“Hey, Kristen.” Carla whizzes past me, her arms laden with plates. “Table eighteen has been waiting for a while,” she calls back to me over her shoulder.

“On it,” I reassure her as I finish tying the apron around my waist.

I turn my attention to table eighteen and cringe inwardly when I see who occupies it.

Mackenzie sits by the window, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. She sees me notice her and drops her focus back to the phone in her hands. I know nothing about this girl that Henley has opened up his home to. And though we aren’t even together anymore, and he swears there’s nothing romantic between them, I’m jealous.

Plain and simply.

And that notion has me more confused than any of the things that Henley isn’t telling me.

There’s something oddly mystifying about Mackenzie, something about the way she closes herself off to the world. I can see why Henley would be drawn to helping her, because in a lot of ways he is the same.

And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t lie in bed tossing and turning last night, dreaming up as many innocent possibilities for why Henley was hugging her outside the tavern yesterday. I’m sure neither of them were aware that I could see their interaction from inside the cafe. Watching him take her into his strong tattooed arms, her cheek pressed against his chest.

It had ruined me.

The only thought running through my mind after seeing them together was who the hell is this girl that has stepped into my place? Because I used to be the only one enclosed in Henley’s arms.

I equip myself with a notepad and pen and move toward Mackenzie’s table.

“Mackenzie,” I say, probably a little too sternly. “What brings you here?”

“Hi, Kristen.” Hearing her address me by name throws me off guard. There’s something eerily familiar about the way she pronounces it, the way the ‘K’ seemed to get stuck in her throat. “Could I just get a caramel latte?”

“Sure. Anything else?” I say robotically.

“Um, yeah. I just wanted to say how sorry I am about last week. I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys. I honestly had no idea you were there.” She rushes through her words, barely taking a breath. “Believe me if I’d known I would have stayed away.”

Her hand gestures and the sarcasm in her tone indicate a level of disgust, as though seeing Henley making out with someone is the last thing she’d want to see.

“Why are you staying with Henley?” I ask, my eyes narrowing as I cross my arms over my chest.

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