Page 60 of Melt With You

‘The color was discontinued in 1997,’ she said absent-mindedly. ‘Don’t hate me for saying this, but I would have come back in time for Romeo Red alone.’

Carefully, she repacked the items into her leather purse. The phone was the only thing missing.

‘Try to think back. Can you remember where you last had it?’

‘Well, it last rang when you sent me back in time.’ She glared at him again. She still felt a slight twinge of anger at what he’d done. Not that she wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to join him on this time-traveling adventure, but the way he’d gone about sending her back to the 80s still rankled her. Rowan gave her his wicked grin as if he could read her mind, then he stroked her hair off her forehead, and the anger melted away.

‘I might have put it down somewhere.’ She tried harder to remember. She’d set her purse on the dresser in her room, and … and … she raced up the stairs to look. Her room was the one place that had been nearly off limits during her return trip to her past. This was the one environment that had made her feel the strangest, so she’d spent the least amount of time here.

She hurried into the room, knowing ahead of time that the phone wouldn’t be there. Knowing in her heart what had happened, where it had gone to. Because that was the night when Dameron and Chelsea had broken in.

Dori sat down on the mattress.

‘Where is it?’ Rowan asked, a beat behind her. Now, he was looking around her room in wonder. She hadn’t let him in here. He stared at the posters on the walls, at the leopard-print bedspread, and then at Dori herself.

‘I think I know,’ she said, staring at her hands, wondering how much of a problem this would cause. ‘It’s not here. It’s with Dameron.’

Dori met him at the coffee shop. He looked defensive and rebellious, slinking into the café with an unlit cigarette in his hand, playing with the Marlboro during their entire conversation. He wouldn’t meet her eyes when he sat across from her, not even when she said, softly, ‘Come on, I know you have it.’

‘Why, because Dori thinks I’m a thief?’

He was. She’d known the truth back then, and she knew it now. But there was no time to argue. ‘Dameron …’

He shrugged and looked off down the length of the café.

She put out her hand. ‘Please.’

‘What are you? Some sort of spy or something?’

‘A spy,’ she repeated, laughing. In a way, she was. A spy from the future.

‘Cause the thing is pretty space-age,’ Dameron continued.

‘No. I’m just a make-up artist. But this is important to me. I won’t tell anyone. I swear. I won’t tell Chelsea.’

‘Or Violet,’ he spat out. ‘That girl has a mouth on her.’

‘Or Violet,’ Dori promised, thinking that Dameron had it wrong. Violet was loyal. It was Chelsea who had the mouth. Still, she watched hungrily as he reached into the side pocket of his coat.

‘Doesn’t work, anyway,’ he said, tossing the phone onto the table.

He’d thought it was a new hand-held game. It had been second nature of his to slide the phone into his jacket. Old habits. She wanted to tell him to straighten up. She wanted to give him words of advice. But all she could think to say was, ‘Don’t blow off the competition, okay? Go with Van.’

‘What’s so important about this one?’

Dori sighed. ‘Trust me. All right?’

He didn’t trust anyone. And why should he? But she hoped he could see the urgency in her eyes.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘Are you ready?’

She shook her head.

‘Why not?’

She hesitated, not sure he was going to like what she had to say. ‘I want to help Van. His band’s in a competition, and they leave tomorrow. If I remember right, the van blows up, with the instruments inside. With Van inside, as well. I told him to sleep at Bette’s tonight.’

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