Some Kind of Wonderful (Puffin Island 2)
“But how—?” Annoyance flickered inside her. “No, that isn’t possible. I told one person. Philip. He would never gossip.”
“Where were you when you told him?”
“We were standing in Main Street, but—” She stared at him and rolled her eyes. “Someone overheard? Who?”
“I have no idea, but everyone knows.” He waited a beat. “Everyone except me.”
Exasperated, she said, “Right. Well, I’m sorry you had to hear it that way. But yes, I’m leaving.”
“Why?”
She didn’t look at him. “I spoke to Philip. He told me that you’re staying. That you’re going to take responsibility for Camp Puffin alongside him. That you’re going to be there for him. And I think that’s wonderful.”
His shoulders were tense. “I don’t see what that has to do with you leaving.”
Finally she looked at him, unable to hide the hurt. “You didn’t share that with me, Zach! That’s the problem. All this time we’ve spent together, the things we’ve shared and done, but you still didn’t trust me with that.”
He drew in a breath. “There’s a reason for that.”
“I know. I know you find it hard. And I didn’t expect miracles, but I hoped that with enough love and patience you’d eventually understand that there are people who care about you and have your back and I’m leading the pack. I thought, maybe, that you would have shared some of that stuff with me.” Her voice sounded thick and she hoped desperately she’d get through to the end without crying.
“Brit—”
“I’m thrilled for you, Zach. I’m thrilled for Philip and Celia. But I can see now that no matter what I do or say, nothing is going to change for us. And maybe I was hoping for too much. I don’t just want great sex, I want trust and intimacy and all those things that scare you.”
“You really need to—”
“We’re still friends, Zach. We’ll always be friends. We can text, video chat and next time I’m home we’ll all get together, the six of us and it will be great. But I need a little time—” She shot him a smile that cost her every last shred of emotional energy she had and stooped to pull on her hiking boots, trying to hide the misery she was sure was stamped all over her face. “Call me whenever you like. I want to know what you’re doing. If it feels like pressure taking over from Philip, talk to me about it. And I’ll let you know next time I’m back on the island and you can fly me. I’ve developed a taste for private flying.” She lifted her backpack onto the chair. It weighed nothing, and it occurred to her that the heaviest thing she was carrying was her heart. It sat in her chest like a lump, pressing hard against her. Crap, she was turning into a sentimental idiot.
“You’re not leaving, Brit.”
“Yes, I am. My wrist is healing well and I—”
“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t do that.”
Confused, she glanced towards him. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you’d never leave a friend who needs you.”
She felt another wash of misery. “Em will be fine. She has Ryan and Lizzy.” She turned away and started packing her grandmother’s diaries into the box she’d found. “And Sky has a busy few months with her exhibition coming up.”
“I wasn’t talking about Emily or Skylar.” His voice was husky. “I was talking about me.”
She stilled. “We’ve had fun this summer, but you’ll be fine.”
“I won’t be fine if you leave. You’re my best friend, Brittany. I need you here.”
“I can’t, Zach—”
“I love you.”
Her heart pounded at her ribs, as if it was trying to escape. “You—”
“I love you.” He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands. “After everything we’ve shared the last few weeks, did you really think I didn’t?”
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“I thought you did, and I was hoping you’d say it but you didn’t—” she swallowed “—and instead you said it to Philip and Celia.”