Crazy (The Gibson Boys 4)

My body is still buzzing from last night. My muscles ache, and some feel stretched. It’s a lovely feeling and would be even better if I could kick this mental silliness.

“Let’s think proactively,” Navie suggests. “What can you do to make yourself feel better about this? Besides talking to him, which I’m assuming you’ll do when you go home.”

“That’s the plan.”

“Okay. Good. Now let’s develop the rest of the plan.”

I rest my head on the chair and ponder my situation. If I boil it all down, the part that bothers me the most is being stuck there in a situation I don’t want to be in. If I didn’t live with him, I’d be more open into seeing where things could possibly go between us.

“I need to have another housing option in my pocket,” I say. “Speaking of which …” I set my tea down on the end table and slip my phone from my pocket.

“What are you doing?” Navie asks.

“Hang on.”

I open my text app and then scroll through my contacts until I find Joanie’s name.

Me: Hi, Joanie. It’s Dylan Snow. I was wondering if you found the information for the house we were discussing. I’m still very interested in it.

I look up to see Navie’s watching me.

“What?” I ask.

“What are you doing?” she repeats.

“Just seeing if Joanie, my boss at the bank, found any information on the house she knew about for rent.”

Navie’s lips twist. “I can’t argue your logic there. Maybe it would be better if you weren’t staying with him. I can see how that would muck stuff up.”

My stomach settles, and a calmness sweeps over me. It’s from the tea or the text or from discussing things with Navie. I don’t know which, but I do know I’m grateful to feel it.

“Okay. Now lunch?” I ask. “I really want to try the coffee cake at Carlson’s.”

“It’s the best. You should just buy the whole cake and eat the rest for breakfast. That’s what I do,” she says with a shrug. She glances at her watch. “Or we could grab something real quick and still make the movie.”

I nod.

Even though our decision is made, neither of us moves. I just sit and revel in the knowledge that I have Navie so close to me again. It feels so good to have someone in your corner.

The moment is broken when my phone buzzes in my head. I look down.

Mom: I called you a couple of days ago. Koty needs to borrow some money for Gia’s birthday party. She’ll be eight, if you didn’t remember. Could you send a check? A couple of hundred should be enough, I’d say. I told her you would.

I roll my eyes and turn my phone off. “Are you ready?”

“Yup. Let’s go.”

Twenty-Three

Dylan

The television is on. A sitcom I’ve never seen before plays out in front of me. It’s not really that interesting, and I don’t get the humor, but it’s enough of a distraction to warrant leaving on.

The movie Navie and I saw was great. The buttery, salty popcorn was even better. But now I’m home again. Alone.

I glance at my phone, but there’s no text from Peck. No missed call. No anything. I don’t know what to make of that. And even though Navie had my nerves mostly chilled out by the time I dropped her off at her apartment with a tub of leftover popcorn and a loaf of coffee cake, I’ve lost the chill. Now, I’m anxious.

What does his non-reply mean? Does he regret being with me? Does he regret the fact that I’m here?

I have no idea, and I wish I did.

Picking my phone off the coffee table, I re-read Joanie’s text. The information about the rental is in front of me. The name of the landlord, the fair asking price, the fact that it’s available now—all of it is right there, waiting on my move.

But I don’t know what move to make.

I want to stay here, but I know I should go. It’s a tough call to make when I have no help in making it.

The door opens and shuts. Peck’s footsteps scoff against the floor. I hold my breath as I watch his shadow stretch across the doorway. Then, finally, after what feels like an eternity, his handsome face comes around the corner.

He stutter-steps as he walks by. His hand grabs the doorframe, and he stops.

A mix of emotions crosses his face as he looks at me sitting on the couch. I fidget, unsure of what to say.

“Heya, Dylan,” he says. Slowly, his face breaks into a smile.

Relief courses through my veins as he enters the room.

“How was your day?” I ask. Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s nearly dinner time.

He walks straight over to me with a dose of hesitation in his eyes. Leaning down, he holds my face in his hands and presses a kiss to my lips.