Page 39 of See It Through
I shook my shoulders and arms out, flexing my hands. “Feels like I could. The question is: do I want to? And that, I do not know.”
“Hmmm. You ever find a place that fit you better?”
“That wasn’t what I was looking for, Cay.”
He made a rumbling sound and turned to me, his arms crossed over his thick chest. “And that wasn’t what I asked.”
The places I’d called home base over the years flashed across my brain like a slideshow: Chicago, Prague, New York, Seoul. Cities I’d liked, had spent months at a time, formed friendships, relationships, a life in, but I couldn’t say any part of me missed them, and I’d sure as hell never stopped to wonder how I’d weave through those particular tapestries.
“No. Never found it,” I admitted.
He clapped me on the shoulder. “That makes me sad for you, Rem. Maybe it’s time.”
I sucked in a deep breath, the scent of home filling my lungs from corner to corner. When I exhaled, it felt like losing something. “Maybe it is.”
Chapter Eighteen
Hannah
My week of avoidingRemington had come to an end the night at my parents’ house. After that, he kept popping up everywhere I went. Had he not seemed as surprised as I was, I would have suspected he was following me. Our carts had collided in the grocery store. I’d almost run him over while he’d been crossing Main Street. He’d been walking out of the house as I’d climbed the porch steps at Sugar Rush for an afternoon caffeine fix.
Sugar Brush was a small town. Running into people was inevitable. But my run-ins with Remington had exceeded the norm. Tonight, it was happening again at Joy’s Elbow Room, and I was beginning to think some nefarious force was pushing us to be at the same place at the same time.
Cormac was running late for our pool date, so I parked myself at the bar, sipping on a Shirley Temple. Running the length of the bar was a mirror, reflecting the action going on behind me, distorted and somewhat warped as it was.
I hadn’t noticed the table for four when I’d arrived, but once I found the group in the mirror, I couldn’t stop watching.
Tina, Teller, and her husband, Brady, were sharing a table with Remington. I couldn’t quite read Remi’s expression, but his folded arms and tilted body read like a man who would have rather been anywhere else.
Oh, if they were reciting poetry to him, I would need to be carted away since I’d be laughing too hard to stand. I was already snickering into my drink at the very idea.
“What’s so funny, Banana?”
I grinned at my baby brother. For once, he was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans instead of his ubiquitous suit and actually looked his age.
I patted his scruffy cheeks. “You’re late. I had to start the party without you.”
He took a sip of my drink and smacked his lips. “Not spiked. Doesn’t explain why you’re sitting by yourself, cracking up like a lunatic.”
I yanked my glass from his hand and slammed it on the bar. “Of course there’s no alcohol, Maccie. I’m pretty damn insulted you had to check.”
He grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me off my stool and into his side. “I’m just teasing you, Han. I know you’re not drinking.”
Alcohol and I didn’t mix. Since it had led me to make destructive choices one too many times, I’d given it up before I was even legal to drink. I had plenty of vices and habits, but that wasn’t one of them.
“I don’t like that kind of teasing.” I shrugged him off. “I’d ask for an apology, but I’ll just kick your ass at the pool table instead.”
Drink in hand, I led the way to the back of the bar, making sure to weave past Remi’s table. As we drew near, Tina’s voice rose above the music and din of conversation.
“His tender heir might bear his memory,” she recited somberly, one hand raised in front of her, shaking with each word, “but thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, feed’st thy light’st flame with self-substantial fuel…”
For one fleeting moment, I met Remi’s panicked gaze, and I couldn’t stop myself from barking out a laugh so loud everyone around us turned to look. Poor Tina lost her spot in the poem, her hand hanging impotently as she scanned the printout in her lap.
“What’s happening?” Cormac muttered from behind me. “Why’re Double T reciting Shakespeare? Is this hell?”
I lost it, cracking up so hard my brother had to take my drink from me so I wouldn’t spill it. With the back of my shirt gripped in his fist, he guided me like a naughty puppy to the rear of the bar, away from Sugar Brush’s version of the Globe Theatre. I could practically feel the eye daggers Tina and Teller were throwing at me and hid behind a post until I could get a hold of myself. Luckily, it was the middle of the week. Joy’s wasn’t packed, but Kayla from the grocery store and her boyfriend Brian were at the next pool table over, casting plenty of side-eyes my way.
Mac stared at me, the corner of his mouth hitched. “Something tells me you’ve been up to no good.”