Page 62 of Yours, Always

“I just saw him yesterday,” Devlin added. “He completely lit up when I asked about you.”

Annabelle picked up her buzzing phone. “He’s calling. Again.”

Prudence thought. She thought of how wrong this all felt—of the last five days of pure happiness. Of how she’d never felt so complete. She thought until her head was pounding and her mind couldn’t form anything remotely coherent anymore. She looked around at her two friends, who sat there in silence while she processed. “I need a night. Just give me a night.”

Devlin and Annabelle exchanged a quick nod. “Done.” Annabelle pushed ignore on her phone once more.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Prudence awoke early Saturday morning when Annabelle’s alarm went off. They’d slept on the pull-out couch in Devlin’s loft, a bar sticking into her back the whole night. She was miserable and only had herself to blame. Her face was red and puffy from crying when she looked in the bathroom mirror, taking a rag and running it under cold water. She sat on the toilet seat and laid the rag over her eyes, not wanting to go back into the other room. Not wanting them to tell her she’d made a big mistake.

It was so clear to her now. Greyson had come home to research his next big role, living the part that she’d seen written in the pages of that damn manuscript. The actor, going back to his small town to win his old flame. He’d told her the script Nadia had sent was a comedy but the one she’d read was pure romance. And who better to play his romantic lead than his current fling, Samantha Crane. She’d seen the pictures of them in L.A., the red carpet was undeniable. Plus, he didn’t tell her about their lunch. If there was nothing going on between them, why hadn’t he told her? She couldn’t help herself from questioning if there was more.

She pulled the rag off and splashed freezing water on her face, staring at her reflection, replaying it all for the millionth time. She was sure Greyson had gotten caught up in the role he was playing and why not have some action on the side? It could be more research, see exactly how the small-town girl really reacts. In the back recesses of her heart, she felt that he hadn’t been faking the whole thing, but the proof was right there, in black and white.

She huffed out a breath, squared her shoulders and walked back into the living room. Annabelle and Devlin were sitting at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee in their hands. A third one was in front of an empty chair, so she sat in it. It was all false bravado, though. She didn’t want to face them.

Annabelle made the decision for her when she reached over and tilted Prudence’s chin up. “You have to talk to him, Pru. He’s sick with worry that you didn’t come home last night.”

“Home? He’s at my house? Where does he get the nerve to think he should stay at my place, that double-crossing ass—”

“Hey.” Annabelle’s voice rose, cutting her off. “When have you ever known Greyson to do anything like this, to hurt anyone? He’s the best guy we know, other than Gabe, and I think you really need to hear him out.”

Prudence glanced at Devlin who nodded her agreement with Annabelle. Well. This was not how she’d expected the conversation to go. Where were the girl-power, down with men, life-affirming talks? “You guys have already discussed this?”

“I’m sorry, Pru. I agree with Annabelle,” Devlin said, but with a small smile perhaps to take away the sting of the words.

Prudence looked back and forth between the two of them, then buried her head in her hands. “But she repeated to him the exact words he said to me the night of his concussion. Words that came from that script!” Her eyes widened. “It’s exactly what the gossip magazines say. That he has multiple women all pining after him, stringing them along. I always defended him when people said they couldn’t believe he was really like that. I defended him and said he’d never do any of the things written about him, that they had it all wrong. But maybe I was wrong. People change with distance. Maybe a weekend here and there isn’t enough.” She stopped, out of breath from her ranting.

Annabelle appeared shocked. “You’ve always been Greyson’s biggest champion, the one who would defend him to anyone who said anything negative about him.”

“He went too far this time.”

“This time? I can see how he is with you and that isn’t an act.

“It’sallan act, that script is proof!”

“I wish I’d never brought over that damned script last night,” Annabelle groused.

“You gave me exactly what I needed to think about this clearly.”

Annabelle casually pulled out her cell phone while Prudence was occupied at the counter getting another cup of coffee, tapped her screen while muttering, “It’s time for my jaded ass to save love, once again.”

“What did you say, AB?”

“Pru.” Annabelle locked her screen and set her phone on the table. “The parade starts in an hour, and I need to get there soon. Devlin has to go to her shop and help out before the parade.” Devlin, who had been silent for most of this exchange, nodded in agreement. “Why don’t you come with me while I take pictures,” she stated.

Prudence moaned. “Do I have to?”

Annabelle stood and said one word that left no room for arguments. “Yes.”

* * * *

Greyson sat in Prudence’s bed, alone. He could smell her, as if she were here with him. He tapped at his phone screen for the hundredth time, having not received anything from Prudence, whose phone had been turned off since last night, and only one text message from Annabelle late last night that read,

Chin up. I’ll see what I can do.

It was the only reason he’d slept at all. He flashed back to last night, his surprise at seeing Samantha Crane in Amber Falls.