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After watching him descend, she turned to me. “Ro?”

I met Gran’s questioning gaze, grasping for excuses as to why Brody would leave my room so early on a Wednesday morning. “What? My lamp was flickering. It bothered me, and Brody offered to help.”

Her crepey brow furrowed. “In the daylight?”

My heart lurched. Perhaps I should book a course in creating more believable, feeble excuses. All I could do was nod and head back into the sanctuary of my room, Gran’s eyes hard on my back.

I shut the door and leaned against its cool wood surface, fighting the tears that pricked my eyes. The hot wash of guilt at my lie and the regret that crashed over me was everything I wanted to avoid. Based on the thudding of my chest, I’d made the right choice.

Quashing any idea of Brody and me together was the right thing to do, but until he left town, I’d be in absolute torment.

18

RO

Eve and I walked into town, my sneakers scuffing against the pavement. She chattered away at my side about the mechanical bull night coming up at the Crow Bar. Once she’d convinced me to attend, reluctantly, she moved on to musings on the town’s hot new chiropractor and whether she should apply for a second job as a receptionist at Wingspan, the new yoga studio. The idea of my crazy friend huffing and puffing while she aligned her chakras had me grinning. Eve was anything but Zen.

I dipped in and out of her words, more occupied with where Brody was and what he was doing. He’d honored my request and, based on my run-of-the-mill interactions with Coop, hadn’t said a word about the other night. Besides Gran returning from the store with new light bulbs and Brody completely avoiding me, life had returned to the status quo.

“Are you listening to me, Ro?”

I snapped my head toward Eve. She was holding up the latest edition of the Nosey Pecker, reading it out like a hammy actor.

“Sorry. I’m listening.”

“Good. I’ve hardly seen you these last few days.”

I sighed. She wasn’t wrong. I’d kept a low profile while I licked my Brody-shaped wounds.

“So apart from a hilarious review of Verona Morley’s nonsensical poetry and mime evening, the only other tidbit of interest is this little snippet about our mutual friend, the skating love god.”

My stomach lurched. Had Brody made it into the Nosey Pecker again? “Oh?” I asked, my voice wavering just a little.

Eve bounced along next to me. “Yes!” She cleared her throat and read aloud.

“Local hero down on his luck seen out with his glamorous young lady, yet again. Spotted deep in conversation and with more than a few looks exchanged, watch this space for updates. Who knows, love could be in the air.”

Eve turned to me, grinning. “Well, what do you think? Who could it be? I’ve heard no gossip in the diner. Maybe it’s someone from out of town. Apart from Lily Cooley or Wade Biddescombe, with all the pastel knits, I can’t think of anyone glamorous around here.”

A hot burn climbed up my chest. The young lady in the report had to be me. Were we spotted at The Easy Swallow? At Odd Duck’s gym? I’d hardly call my cheerleading outfit or skating gear glamorous, but this was Tuft Swallow, not Paris. As far as I knew, Brody hadn’t hung out with any other women while in town. He’d said few people even knew he was here.

“You know, I think whoever writes this has a bit of a crush on Flock,” Eve continued. “I mean, I can’t blame her.”

“Could be a man.”

She looked at me as if I’d found the cure for wrinkles. “That’s true. I never thought of that. Damn.”

“What?”

“That opens up a whole new group of people who could be responsible. One day, I’ll track the writer down, if only to shake their hand. Thank them for the hours of amusement. Particularly if the stories about your housemate keep coming.”

At another mention of Brody, I tried hard to smile. I really did. But as I trudged along rejector’s remorse had kicked in. I’d made my no-Brody-bed, and now I had to lie in it. Alone and miserable.

I reset my drooping shoulders, and Mrs. Woodcock rounded the corner in a flurry of turquoise nylon. A pair of shiny binoculars hung around her neck, and she clutched a collection of clipboards to her chest. She eyed us through her orange sun visor.

“Rowena. Eve. So lovely to see the youth of our town out and about, taking a little exercise.” As she spoke, Eve rolled her eyes and stuffed her copy of the Nosey Pecker into her bag.

Without waiting for a response, Mrs. Woodcock continued. “It’s a beautiful morning for a stroll. I’m just off to lead a guided bird-spotting session for some out-of-towners. There’s been a sighting of a Lesser-fluffed Kink Tit in the woods. It’s drummed up some interest among the bird community. There are a lot of ornithologists with a particular interest in tits.”