Page 17 of Somehow You Knew

I blink at the screen.That’s it? No snarky comeback?

Me:I can meet up tomorrow morning. I have photo shoots the rest of the week.

Hummingbird Guy:Tomorrow morning it is then.Meet me at Keely’s Caffeine Kick at eight. Don’t be late.

I roll my eyes.

Me:Says the guy who kept us waiting today.

Hummingbird Guy:Don’t worry, Spitfire. That was just a fluke. You’ll learn soon enough.

It almost sounds like he’s daring me to stick around long enough to find out just how wrong my assumptions about him are.

Which could only mean one thing—he’s not as dead set against this as I thought.

I guess I’ll find out tomorrow just how much convincing he really needs.

Chapter four

Gage

Unlocking the front door to my aunt’s house feels surreal, knowing she’s not on the other side. Grief slams into me—regret and remorse for not being here in her final days, wishing I could have visited her one more time before she passed.

I know she understood. She knew I would have been here if I could, if the doctors had let me. But it doesn’t make it sting any less.

I walk further into the house, tossing my keys on the kitchen counter as I look around. The place looks the same as the last time I was here—the familiar stack of books on the coffee table that she’d read through faster than anyone I know, the coffee mug placed right by the coffee pot like she does every night, and her plants in the window, their leaves drooping since she’s not here to water them.

She’s gone.

She’s really fucking gone.

I officially have no family left.

I’m completely alone.

Isn’t that what you wanted, Gage?

Thewind chimes on her back patio ring out as a breeze passes through. I want to believe that’s her, somehow sending me a sign that I’m not alone. As I swipe under my eyes, I remind myself that her presence still remains in other ways—like the stipulation in her will that ties me to Hazel Sheppard.

I glance around the room, gathering myself and wondering how the hell to even start this process. After Hazel left Timothy’s office, he told me my aunt’s other request—to prepare her house for sale. The proceeds were to be donated to the Carrington Cove Veteran’s Center in honor of Hazel’s dad.

“Does she know that?” I ask Timothy as he clasps his hands over his chest.

“Not yet. It was one last thing Diane wanted to do to thank her for her friendship.”

Hazel.

Fuck.

Seeing her again just piled onto the stress of this entire trip—not only because our interaction last year has played on a loop in my mind more times than I care to admit, but because my aunt has entangled us in a way neither of us could have predicted. A marriage. A small fortune hanging in the balance. And the insane part? I’m actually considering it.

Not only did I not know my aunt was that wealthy, but I never thought she’d be capable of something like this—something so calculated and manipulative.

It’s like she knew that kind of money would be the one thing to make me consider something I swore off two years ago when I realized letting someone fall in love with me would be the greatest mistake of my life—and theirs.

Besides, my aunt has told me about Hazel—about her heart, her passion for life.

Aunt Diane never showed me a picture of her, and I never bothered to look her up online. I knew my aunt was delusional if she thought I’d upend my life in Florida to move here for a woman, so I never gave Hazel Sheppard much thought. As far as I knew, she was a photographer, my age, and someone my aunt cherished. That was it.