Page 68

I read the words over and over again. A knot forms in the pit of my stomach as my body becomes filled with dread.

Nothing good ever comes from “we want to talk.” Those words are loaded with the promise of impending doom, of relationships crumbling and hearts breaking. I’ve heard them before from ex-lovers and fair-weather friends, always followed by a litany of reasons why I’m not enough.

But this is Charlie and Daniel. The two people who have shown me more acceptance and kindness than anyone else in my life. Surely, they wouldn’t invite me over simply to cast me aside.Would they?

I sit up in bed and run a hand through my messy hair as I try to make sense of it all. The rain continues to patter against the windows in a steady rhythm that does little to soothe my frayed nerves. If anything, the relentless thumping makes my heart beat faster.

My mind runs through a plethora of scenarios, each more heartbreaking than the last. Have they finally realized that I don’t belong in their world, that there’s no place among Ashford’s elite for a graffiti artist?

I close my eyes and push the frightening thoughts aside. Charlie and Daniel aren’t the type of people who toy with people’s emotions. But still, the fear lingers, cold and persistent.

I rattleoff the address Daniel sent—fumbling slightly—to the taxi driver. The sound of the tires splashing through puddles accompanies me as I sink back into the cracked leather seat and watch the rain-slicked city blur past the window.

My thoughts are a chaotic mess, echoing the city’s franticpace.What if I’m walking into a trap? Is this the end of whatever connection we had?

The cab weaves through traffic, jostling me from side to side. We stop and start, the rhythm doing nothing to put me at ease. I try to distract myself by watching people hurry along the sidewalks, umbrellas clashing against each other, but it doesn’t help.

With each block we pass, the knot in my gut tightens. By the time the driver pulls up in front of Charlie and Daniel’s brownstone, I’m ready to vomit.

I pay the fare and step out onto the curb. The rain turns me into a drowned rat as I stand there, staring up at the imposing façade of their home. The building is pristine, and the wrought-iron railings gleam, even in the dreary weather. It screams of old money and privilege.

I climb the steps to the front door and press the doorbell. The chime echoes distantly. Seconds turn to minutes as I wait, shifting from foot to foot, my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my hoodie.

Charlie’s beaming face greets me when the door swings open. His chestnut-brown eyes shine as they travel down my body, taking in my casual attire.

“H! You made it.” His voice is as bright and cheerful as ever, and I sigh with relief.If Charlie’s smiling, then it can’t be bad, right?He steps to the side and gestures for me to come in. “We were starting to worry you got lost in the rain.”

I cross the threshold and follow him down the hallway. The hardwood floor creaks beneath our feet. He’s barefoot while my shoes leave wet footprints in my wake. I cringe, knowing how easily water can damage wood. I should’ve taken them off. Too late now, I guess.

We emerge into a spacious living room, where Daniel is sprawled on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He’s barefoot, too, and suddenly, I feel woefully overdressed. He looks up as we enter, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” he drawls, hisvoice dripping with amusement. “I thought you were going to leave us high and dry, Price.”

I shrug nonchalantly, even as my insides churn. “And miss out on the chance ‘to talk?’ Never.”

Daniel pats the space beside him on the couch. “Take a load off, Price. We don’t bite…unless you want us to.”

I gulp audibly and perch myself on the edge of the cushion, not wanting to ruin the furniture with my wet clothes.

“I’ll grab us some beers,” Charlie calls out on his way to the kitchen.

I open my mouth to protest, knowing that alcohol will only make the nausea worse, but his head is in the fridge before I can get a word out. I sigh and lean back, forcing myself to relax. It’s just Charlie and Daniel. My friends. My…crushes?

Daniel shifts beside me and inadvertently brushes his thigh against mine. The contact makes me flinch.

He’s close. Too close. So close that I can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

Charlie returns with three bottles of beer. The labels boast hints of citrus and pine. He hands one to Daniel and offers another to me. I shake my head, mumbling something about not being much of a drinker. Charlie shrugs and sets the bottle on the coffee table, just in case, before plopping down in the recliner across from us.

He pops the footrest out and wiggles his toes. A contented sigh escapes his lips. “Much better. Nothing like kicking back with a cold one and good company, eh?”

I nod, smiling weakly. My nerves are still on high alert, and my body thrums with a mix of anticipation and dread.

Daniel’s hand lands on my knee, and I flinch again, startled by the sudden contact. He chuckles and squeezes gently. “Relax, Harrison. You’re safe here.”

Am I?

Charlie laughs. “Yeah, man. We just wanted to hang out, you know? Catch up and stuff. It’s been awhile.”