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Their voices sound like they’re coming down a tunnel, and I know I’ve disconnected but I can’t help it. I smile when they do, but I don’t speak. Thankfully, they’re so involved in their conversation that I don’t think anyone notices, and I’m relieved.

Later—when Zac is driving us home, and I’m sitting in the back seat again with John—he leans closer to me.Too close.

“Can I get your number? Maybe we can talk sometime or grab a bite to eat.”

I stare forward, at the back of my brother’s head, dumbfounded.Do I want to give him my number? Talk? Eat?

“I… Me?” I stammer.

He smiles. “You don’t have be nervous, Holly. I’ve been your brother’s best friend since kindergarten.” His voice and his eyes are soft, sincere. Trustworthy. “I know what happened to you, and I’m so sorry. I helped look for you, in the search party.”

I look down at my hands in my lap, wishing he hadn’t brought that up. This is the first I’ve heard mention of a search party, which is actually a very ironic term. I wonder how much he knows, and if he would understand that his knowing about me makes me even more nervous.

“Thank you…”

“I’d love to get to know you better, take you to some of my favorite places. Get you out a little more.”

My hands shake, and my palms dampen. I’m not ready for this. I’m not sure I want to be known better by John. Or anyone. And I don’t want to get out any more than I already am. My smile is shaky and awkward. “I think I’d like to think about it. If that’s okay?”

“Sure it is.” He reaches behind him, pulls out his wallet, and takes a business card out of it. “Here’s my card. You can call or text anytime if you’d like to talk or go out. No strings or expectations, I promise.”

I take the card from him and slide it into my small purse, having no plans of adding him to my phone. I don’t want his number on my phone next to Ty’s. That feels wrong to me.

After Zac drops John off at his apartment, I breathe a sigh of relief and open the window a few inches to let some air into the car. I feel so suffocated I want to hang my head out the window like a dog.

“Holly…,” Zac says, looking at me in the rearview mirror. “Don’t be scared. John’s a really good guy. I trust him with my life. He thinks you’re sweet.”

I gulp.

“Who’s my sweet little girl?”

“He really is a nice guy,” Anna adds. “A real gentleman. And so handsome. I think he would be good for you to spend time with. Take it slow, one day at a time. He’s very understanding. Who knows what could happen.”

John might be nice, but his eyes are hazel, not blue.

He doesn’t wear soft faded jeans with holes at the knees with torn edges. Or leather jackets that smell like smoke and woods.

He doesn’t have pictures in his skin, a storybook for me to someday read.

And he doesn’t make my heart flutter.

He probably doesn’t even own a soft blanket.

He’s not prince material, and he never will be.

Everyone knows there can only be one prince, and I’ve already found mine.

CHAPTER 18

Tyler

Hey :-) You forget my picture, sugar?

A few minutes pass while I wait for her to reply, and I debate getting out of bed to go outside for a smoke to chill my nerves.

Holly

I couldn’t do it. It was a really nice place, and I didn’t see anyone else taking pictures of their food.