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He glanced up from whatever he was looking at on his phone. “Nothing.”
“That’s a load of crap, Augustus.”
He closed his eyes, and his jaw twitched like he was gritting his teeth.
“Did something happen with you and Sebastian? You left the reception early and then you looked upset when you two came in for brunch this morning.”
“It’s not Sebastian.”
“Then what is it?”
“Just leave it alone, okay?”
“This isn’t like you. Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Just drop it.”
“But maybe I can help.”
“You can’t,” he snapped.
Her mouth fell open as he stood and disappeared down the hallway and into his room. The slam of his door made her jump. And that’s when it hit her that this wasn’t about his family at all. This was about the two of them.
She dropped into the nearest chair. Had she done something wrong? Maybe he regretted their kiss on the dance floor. Maybe he regretted all of this. Her eyes stung with tears, and she let them fall.
When their friendship had first formed, they had been able to talk about pretty much anything, and she thought it would always be that way. But obviously she’d been wrong since he’d clammed up on her so quickly. How could she make it right if he wouldn’t tell her what she’d done?
After sitting for a while in the silence, trying to keep her sniffling to a minimum so Gus wouldn’t hear, she made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water then went to sit outside. Staring at the pool only made her think of all the time she and Gus had spent there, and her heart ached with longing for him. The tears began to fill her eyes again. If only he would talk to her.
“Hey.” Gus’s voice startled her.
She turned to see him standing just outside the door, holding a water bottle, and quickly wiped a rogue tear away, hoping he wouldn’t see her puffy eyes in the dim light.
“Do you want one?” He tilted the bottle toward her.
She pointed at her glass. “I’m good.”
He took a few steps closer and looked up at the night sky but said nothing.
An excruciating minute passed with no communication.
“Don’t forget, I have that trip to London tomorrow night.” Merritt finally broke the silence.
“What time is that again?” he asked.
“It’s the red-eye.”
“Can you meet me on your lunch?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Sure.”
“Twelve-thirty. I’ll text you the address.”
“Okay.” She smiled over at him, hoping for more conversation, but all she got was a good night over his shoulder as he shuffled inside.
“Night.”
She reclined and looked up at the stars, praying that things would be better tomorrow. At least lunch together was a step in the right direction.