Page 241 of Burn Bright

“What happened?” She reaches the door. “Did they lock you out?” She’s a half-second from banging her fist to the wood. Actually, she does do that. “You smug Adonis knockoffs. Open up!”

“They’re not home.” My voice is hoarse. I notice the ice pack in her hand. “Holy shit, are you okay?” I croak out. Her ribcage is seriously bruised.

“What?” She’s confused, until she follows my gaze. A welt the size of a fucking dinner plate blemishes her golden-brown skin. Right below her crop top. “Oh, yeah. It hurts like hell, but I’d take a punch to the ribs over one to the face. Having your eye swollen shut is miserable.”

I crane my neck down the hall toward her older brother’s apartment where she lives. Wondering if I should dragheraway from some dude.

Joana sits down beside me, adjusting the ice pack. “I’m a professional boxer.”

That explains things. I nod.

She sweeps my face. “I take it you’re not a professional crier.”

“What gave me away?” I deadpan, smoothing out Son of Ben’s wet knotted fur. “The ugly tears?”

“If that was ugly crying, then the rest of us aregrotesque. And no, it’s because when I first met you, you had one of the best mean mugs I’ve ever seen. Not really crying material.”

“I am a professional mean mugger,” I murmur, tears trying to scald my eyes again.

“You’ll have to give me notes for when I’m in the ring.” Joana holds her legs loosely, but she tenses as her worry escalates. “I’m so down for silly-stringing their apartment. Writing some world-class Cobalt insults on their mirrors with lipstick. I will brainstorm all night. I bet we can piss off one of them, at least.”

So much emotion barrels back into me. “They didn’t do anything wrong.” I glance over at her. “But thanks.” My voice tries to rattle. “I’ve never really…” The honesty fades away. What I planned to say would be a weird confession to someone I barely know. I just feel so unzipped, undone, and she’s right here to witness my insides tumbling out, with no way to scoop them back in.

I could say,get it together, Harriet,but maybe it’s okay if I don’t this time.

“You’ve never really…?” she asks quietly.

“I’ve never really had many friends. Kind of by choice,” I whisper. “So when I moved to New York, I knew I’d only make maybe one, if that.” I twist the lion’s beaded necklace. “Then I befriended Ben, and he felt like a million friends in one, you know? Like he was…everything.” I bang my head back against the door. “And now he’s gone. And I’m not saying you’re my friend—obviously we’ve barely interacted, but your silly-string offer was nice. So thanks.”

“What’s your number?” She’s unpocketing her phone.

I give her a look. “You don’t have to take pity on me?—”

“I’ve wanted to hang out with you forweeks.There aren’t that many girls around our age in this building, and not to pat myself on the back too hard—I get alonggreatwith introverts. You can reject me a thousand times, and I won’t take offense or ever stop inviting you. I’ll just be excited for the times when you do appear.”

She makes friendship seem easy like Ben does…or did. I tell her my number. The blip of elation coming, then going.He’s not here.I’m making friends without him. Already moving on without him? It’s only been fuckinghours.

Joana sees my crushed expression. “The silly-string is always on the table. I’ll place an online delivery. Have it sent to the lobby asap.”

As fun as it’d be, I could never trash their apartment knowing Beckett has OCD. Given his extreme privacy and how much Ben cautioned me when he shared his brother’s medical history, I highly doubt Joana knows he does either.

“There’s nothing to retaliate,” I swallow hard, then I place the dried flower back into the letter with so much care. Refolding the paper, slipping it into my bookbag.

“Texted you my number.” She pockets her phone, then grabs her ice pack. “You said Ben is gone? Was this a breakup?”

“No, it’s…he’s missing, I guess—not kidnapped,” I add quickly. “It’s hopefully nothing serious.”Hopefully.I sit up higher at an encouraging thought. “Your older brother is Charlie’s bodyguard, right? Oscar Oliveira?”

“That’s him.”

“Would he tell you where Charlie is if you asked?”

“Oscar? Fuck no. He won’t even tell other bodyguards where he is when he’s protecting Charlie. I’m a world-renowned secret keeper, but my brother is on another level. It’s impressive.”

“Fuck,” I slam back into the door. “We can’t find Charlie. I thought maybe he’d help.”

“Charlie is king of the assholes, so don’t set your hopes on him.” She rises to her feet, then hesitates on leaving. “You’re waiting for the Cobalt brothers, aren’t you?”

I nod at the same time Beckett and Tom come bounding out of the elevator, and I jolt up beside Joana. She says a quick goodbye and “text me if you need anything” before walking backward to her apartment, then spinning fully around and vanishing.