Page 116 of Meant to Be

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to stay away from you, either,” I whisper.

“Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

Harley closes his eyes and exhales. The warmth of his breath feathers over my nose.

“You need to tell him.”

“I will.” I lean into his hand. “Soon.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been through this with you before, too,” I say. “The last time I took a gamble on you, it cost me everything.”

His eyes snap open, searching mine. “Josie, there’s a lot you don’t know about that night—”

“Hey Harley!”

I startle when Belle appears. Harley’s hand retracts from my cheek, falling to his side.

He nods at her in greeting.

“Are you with Brennon?” she asks.

“I was. He’s here somewhere.” He replies. “I’ll see you girls later, at the dinner thing.”

We meet eyes again as he steps back.

There’s a lot you don’t know about that night.

I feel a little dazed as we finish shopping. My mind is on a continuous loop, thinking back to the night, mulling over details and trying to understand what he meant.

Once back at the hotel, Belle and I share a bottle of champagne as we get ready for dinner. Tonight, our plan is to go out for dinner, and then split off into mini-groups for putt-putt golf. When we gathered in the lobby of the hotel, Shannon called out names of who is in what group for golf. I hid my face in embarrassment. It reallyislike we are on an excursion.

“In Group C,” Shannon continues. “We have Belle, Brennon, Harley, and Josie!”

Heads turn our way and I flush. Shannon insisted at the start that it was a random name generator that was sorting who into what groups, but I’m positive she made this one up. I can’t help notice that Group A consists of Shannon, John, Nick, and Jess. If Shannon was trying to send me a message, I received it loud and clear.

“Yay!” Belle claps, grinning widely. “The gang is all together.”

Nick’s eyes narrow at that and I avoid his gaze. I see him from my peripheral vision, coming towards me, so I push through the bodies and slip out the door. I gulp in the cool air, trying to settle my erratic heartbeat.

I’m not ready for our confrontation. Not here, not while we’re in this situation. I can’t help but think it might be inevitable. And that makes me feel like I’m going to throw up my lunch.

* * *

Thankfully, dinner goes by quickly. The chef made our dinner in front of us, making a dramatic show of it, flipping and throwing the food around expertly. It’s a performance I’ve seen many times, having lived in the city for a few years, but it had everyone who never left Fern Grove in awe.

“How was your dinner?” Belle asks the boys when we shuffle into our groups later in the evening.

“Pretty bloody good,” Brennon answers.

Harley passes out the putters. His fingers graze mine as he passes the last one over. I want to grab him by the face and kiss him. Everywhere.

“Is it big enough for you?”

“What?” I blink, feeling myself getting lost in those pretty blue eyes.