Page 65 of The Night
I jammed my hands into my jacket pockets and turned back toward the school.
“Hey!” The tourist guy, now holding a giant bouquet of red and white roses, darted across the street and waved at me again.
If the dude thought I was waving back, he had another think coming.
“Help you?” I was proud of myself for only growling slightly, but I didn’t stop or slow down.
“Yes!” He smiled with huge, white teeth that were a little too flawless to be anything but veneers. “I’m looking for a man.”
So many potential responses to that, like, “Oh, honey. Aren’t we all?”
Except… I wasn’t. I’d already found my man. I just had to make sure he actuallywasmy man.
“They have apps for that,” I told Mr. Veneers, deliberately misinterpreting him because it amused me.
We hit the edge of the school grounds and I kept walking, eager to find Hazel and get home. But when I took a deep breath, I had to admit I found the pine scent was actually kind of enjoyable. I would never,everunderstand why some people had a Santa obsession, but I could almost understand the fascination with decorated dead shrubbery, fire hazard or not.
“Notanyman, a specific one,” Veneers said, double-timing after me. “The woman in the flower shop wascompletelyunhelpful.”
I imagined “the woman” was Micah’s sister, who’d always struck me as a really nice—if somewhat aggressively perky—person. “Maybe because she doesn’t live in this town, and doesn’t know who you’re talking about? Or because her job is to sell flowers, not to find people? Or maybe because she has valid concerns about other people’s privacy and isn’t sure whether you’re a deranged stalker?”
“Gideon!” Angela waved from the register at the far end of the lot. “We have a tree! Come see.”
Thank God.I lifted a hand in acknowledgement.
“I’m not astalker.” From behind me, Veneers sounded massively affronted. “Youjust don’t havegoodcell service.”
I turned to look him up and down. He wore extremely tight navy-blue pants with thin rust-colored stripes, shiny brown shoes with pointy toes, a light-blue button-down shirt, and a rust-colored sweater. His hair was floppy in a way that looked casual but had probably taken thirty minutes and five products to achieve.
He was good-looking. Very. In fact, almosttoogood-looking… And wow.Shit. Now I kinda got what Hazel was saying about trees being too pretty.
“For the record,” I told Veneers, “if I was going to be a stalker, that’sexactlywhat I would wear and exactly what I would say.”
The guy’s face darkened and, yeah, sure enough, those good looks faded fast. “I have no idea what Liam was talking about.Friendly fictional town,my ass.”
I blinked. Had he said… Liam?
Before I’d managed to connect the dots, Hazel came running down the path toward me, her curls and her coat flying open behind her. “Gideon, I gottheperfect tree! Ifyouwere a tree, you would bethistree! Come see!”
Veneers turned, and when Hazel caught sight of him, she stopped.
“Scott?” Her face turned stormy. “What thefa la laare you doing here?”
“Hazel!” I said reflexively. “Language.” Then I realized what I was saying and shook my head. I was losing my mind.
So this was Scott.Liam’sScott.
My stomach churned in instinctive, possessive denial. Liam didn’tgetto have a Scott.Liamwasminethe same way I was his.
Except, you know… maybe he wasn’t. Not for the long haul.
“Why, hey there, Bug!” Scott said. “Your dad invited me to come visit. He knew I missed you guys, and he said I needed to see this town to believe it! So, here I am!” He sank into a crouch that I swear made his pants squeak and held out his arms like he was waiting for Hazel to run into them.
Instead, she folded her arms over her chest exactly like me and gave him a dead-eyed stare. “What did I tell you about calling me that name without permission?”
Scott’s smile slipped for half a second before he managed to steady it. He braced one hand on his knees to stand and clutched his flowers tighter. Then rolled his eyes at me. “Kids, huh?”
I frowned and once again deliberately misunderstood. “Mmm. They really do make the best judge of character.”