Page 78 of Truly

“Goodbye, Ms. Kelley.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Castelli.”

I grin as I hang up.

My phone slides across the table, coming to rest next to the bundle of rope that Luke used on me a few nights ago. My body clenches at the memory.

“We’re going to be fine, Luke,” I say to the empty room. “I need to make sure you know you belong in my world, and I need to make sure you understand how badly I want to be a part of yours.”

I run upstairs. I do my best thinking in the shower.

CHAPTER 24

Luke

“Hey, Megs,”I say, walking into Chase’s kitchen. “Smells good in here. What’s for breakfast?”

“You just missed Chase and Kennedy’s bacon and waffles. It was … a mess, if I’m honest.” She laughs. “But Kennedy saw it on Social and wanted to try it. They stuffed the waffles with bacon somehow. I don’t know. It was good, just super messy.”

“Where is Chase? I need to talk to him.”

“Is everything okay?”

My chest tightens. “It will be.”

“Okay. Well, he went outside a little while ago. I think he was trying to get out of doing the dishes.”

I laugh. “If you see him before I do, tell him I’m outside yelling for him.”

“Have a good day, Luke.”

“You, too, Megan.”

I step outside and look around for my brother.The bastard probably saw me coming and hid from me.

I walk to the back of the house and notice the open shed door. Chase comes out of it as I get close.

“Oh, hell,” he says, trying not to smile. “You meant it when you said you’d be here this morning. I was hoping you were drinking or something.”

“What are you working on?” I ask, nodding to a piece of wood in his hand.

“I’m trying to level a table Megan bought at a flea market last weekend. What about you? What are you working on?”

We walk side by side to a picnic table with a deep, almost purple table on top.

“Looks old,” I say.

“Megan says it’s an antique, but she thinks everything before the eighties is an antique. I told her the shops slap the wordantiqueon shit so people buy it for high prices and feel good about it.”

“And this is why I’m here.”

Chase gives me a look like our dad does when he doesn’t follow along.

I sigh. “I’m here for your asshole logic.”

“What?”

“This might sound bad,” I say, wincing. “But just hear me out and take the point of what I’m saying and not necessarily the words.”