Tangle (Dogwood Lane 2) - Page 48

I hope.

I angle my head from side to side as I head into Dogwood Lane, trying to work some of the tension out. The back of my neck feels like a rubber band has been stretched through it and someone is pulling it taut. The pain is irritating and only adds to my discomfort about this whole day.

Lorene fixed me a breakfast of bacon and eggs, even though breakfast isn’t included with the room. I made sure to fix her leaky faucet in the kitchen while she prepped the meal. I’ve enjoyed chatting with her over the last few days, but today I just wanted to get out of there and take care of business.

I stop at an intersection and wait for a school bus. I fire a text to Jake with my idea and answer a few questions we left unresolved after I got back from Haley’s last night. The messages go through, and I toss my phone out of my reach and wait for it.

One. Two. Thr—I don’t get to “three” before the phone rings with as many unread messages. Like a firing squad, they come in so quickly I know any peace I had with Jake is dead. He’ll use one of those texts to fire me up for the foreseeable future.

I hate the line Haley’s drawn. Her stupid refusal to let me touch her or treat her the way I want to is maddening, and I’m not sure if I like her despite, or because of, it.

I drive up her street, swerving around the dog that doesn’t appear to have moved since last night. He blinks, so he’s alive but apparently really comfortable in the middle of the road.

The sun sits high in the sky, almost directly overhead. My fingers tap a beat against the steering wheel as I pull up to Haley’s.

I don’t want to feel this desperate. I’ve not wanted to do something I know I shouldn’t like this for a long time.

I’ve clearly lost my damn mind.

As if my brain has taken control and put me on autopilot, I shut off the truck. Open the door. Get out and lock it behind me. Before I know it, I’m ringing Haley’s doorbell with a flood of excitement hitting my veins.

“I’m coming,” she hollers from inside the house.

I shove my hands in my pockets and wait for the door to swing open. When it does, I’m glad I’m not able to reach for her.

A pair of short shorts barely covers her legs, and a white tank top stretches across her breasts. I realize I’ve never seen her this stripped down. What I came here for? It’s gone. No clue.

“Hey,” she says, pulling her brows together. “What are you doing here?”

“Um . . .”

“We didn’t discuss dinner, and assuming is against the rules. But even if I do agree to spare you a meal alone, it’s like noon.”

I nod like a freaking idiot.

She leans her head against the door. “Trevor? Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah. For sure.” I clear my throat. “I just came by to talk to you.”

She steps back and opens the door. Surprise is written across her beautiful face. “Okay. Come on in.”

The house smells like blueberries as I enter. I give her a quizzical look.

“I baked muffins this morning,” she says as if she knows the question. “It was Story Hour at the library, and the kids always ask for my muffins.” She shrugs. “I’m a sucker.”

“That’s really nice of you,” I say.

“Even mean girls have their moments.” She tosses me a wink. “So what brings you by in the daylight?”

I take a deep breath and head to the living room. The space is familiar and cozy, and without being asked, I sit on the sofa like I belong there. She sits beside me.

I give myself one more chance to come to my senses and stop this madness. While this idea may seem perfectly fine on paper, it’s not.

I know this.

I feel this.

I can’t help this.

All I can do is ask and then act like an adult either way.

Clearing my throat, I rest my elbows on my knees. “I want to ask you something.”

“You’re needy. You know that?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You and your not wanting to eat alone. Need for fancy foods that are extremely overpriced. Need to show up unexpectedly with a question and not just call like normal people.” She starts to laugh but stops when I fail to join. “What’s going on, Trevor?”

“Well,” I say, wincing, “I’m here to break another rule.”

“Oh, geez,” she says. “Here we go. What now?”

She looks so sweet with her hair piled on top of her head and her lips tinted blue from the berries. If I go through with this, I’m going to have a hell of a time behaving myself.

But can I?

I hope so.

“I need a favor.” I look at her solemnly.

Tags: Adriana Locke Dogwood Lane Romance
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