my best friend just a little longer. Call me a coward, but I needed the facts first. Maybe Blakely just went for a drive. “Let’s call Rose and drive around. I’m sure we’ll find her. Is her car still parked?”
“No. Her car is gone. Shit, Decker, what if I fucked this all up? I can’t lose her…”
“Stop. We’ll find her, okay?” I walked over to brace my hands on my best friend’s shoulders, forcing him to stand still for a moment and look me in the eye. “We will find her and drag her back kicking and screaming if we have to,” I promised. I wasn’t sure if my steel determination was because I wanted to be a supportive friend or because I’d developed my own infatuation with Blakely. It was probably both. Fuck.
I felt like the worst person ever. This was so wrong. One life-altering kiss, and I’d ruined everything. I knew I would never be the same after her pink lips touched mine, but I hadn’t expected my life to crash and burn so quickly.
I laced up my tennis shoes and put on a shirt before jogging after Lance to the parking garage for his Land Rover. If she was in her car, we would need to cover more ground. “Should we take two cars?” Lance asked. We probably should, but I knew how Lance got when he was stressed. His entire body would shake, and he couldn’t focus on one thing long enough to handle his business. It’s why we worked so well together.
He was vibrant and erratic in chaos, like the ocean. I was the mountain. Tall, proud, and unmovable. When he’d saved my life, he jumped on impulse. I was busy trying to calculate the odds of our survival.
“No. Let’s ride together. It might take both of us to bring her back,” I replied.
“Right. Right. Okay, cool, cool, cool,” Lance said, his fingers shaking as he started the car.
I dialed Rose’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. “Hey, Rose, Blakely ran off. If you see her, can you call me please? Thanks.”
“Why do you think she left?” Lance asked as I hung up the phone. We drove slowly down the nearly empty street, eyeing every late-night pedestrian and homeless person sleeping on the street with unease. “I am totally putting a tracker on her phone after this.” It’s like he was reading my mind. It didn’t seem like enough, though. Maybe we should put a video camera by the door, too. Motion sensors. A guard dog. I gritted my teeth. How could she just leave? Why?
“It could be nothing. Maybe she was craving ice cream or something. Girls are weird,” I lied. Lance could always tell when I was lying. He knew all my secrets. All my shame. All my regrets. It’s why I felt so conflicted about keeping my kiss with Blakely from him. What the fuck was wrong with me? A lifetime of friendship for one girl I didn’t even know? My cock and I needed to have a serious conversation about keeping shit in check.
“Don’t say shit just to placate me. Think.”
“I-I don’t know,” I lied again. He eyed me.
“Did she say anything at the carnival? She seemed like she was having fun.” My best friend looked on the edge of a breakdown. I watched him grip the steering wheel, his eyes wild and frantic as he looked back and forth on the dark Memphis streets. I debated offering to drive, but he would have taken it personally. Lance needed to feel like he was doing something. He was a fixer.
“Look, I need to tell you something,” I whispered before settling in my seat. Blakely might kill me, but Lance deserved the truth—or at least the amount of truth I was willing to give him.
“Blakely’s mom wasn’t very good to her. She tells you the fluffy shit because she wants you to have something good to hold onto, but man, she’s been through some fucked up stuff.” We both let my statement permeate the air for a moment, weighing us both down. I breathed in once. Twice. Blakely didn’t want Lance knowing just how bad it was, but maybe it wasn’t her call to make.
“I got that impression,” Lance gritted before turning right on a street and parking. Leaning forward, he braced his head against his hands, and I watched him take in deep breaths before speaking again. Was this how he was when he saved my life? Shaky but determined?