The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2) - Jamie Beck Page 0,14
and looked Logan dead in the eye. “Honestly? I’m team Claire.”
The fluorescent lights buzzing overhead disrupted Logan’s thoughts.
“Are we back in middle school?” He couldn’t keep the scorn from his voice.
Ben cracked his knuckles, then pulled Logan aside and spoke in a quiet but firm voice. “Understand something, Logan. Claire and I have lived in town together for the last decade while all of you ran away to live bigger, better lives. I hung out with Claire and Todd, and was there to pick up the pieces when he left. She’s like a sister to me, and I won’t hurt her by hanging out with Peyton until Claire is okay with that.”
Logan should respect the loyalty, but they’d all been friends for years. He was counting on friends to help him smooth the way with Claire, not to support her decision to freeze Peyton out. “Don’t you think Claire’s being a bit unreasonable now? My God, it’s been more than a year. Todd was a jerk, anyway. They’re both better off without him.”
“You don’t know jack shit.” Ben propped himself up against a shelf. “I know Peyton’s been through a lot these past six months, and she’s still got a tough road ahead, but eventually she’ll likely go back to traveling the world, charming the pants off folks, and living the high life.
“Claire will still be here with me, living with pain that never really goes away, self-conscious about her limp and limitations. I have no love lost for Todd, but she loved that guy, and when Peyton took him away, it broke Claire almost worse than that bullet. So don’t come back here now and act like it’s up to Claire to move on and get over her pain. She’s entitled to her anger, and she’s entitled to choose not to trust or forgive your sister. That’s Peyton’s fault, not Claire’s. And I’m not going to hurt a friend who’s been here with me all along just to make things easier for you or your sister. Sorry.”
Logan’s blood boiled like a steaming teakettle. This day had not gone according to plan. Not one bit. Claire had snubbed him, and now Ben was drawing his own line in the sand. “Well, I appreciate your honesty. Glad your sister doesn’t feel the same way. Guess this means we won’t be hanging out while I’m home.”
He spun on his heel and strode out of the store, but even in the midst of his righteous indignation, he couldn’t quite block out Ben’s words. “She loved that guy, and when Peyton took him away, it broke Claire almost worse than that bullet.”
It sucked to be stuck in the middle when someone he loved had done something so wrong. He didn’t always know what to do with his own feelings of disappointment and shame about Peyton’s choice. Still, he loved her. He had to help her atone, for all of their sakes.
When he reached his car, he glanced back at the store, letting the acid in his stomach settle. Two petty arguments with old friends in one day. A new record and another thing he’d have to fix.
Holding on to resentment wasn’t good for anyone. He didn’t have to look any further than his own hostility toward his dad to know that much.
Chapter Three
Connecticut Muffin’s blue-and-white-striped awning beckoned from the opposite side of the street. Claire told herself to walk past the shop, even as she found her feet ambling across the crosswalk. No chocolate croissant, no matter how flaky and sweet, would solve her problems. Those delicious five hundred calories would not convince Mrs. Brewster to change her mind and renovate her bathroom soon. Nor would the burst of pleasure soothe her stomach, which had been doing somersaults every day since that run-in with Logan.
Her eyes ached from the strain of searching for him and Peyton everywhere she went. This anxiety was exactly why she hadn’t wanted Peyton coming back to town to recuperate.
No amount of junk food or reality TV had driven away Logan’s disappointed words—worse, the disillusionment in his eyes when he’d said them. She’d scarcely slept for the way she replayed that conversation over and over, each time coming up with a better, classier, stronger means to have handled the unexpected run-in.
Next time she’d be prepared.
As she traversed a small opening in the plowed snow and neared the store, two women in yoga pants and Bean Boots walked out, carrying steaming to-go cups while chatting. In their wake, the aroma of