Tangle (Dogwood Lane) - Adriana Locke Page 0,52

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.

She eyes me with the care of a woman who knows better. “A favor like a slice of leftover pizza? Or a favor like give my opinion of the poodle spa? How’s that coming, by the way?”

“Lovely.” I sigh at her attempt at redirection. “It’s a favor like . . . come to Nashville with me this weekend.”

Her eyes almost fall out of her head. I shift in my seat, worried I’ve overstepped.

“What did you just say?” she asks.

I clear my throat. “Come to Nashville with me. Please.”

She tears her eyes from mine and gazes into the distance. Her guard is up, and I want to yank it down and have the vulnerable, sweet Haley back. But the protective mode is on because of me, and I hate that.

Before I can say anything else, she gets to her feet.

“I’m not sure I understand,” she says. “You’re talking about the party that you told your ex-whatever to go to with a plus-one because you . . . you . . .”

“Look,” I say, getting to my feet, too, “I know this sounds stupid, but it’s not just about Liz.”

She crosses her arms in front of her. “Then what’s it about?”

“The retirement party is a big deal.” I say it like she should give a shit, like saying this should convince her right here and now to agree to go.

“What’s that have to do with me?” she asks.

She raises a brow, showing me a crack in her tough-girl veneer that gives me hope. And as much as I’m grateful for that, I’m also grateful to see her holding on to her guns for a minute. That will serve her well with guys like me. Just not with me. I hate it with me.

“You know how pathetic I am at eating on my own,” I say. “Don’t make me go to a party all by myself.”

She laughs. “It’s a party with your family.”

I reach for her out of instinct. She stills at the contact. My hand falls from her shoulder as I shrug, but I don’t miss the goose bumps on her skin as my fingers slowly drag down her silky-smooth arm.

She blushes. “Trevor, look . . .”

“I know. I know, I know, I know,” I say. “But I need a plus-one because I don’t want to go alone.”

“Take Liz.”

“You’re so funny,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

She laughs. “You’re afraid of Meredith, aren’t you? That’s the truth.”

“I’m terrified.” I stick out my bottom lip. “Just please go with me. I know this a huge thing to ask of you, but this is a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to whom?”

“To me.” I look her straight in the eye. “Please go. It’ll be fun. I promise.”

She paces the room, fidgeting with her hair. I want to scoop her up and kiss the shit out of her, and that

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