as she pulled out her cell phone to give Claire a call, the door swung open. Claire stared at her blankly for a moment, and then stepped back, allowing Annabelle access to the house. Annabelle waved goodbye to Trevor, still waiting in the car. He waved back and pulled away from the curb, driving off.
Annabelle braced herself for Claire’s anger, but the blonde’s features had shifted into a satisfied smirk. “Take it things went well?” she asked impishly.
She knew what Claire meant, but she tried to play dumb. “He asked if he could take me to see a movie sometime.”
Claire grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Of course he did,” she confirmed. “He’d have to be an idiot not to see how amazing you are.”
Annabelle flashed an embarrassed smile. “I’m glad you guys got out okay,” Annabelle told her. “I was worried. I couldn’t find you.”
“Oh, we were fine,” Claire assured her. “Claudia and Zach are upstairs in one of the guest rooms. You can sleep in any of the open ones. I need to get back to… my guest.”
Annabelle felt sick at the implication, but she reminded herself that beggars couldn’t be choosers. She climbed the steps behind Claire, who wiggled her fingers goodbye as she went into her bedroom and shut the door. Annabelle turned down the hall to the guest rooms, chose an open door at the end of the hall and went in, shutting it behind her.
Chapter Four
Annabelle put the bookmark in her book when she heard the knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.
Her mother’s head poked in, a smile curling her lips. “Trevor is here,” she said. “He’s waiting in the game room.”
Annabelle all-but leapt up from her bed. “How do I look?” she asked quietly, hurriedly, even as she leaned down to look at herself in the vanity. She had felt terrible all day after her horrible night—depressed, irritable, and cranky—and hadn’t bothered getting dressed. She yanked her hair out of her ponytail, shaking it out, and looked down at her jeans and t-shirt. She dashed over to her drawers and quickly pulled out a tighter, cuter top, tossing her t-shirt aside. She pulled the new shirt on over her head and presented herself desperately to her mother.
“You’re beautiful,” Susan assured her. Annabelle smiled at her, then quickly hurried down the stairs, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to slow down as she entered the game room.
“Hi,” Annabelle greeted breathlessly. Trevor turned from studying one of the pictures on the wall to face her, looking startled. Then his face broke out into the warm, friendly grin that she loved.
“Hi,” he returned, stepping toward her. He paused, lowering his voice. “How’re you feeling?”
She smiled weakly, embarrassed. “I’m… okay. Humiliated, but okay.” She gestured to the couch and he sat down. She followed suit, giddy at the close proximity of him. “I want to thank you so much for looking out for me last night.”
He immediately shook his head. “I didn’t do anything. You did good taking care of yourself.”
She knew it wasn’t true, but she was grateful to him for saying so. She fidgeted nervously, then picked up the remote to the TV. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked. “Or we could play pool.” She gestured to the pool table behind them.
He grinned. “Sure. Are you a pool shark?”
She laughed. “Not at all. I’m pretty terrible, actually.” She stood and led the way to the wall of pool cues, selected one, and went to go rack up the balls while he selected a cue stick.
“Do you want some music?” she asked, all-too-aware of the silence.
He looked around, then joined her at the table. “Why don’t I do that?” he suggested, picking up one of the balls to illustrate his point. “You can set up the music.”
She smiled, trying to hold her pleasure in, and nodded, picking up the remote for the stereo from the coffee table. She scanned through the stations until she found the one that had playing in his car the night before, and light jazz music filtered through the speakers.
“You like jazz?” he asked, sounding so delighted that she couldn’t stop herself from lying.
“Yeah,” she agreed, hoping she could fake her interest. “Do you?”
He looked excited. “I love it,” he declared happily. “Most people our age just don’t get how amazing it is. But it’s so full of emotion.”
“That’s the best part,” she echoed, silently reminding herself to go look up jazz music as