I love him.
I hate him.
Micah told me Jude insisted we leave him alone. But when he said he never wanted to see me again...I knew he was lying. He loves me. The stupid jerk.
I’m about to tuck my phone into my pajama shorts pocket when it vibrates. I gasp, nearly dropping the damn thing in a panic. It’s a message from Rook.
Rook:
My cousin’s boss agreed to see you. Turns out his wife is a huge fan of Jude’s band. I’m sending you the address for a restaurant he frequents. He told me to tell you to wear a blue dress, have your hair up, and wear red lipstick.
I frown, thumb hovering over the keyboard.
Why?
His reply comes almost instantly.
Rook:
So he knows who you are. Duh. You’re really bad at this.
I roll my eyes, but I type anyway.
Okay, you’re right. Thank you so much. This means a lot to me.
His next message arrives, blunt and casual.
Rook:
You’re welcome. Just know the guy is a little scary. I definitely don’t fuck with him. I sent him your number, so he might text you when he arrives.
I stare at the address and time that pop up on the screen.This might actually work.I turn and look back at the bed where Micah and Heather are still asleep. Micah’s arm is draped over her waist, looking too peaceful to bother. But I can’t help it, because my chest is filling with so many different emotions right now.
I have to tell them.
I lean down and shake Micah’s shoulder gently. “Micah,” I whisper.
He mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed.
“Micah,” I repeat, a little louder.
He groans, opens one eye, and squints at me. “What?” he says, sleepy.
I sit beside them. “Rook texted.”
His eyes widen, and he sits up. “What?”
“He says his cousin’s boss agreed to meet me,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “He said he’s a scary man, though. So, that’s great.”
Micah blinks. Then the seriousness hits his face. “He actually said he’sscary?”he asks.
I nod, and his jaw tightens.
Heather shifts in the bed, her eyes fluttering open. “Scary?” she repeats, voice thick with sleep. Then she squints at me, fully awake now. “Wait—what? Like…scary-scary or likegoodscary?”
I exhale, a small laugh escaping me despite myself. “Probably scary-scary. Rook said he doesn’t even mess with him.”
Micah tilts his head, messy hair falling around his face. “We’re saying‘scary’a lot.”