Boyfriend Bargain (Hawthorne University #1)(74)

“I’m going to his room for better company.” I walk down the hall.

“If you really want to know what Z sees in you, just open his nightstand drawer,” she calls out from behind me as she follows.

“I don’t go through people’s private things.” But I do recall the look on his face when he looked at his nightstand a few days back.

Before I can shut the door, she comes into his room, circling around me until she’s standing next to his bed. She sits on the navy duvet, her hand stroking over his pillow, and I want to jump on her, but I grit my teeth instead.

“What do you want, Veronica?”

She looks around the space and laughs. “That night at the Kappa party when he first saw you, it was like you were a ghost, and then he just had to have you.”

Ghost?

“So?” I feign boredom.

“Just open the drawer. See what’s there and all will be revealed and you can quit being the stupid dumb blonde who thinks the hockey player is falling for her.”

A tingle of dread crawls along my spine. “No.”

“Fine. Let me do the honors.” She leans over with a flippant attitude and pulls the drawer out, her expression lighting up at whatever she sees, and I guess this isn’t the first time she’s been through his things. She pulls out a small gold box and dumps the contents on his bed. Dozens of folded yellow pieces of paper fall out along with a lone photograph that floats around and lands near the end of the bed, closest to me. I don’t look at it.

“Afraid?” She smiles.

“No. I assume those are the letters he writes to Willow for therapy.”

She shakes her head. “It’s sick how he’s fooled you.”

My resolve cracks, but I trust him. Don’t I?

“Still not curious about those letters?” she asks, running her hands through them.

“No.”

“Chicken.” With a sigh, as if she doesn’t have a care in the world, she plucks one of the letters out of the pile and unfolds it. “Oh, look, this one’s dated a week ago. Let’s see what he says to her.” She clears her throat and begins to read.

“Willow,

Another nightmare. Remember that time we went camping for the weekend with only a tent, a few bottles of water, and a pizza? Reece was determined to spend the entire night, but somehow you talked him into us ditching the whole idea and taking off for Denny’s and you ordered an everything omelet without anything in it but cheese. I still laugh about that night. I’m lost here in the real world, yet you’re the one who’s dead. I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry for doing you wrong. If you were here, my whole life would be different. I love you. Forever, Z.”

Her eyes flash up at me. “Wow. He loves her forever, and you’re just the poor substitute.” She grins. “And if she were here, there’d be no you in his life. I find that hilarious.”

“He writes those for a reason,” I say, maintaining control, but my hands are wrapped around my stomach. I love you. Forever. I hang on to the dresser for support. “You shouldn’t go through his private things,” I manage to say, but my voice is wispy. Weak.

“Maybe.” She rummages through the pile and pulls out the photograph. “See anything interesting?”

I know I shouldn’t, but I take it from her.

First, I notice how handsome both Z and Reece are, their faces leaner than they are now, vibrant with youth and vitality. The girl…she’s small next to them, petite and gorgeous with long hair that’s flowing over her shoulders, the color a shimmering white-blonde.

I finger my own hair, taking in her face, the way it curves, the shape of her eyebrows and how they frame her face. That sick feeling inside me grows, spreading.

“It’s eerie, right?” Veronica says softly, watching my face. “You could be her sister.”

I tear my eyes from the picture and my hands tremble. “We aren’t sisters.”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Veronica says, her face triumphant. “How does it feel to be the B team?”

I look down at it again, and my stomach turns. The truth batters at me, even as I try to deny it, but…her hair color, the length, the way our faces are shaped…my hands curl at my sides.

God. What is happening?

I’m falling down a deep, vast hole…

A bitter laugh flows out of her. “You can’t compete with her. You can’t be better than a dead girl. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

I let the photo fall to his bed, and I turn and make my way to the kitchen. I hear her behind me as she goes into Reece’s bedroom and shuts the door. Mission accomplished, I guess. She’s been dying to tell me this since she first saw me, and now…

I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen, my heart pounding like crazy, trying to piece it all together when the front door opens and Eric, Reece, and Z come in with long faces.

“Ah, my favorite blonde—just the welcome home I need,” Eric says, making a joke that comes off as forced. He jumps ahead of Z teasingly, gives me a quick hug, and then steps back, giving me a quizzical look. “Hey, we’re the ones in a shitty mood. What’s your excuse, babe?”

Z’s at my side, easing me away from Eric. A furrow knits his brow as he stares down at me. He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “What’s wrong? Did something scare you?”