The Highland Fling(83)

Then she turns to me and waves. “Have a good night, Bonnie.”

“Yeah, you too,” I say awkwardly as anger boils inside me. When I turn to look at my friend, the same anger is mirrored in her as she stalks toward the cottage, bag in hand. She doesn’t even wait for me to move, bumping my shoulder as she enters.

I shut the door behind me and slip on my metaphorical boxing gloves.

But Dakota doesn’t say anything. Instead, she goes straight to her room.

“Uh, care to talk to me?” I call out.

“No.”

She shuts her bedroom door.

Why the hell is she mad?

She doesn’t get to be mad.

I’m the mad one right now.

Storming toward her door, I fling it open to find her texting on her phone, most likely to Isla about her psycho best friend.

“Where have you been?” I feel like the mother of a teenager right now, demanding answers, and from the annoyed look I get from her, I really am feeling the teenage vibes.

“With Isla.”

Duh.

“You said you were going to be here by dinnertime.”

“Yeah, well, we stopped somewhere and had dinner.”

“You could have told me.”

“Why? You’re not my mother.”

“Uh, excuse me?” I say, nearly blown over by her attitude. “First of all, where is this sass coming from? Second of all, pardon me for caring if you’re dead or alive.”

Dakota flings her arm to the side. “That was embarrassing back there, and you made Isla uncomfortable.”

“I was worried.”

“Worried about what? Your espresso machine and signage? Don’t worry, we dropped it off at the shop. You can go check if you want.”

“What? Are you serious? Dakota, I was worried about you.”

“So is that why you kept texting me all day yesterday and today about the sign but never thought to ask how our trip was?”

She stands, grabs her bag, and pushes past me.

“Where are you going?”

“Isla’s.”

“The hell you are.” I charge toward the door and stand in front of it, barring her escape. “We’re still talking, and I’ll have you know, I didn’t ask about your trip because I was hurt.”

“Hurt? About what?”

“We were supposed to go to Inverness together.”

Dakota opens her mouth and then closes it. The tension in her shoulders drops. “I thought that was a joke.”

“You might have thought it was, but I thought we were going to sightsee together.”

“We did. We went through the Highlands.”

“A portion, but there is so much more of Scotland, and Inverness is a day trip.”

“I didn’t know,” she says calmly, the steam quickly fading. “Isla was excited to show me around, and I didn’t want to say no. I was thrilled she even asked me, you know, since Isabella never wanted to take me anywhere. I’m sorry, Bonnie.”

Two words, that’s all it takes. Two words to break me down into a bubbling mess.

Tears well up in my eyes.

Throat constricts.

And then I’m a pile of emotions, sitting on the floor.

Dakota sits next to me and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Hey, I didn’t know it meant that much to you. I really am sorry.”

“It’s not that.” I take a deep breath and consider telling her how I’ve been feeling lately.

Left out.

Forgotten.

Like I’m losing my best friend to someone else.

Like I’m no longer needed or important to my person.

But in the grand scheme of things, it seems so juvenile and not something that needs to drag down this moment. Dakota is here now, and we have a little more time before we truly have to go to bed. We should make the most of it.

“Then, what is it?”

“Stressed,” I answer. “I’ve just been really stressed lately, and not knowing where you were only added to that. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“No, you’re right, I should have texted. It was just a good day, and I got lost in the moment. But I don’t want to talk about that.” She pulls me to my feet. “Did you sleep over at Rowan’s again?”

I smile. “I did.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Dakota wiggles her eyebrows like a dork.

“I’m going to break the news to you right now—anytime I’m over at Rowan’s, you can count on us having sex. No need to wiggle your eyebrows.”

She chuckles and then yawns. “Figured as much. Hey, I’m super tired from the last two days. I think I’m going to head to bed, okay?”

“Oh . . . okay, sure,” I say, a little caught off guard.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Dakota asks, sensing my hesitancy.

“No, I just thought we could catch up, but I get it.” I fake yawn. “Long day over here too.”

“Bonnie, we can catch up tomorrow, at the shop.”

“True. Doye.” I playfully hit my forehead, knowing for damn certain that I’ve never said the word doye out loud in my entire life. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll catch you on the flippity-flop.”