The Girl in the Love Song (Lost Boys #1)(47)

“Be safe, Dear.”

River flashed me a quick smile. “Call you later?”

“Uh, sure.”

That’s a first.

“Great.” He gave me an awkward peck on the cheek and left, leaving Nancy and me alone in the silence.

“He’s really sweet,” I said finally.

“He is. You two are growing close?”

“I’d say baby steps. We’re both really busy.”

Nancy nodded. “Indeed. Might I trouble you for some tea?”

“And a Hot Pocket, maybe?”

She grinned. “You read my mind.”

I smiled back and headed down to the kitchen. Nancy rarely had the appetite for more than a few bites of food, but I wanted to get as much nutrition in her as possible without being obvious. Feeding Miller all those years had been good practice for being smooth about it.

I took the stairs down, moving through a current of River’s cologne. Faint, but potently masculine.

And he told his mom I’m someone special.

I put the kettle on the stove and put a Chamomile packet in a mug and inhaled, letting a little positivity in. Since the crazy party, life was finally starting to settle down. My parents hadn’t had a blow-up in weeks, River and I were going to the dance. If Miller would just talk to me again, things would be perfect…

My phone chimed a text and a little sound of joy erupted out of me to see that it was from him.

I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick lately. Was thinking about coming over tonight? It’s been awhile.

My thumbs flew. YES! I miss you.

The rolling dots came and went. Then came back.

Me too.





Chapter Ten





“Stratton. Let’s roll.”

I blinked out of the lyrics I’d been messing around with and set down my pen. Ronan and Holden were at the door of the Shack, waiting.

“Yep. Coming.”

I glanced over the words once more. Snippets of thoughts. Sketches of feeling. For Violet. Because, of course, it was for Violet. Every note, every tune, every phrase and lyric were born from the same place in me that loved her and always would.

But I have to let her go.

I stashed the notebook with my guitar case in a locked trunk that Holden had bought, so I didn’t have to carry the instrument around with me all day. A much-appreciated upgrade.

Twilight was turning the sky outside gold and purple, though it was dim in the Shack. I threw on a plaid flannel button down over my t-shirt and pulled a knit beanie over my head to keep the hair out of my eyes. I grabbed a juice from the mini fridge, powered by a small lithium battery generator. More of Holden’s upgrades. I kept the fridge stocked with food so that I could worry less about Chet pilfering. Ronan stored his beer in it, Holden liked to keep a bottle of his favorite vodka.

Not to be outdone by refrigerators and decent lighting, Ronan and I made valuable contributions to our domicile, too. My boss at the arcade gave me three beach chairs for our nightly bonfires. Ronan brought weights for lifting, an endless supply of lighter fluid, and a ratty but clean-ish futon that Holden refused to sit on.

Instead, His Lordship had brought in a wing-backed chair that barely fit in the door. He sat and smoked his clove cigarettes as if he were an old rich bastard having a cognac in front of the fireplace in his mansion library. The guy threw money around as if the world were coming to an end. That should’ve pissed me off, but mostly, I was worried about him. He sure as hell drank like there was no tomorrow.

I joined Ronan and Holden, and we made our trek from our hidden spot along the beach up to Cliff Drive and headed east to the glittering lights of the Boardwalk. Holden called it our “nightly prowl.” We gathered curious looks and a few murmurs from Central High students that carried back to school.

I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of us, but if I did, I’d have blamed Holden. He dressed in expensive coats and scarves, despite the fact that summer was only just ending. Violet told me Holden reminded her of a vampire. I agreed. An old-world vampire whose skin was pale and cold until he’d had a drink. Booze, not blood, seemed to be the only thing that warmed him up.

As we walked, he sipped from a flask tucked into the pocket of his gray wool herringbone coat that went nearly to the ground, the collar turned up over a black silk shirt and a green and gold paisley scarf.

“Something on your mind?” he asked as we strolled the crowded walk, the scents of cotton candy, funnel cake, and grilled corn in the air. “Preoccupied with greatness since your performance at the party?”

“Hardly.”

Preoccupied with how Violet’s face looked that night, maybe. Preoccupied with how the tears streamed down her cheeks as she clapped for me and then ran out. Because I’d been cold to her then and ignoring her ever since.

I have to fix this. I miss my friend.

I whipped out my phone.

I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick lately. Was thinking about coming over tonight? It’s been awhile.

A reply came quickly. YES! I miss you.

God, those words. I ate them up. Swallowed them down and tried to let them feed me. I was still starving for her. My stupid fucking heart still beat for her. It wouldn’t leave her alone.

But it has to.

Me too. I sent back and shoved the phone in my pocket with a sigh.