Tell Me It’s Right (Sweetspire #1)

Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

GRACIE

The shop stays closed through the weekend, and I busy myself with more job applications, tweaks to the new website and socials, and a trip to the bookstore to stock up. They closed the only shop in Sweetspire, and now the closest one is over half an hour away on the other side of Edgewater.

I manage to cover the worst of the bruising on my face with makeup now that Leo and Keava are back, and thankfully they don’t look closely enough to notice. I have half a mind to swing by and say hi to Mom and Dad while I’m over here, but they would look closely enough to notice, and I really don’t have the energy to dodge questions right now.

I sigh as I step through the doors, waiting for the smell of paper and wooden shelves to work its way through my veins and give me that high I can’t find anywhere else. It’s a smaller shop with a café in the back and few store cats roaming through the aisles. I smile as a large orange one struts up to me, tail held proudly in the air, and rubs against my legs, purring.

But still, for maybe the first time ever, browsing the bookshelves and sipping my iced coffee doesn’t bring me joy. There’s not anyone else in here right now, giving me the whole place to myself, and for some reason, I can’t force myself to enjoy it. I stare at the rows upon rows of colorful spines on the shelf, but I can’t focus enough to read the titles.

I meander to the front of the shop where the display tables are. I grab a few with covers that catch my eye on the romance one and check out without reading the blurbs just to have something as I take a seat in the café to read for a bit. I’m not quite ready to go home, and I’m not in a sunny enough mood to go sit on the beach.

But instead of cracking my new books open, I find myself in a Google rabbit hole.

What’s the difference between assault, aggravated assault, and battery?

What happens when someone presses charges?

Can you go to jail for beating someone up?

What if he deserved it?

This is all my fault. And if Miles’s dad is true to his word, Liam is going to pay the price for it.

I stare at my phone like I’m waiting for a notification to appear.

I haven’t seen or heard from Liam at all since patching him up in the kitchen. That was two days ago.

Which before, wouldn’t be that unusual. But for some reason, going that long without talking to him feels different now.

It’s almost physically painful to resist the urge to reach out. But he might not want to hear from me. Maybe the reality of the situation is sinking in too and he blames me.

I hope you know you just threw your entire future away.

Sighing, I grab my bag of books and head to Leo’s car. This excursion hasn’t been nearly as helpful as I hoped. I try rolling the windows down, blasting upbeat music, and taking the longer route with a better view of the water to snap myself out of it, but my mind is stewing the entire drive back to the point of feeling obsessive.

I just wish I knew why Liam was?—

—sitting on Leo’s couch?

I freeze with one foot in the door as Liam’s and Leo’s heads turn in my direction. They’re lounged on the couch with some sports game on the TV.

“Hey!” Leo calls as I finally get my feet to work again and close the door. “We ordered some pizzas that should be here any minute. Got half veg for you.”

“Thanks,” I mumble.

Liam meets my eyes as I step into the kitchen, then smirks as his gaze falls to the bookstore logo on the bag. He looks a lot better today, though I can’t see his hands from this angle. I can’t help but wonder how bad Miles’s face is.

I hope he looks like roadkill.

Liam stares at me a moment longer, his eyebrows lowering at whatever he sees on my face.

Wordlessly, I take my books and head for the basement stairs. I’m nearly to the bottom when I hear Liam say, “I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

“No need to announce yourself,” says Leo.

Footsteps creak on the floor overhead, but then they start down the stairs, so light I almost can’t hear them.

I’m sitting on the edge of my bed when Liam’s head appears around the corner.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hey.”

He doesn’t come far into the room, just a few steps from the stairs, and crosses his arms over his chest as he leans a shoulder against the wall. “Find anything good?”

“Huh?”

He nods at the bag beside me. “At the bookstore.”

“Oh.” I stare at it. “I—I don’t know. I just kind of grabbed a few random ones.”

When I meet his eyes, he’s frowning.

“Are you all right? You seem off.”

“Oh,” I say again, feeling off. Feeling…confused. About a lot of things, really. But namely why he’s down here talking to me. And why he had to lie to Leo about it. And why I was so relieved the moment I walked in the door and saw him here. “Have you…have you heard from Miles’s family or anything? About pressing charges?”

He blinks and pulls his head back an inch. “ That’s what—you’re worried about me ?”

“Well, yeah,” I all but laugh. As if picking him up from jail isn’t as far from my normal routine as you can get.

He stares at me in a way that makes me feel like I’m under a spotlight. Slowly, he peels off the wall and sits on the bed beside me. “I haven’t heard anything from them yet.”

“But you think they will. Press charges.”

He nods once. “I’m not worried about it, so I definitely don’t want you to be. I’ll deal with it when it comes.”

How can he possibly not be worried about it? I peek at him out of the corner of my eye and find him already staring at me, namely, my mouth.

To see how visible your injuries still are, the same way you were looking at him .

“What did you tell Leo?” I ask, letting my hair fall in front of my face to hopefully conceal the way my cheeks are burning. I gesture at his hands. “There’s no way he didn’t notice.”

“I told him I got into it with Miles at the skatepark.” My head whips around. “I said nothing about you,” he hurries to add. “But I figured gossip moves fast around here, and he’d probably hear about it, so I tried to keep it as close to the truth as I could. Just made up some excuse about him getting Asher back into drugs.”

I nod slowly. “And he bought that?”

He shrugs, and his shoulder brushes mine. “Seemed to. It’s not far off.”

For some reason, having him this close has my heart beating faster, like I’m doing something I’m not supposed to. He runs his hands up and down his thighs like a nervous tick. His knuckles are bruised and swollen, enough that he’s notably not wearing any of his rings today. He wets his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but then the doorbell rings.

He holds my eyes for a beat longer before murmuring, “The pizza.”

I nod.

He nods.

He hesitates, his gaze so intense on my face that I can’t look away, but then he blinks and rises to his feet, and the moment dissipates.

He heads for the stairs and calls, “I’ve got it!”