Breathe

Chapter 24

Lucie

Vinny sat at my dining table, wrapped in an actual towel now, a steaming mug of coffee just a few inches from him. His hair, as it air-dried, was slightly frizzy, the gel long since washed out of it leaving the strands to dangle unkempt in his eyes. A serene expression of content was glued to his face.

Over the warbled noise of the television that my parents were watching in the living room, I asked the question I'd been wanting to since I'd heard his voice through the phone: "Is there a reason you did this so suddenly?"

Vinny blinked a few times, then proceeded to hide his face behind his coffee mug. "It just dawned on me," he said, but I knew when Cian was lying, so I knew when Vinny was lying. The two were different and yet all the same. "Sorry to be so last minute—"

"There's something you're not telling me," I interjected. I'd been leaned back against the refrigerator, watching him from somewhat of a distance. Now, however, I approached. Vinny's eyes, wary and observant, trailed me as I slid out a chair for myself and sat down in it. "No," I corrected myself. "Something Cian told you not to tell me."

"He does tend to do that, doesn't he?" taunted Vinny mildly. He shut his eyes, pushing out a breath. "Look. What I did tonight has nothing to do with my brother, or whatever the heck he's up to. I promise, Lucie. If I knew something," he told me, opening his eyes so that they burned into mine, "I would have said something by now."

I scrutinized him for a moment longer, but found nothing but honesty in his gaze. Within me, I knew he was telling the truth. On more than one occasion had Vinny told me something Cian hadn't wanted him to. He was right—if he did know something, he would have already told me. Either that, or it wasn't something worth my knowledge. In the end, it didn't matter which.

I sat back in my seat with a heavy sigh, still watching Vinny to make sure he wasn't continuing to shiver. The towel around his shoulders looked heavy, wet spots in the fibers where his near platinum hair had dripped water onto it. "Did it work?"

Vinny seemed startled. "I'm sorry?"

"Your marvelous plan to start over again," I clarified, eyeing the devilish swim trunks warily. Swear to God, I was giving those things a Viking funeral, if it was the last thing I did. "Did it work, Vinny?"

He grinned.

"I think the ocean and I can be friends again, if that's what you're asking."

When Vinny left (he'd insisted he'd be fine walking back, even if I really, really wanted to drive him), I went up to my bedroom, planning to take a shower to wash off all the grime and dirt from the day. To my surprise, my window was about a quarter-way open, the curtains drifting around it in the breeze. I hadn't remembered opening it, but assumed Mom must have, possibly to air out whatever sort of scent she detected. My mother had the nose of a bloodhound. She could smell a dirty sock on my floor from a mile away, kid you not. It wasn't normal.

I shut it again, drawing the blinds closed and stepping into my bathroom. Flicking on the light, I jumped a little. There was a sticky note on my mirror that certainly hadn't been there before, and when I peered closely at it, I recognized Cian's scrunched print. The sneaky bastard.

This is totally not meant to be stalkerish. Sorry.

Anyway, I'm picking you up tomorrow night at seven to take you someplace nice. Look pretty for me.

I chuckled despite myself, then ripped the sticky note off. I was stunned to find another sticky note waiting behind the second one, an unexpected afterthought.