Running Scared (Letters From Morgantown Book 1)

by Tracie Puckett

  “You work here?” I asked.

  “Yep, it’s where I spend the waking hours, whenever I’m not at the B&B,” she said. “I’m guessing Chris didn’t bring you in here on your last excursion?”

  “No,” I said. “We walked by it a few times, but we never came in.”

  “Yeah, seems about right,” she said, leaning closer to whisper. “Brit’s mom owns the place, so she’s in here all the time. He wouldn’t wanna run the risk of running into her.”

  “I don’t know who that is,” I said.

  “Because it’s not a big deal,” Amy said, looking back to Danielle. “You don’t need to do that. You do not have to bring her up at every given chance.”

  “Oh, come on. We’re in the boutique; we were talking about Chris,” she said. “It was a natural course of conversation. Besides, it’s not a crime to mention his ex-girlfriend.”

  “It is when it’s a sensitive subject,” Amy challenged, but then she turned to a nearby clothing rack, satisfied to end the conversation there.

  “Sensitive subject or not, their relationship happened. It’s not like you can erase it because it’s over.”

  “It’s not like they were married,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “They dated for six months, and they weren’t even together for most of it. It was a stupid high school thing.”

  “One that only ended because he ran off with you,” Danielle said, and then she turned to me. “The day we graduated, they were gone. He couldn’t wait to get out of here.”

  “Can you blame him, though?” Amy asked. “He was gonna go, with or without me, and I couldn’t let him leave alone. I was being a friend.”

  “Chris wasn’t your only friend,” Danielle said. “By helping him, you backstabbed her.”

  “You’re acting like I meant to hurt her,” Amy said.

  “You ran off with her boyfriend.”

  “No,” she put a hand up. “She knew the circumstances as well as anyone.”

  “Yeah, well, regardless of the circumstances, no girl wants to watch her boyfriend drive off for the summer with another girl.”

  “Danielle, stop. We’ve been out for ten minutes, and we’re fighting already. We do this every time, and I don’t want to have this conversation again,” Amy said. “You refuse to see it for what it was, and I’m tired of arguing about it. It’s history. Can we please move on?”

  “It looked fishy, that’s all. He just left,” Danielle said, ignoring Amy’s plea to let it go. “All Brit wanted was to be there for him, but he chose you.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Amy asked, and as I looked between the two of them, I realized they’d forgotten I was standing there. They were completely tied up in their argument, oblivious to the store, the customers, the whole environment around them. “Brit didn’t want to help him. If she’d wanted to be there, she would’ve been there when it mattered.”

  “She tried; he pushed her away.”

  “I cannot believe you’re still taking her side after all this time.”

  “She’s my friend, in case you’ve forgotten,” Danielle said. “And I’m not taking sides. You’ll notice I’m still close with Chris, too.”

  “Yeah, and we both know why you’ve stayed close to him,” Amy said. “And man, I wonder what your friend would think if she knew why you really stuck around the B&B. Does she know you’re in love with him?”

  Danielle’s head jerked back, stunned by the accusation.

  “Guys, maybe we should talk about something else,” I said, cutting in. I wasn’t sure either of them had meant for their conversation to get out of line, to derail what started as a nice morning together, but the tension was high. Even Amy had tried to put a stop to it before it escalated, but it grew out of control fast, and now the air was thick.

  Giving herself some distance from Danielle, Amy weaved through a few racks of clothing and closer to the window. Danielle huffed a frustrated breath, then she turned to me.

  “Who’d you draw for Secret Santa?”

  “Subtle segue,” I said, looking over my shoulder to Amy. I wanted to follow her, to make sure she was okay. I couldn’t understand why, but something compelled me to believe she hadn’t deserved the attack. Danielle had proven that she was capable of kindness, but she’d also shown that she could be ruthless when she wanted to be. The argument had crept up out of nowhere, almost as if Danielle had calculated the conversation to go straight where it’d gone, and neither of us had seen it coming. Poor Amy took the brunt of it, and the hurt was apparent in her eyes.

  “Who’d you get?” Danielle asked again. “Me? Theo?”

  “Secret Santa,” I said, reiterating the point Chris made the day we drew names.

  “I got Chris,” she admitted. “And I have no idea what to get him.”

  “What to make him?”

  “Buy. You don’t seriously think I’m going to make something?”

  “I think you should try. It would mean more.”

  There was no recovering from what had happened—what I’d witnessed, the things I’d overheard. Amy had confirmed my suspicion that Danielle had feelings for Chris, not that it came as a surprise, but I was still confused as to what his relationship was to her. He’d left his girlfriend to run off for the summer with Amy? He’d chosen her? What did that mean? And what were the “circumstances?” How did he justify that?

  And now Danielle was acting so strange, trying to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had even happened, and I couldn’t blame her for a second when she dismissed herself five minutes later. Claiming that she was too tired, she saw her way to the front of the boutique and left. I should’ve followed, but only because I would’ve rather been back at the B&B than tied up in their catty drama, especially when it left me with even more questions about Chris.

  “I’m sorry,” Amy said, meeting me by a shelf of perfumes. “This day was supposed to be about you, and I made it awkward.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Embarrassed. That got way out of hand. It always does.”

  I didn’t know the story, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to, so I accepted her response, and nodded.

  “I think I’ll go,” I said. “I don’t need anything, anyway.”

  “I’ll walk with you.”

  We left the boutique and turned out onto the sidewalk, making our way back toward the B&B. As we moved farther away from the center of town, I let my eyes trail down to her left hand, the one that was still void of an engagement ring.

  I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t want to know . . . of course I wanted to know.

  I wondered if she was as serious about Eli as he was about her. Had he proposed yet? Had she said no? It didn’t seem likely, because they were both still in town—I’d seen him this morning. He’d kissed her goodbye and wished her a fun morning in town. If she’d rejected him, I had doubts he would’ve stuck around. I imagined his plan was still in motion, to make his move and pop the question when the time felt right. But I couldn’t help but wonder when the moment came, and he was down on one knee, would Amy accept his proposal? What if she had something with Chris that she’d never gotten over? What if, like Danielle, she was in love with him, too?

  Maybe that’s why the two women couldn’t get along.

  “How long are you guys in town?” I asked, hoping for a distraction from my jealous thoughts.

  “We were supposed to leave tomorrow, but I think we’ll stay a while,” she said. “We just got here, and I don’t want to turn around and go back so soon, you know? I want to spend some time with my family in Desden this week, and then maybe we’ll come back for the carnival next weekend.”

  “I’ve heard it’s not to be missed,” I said.

  “I hate that I ever miss it,” she said, glancing around the street. “I’m coming back, you know? As soon as I finish school.”

  “You’re moving back?”

  “It’s home,” she said, smiling. “Even though my parents got out of here
as soon as I left. They wanted to be closer to my aging grandparents, so they packed up and went to Desden, and I did what I was supposed to. I went to college. I promised my family I would get out and experience life, but I never promised I wouldn’t come right back home. What about you? What are your plans?”

  “Plans?”

  “After you graduate,” she said. “You’re a senior this year, right?”

  “Right,” I said. “Yeah, I don’t know yet. Right now I’m trying to get through one day at a time.”

  “I hope you stay. I’d hate to see you leave. Chris cares about you,” she said, shamelessly. “And he hasn’t had many people in his life who’ve chosen to stick around.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I’m guessing you get the happy-go-lucky side of him, the goofball Chris who never says more than he has to.”

  “He always says more than he has to,” I said, smirking.

  “Of course, most days you can’t shut him up,” she said. “I’m talking about the bigger issues, the stuff that matters. The small talk he can handle, but when it comes to the hard stuff . . . ”

  “He shuts down,” I said. “I get it.”

  “Theo’s been wonderful for him,” she said. “He’s been the one constant in his life, for almost his whole life. He’s needed that.”

  “It seems you’ve been around for quite some time, too,” I said, still trying to figure out the dynamic between her and Chris. I hated that I felt a twinge of jealousy, but it seemed like their history was a lot more scandalous than either of them had let on.

  “We grew up together,” she said. “But I’m not here anymore, and distance makes things harder.” She paused for a minute before turning back to me. “His sister was my best friend. The three of us were inseparable as kids. He was the brother I never had, and in many ways, he still is.”

  “Where’s his sister now? What happened to her?”

  “When the time is right, I think that’s a conversation for you and Chris to have. It’s not my place,” she said, making a pathetic attempt at a smile. “He’ll find the right time.”

  I doubted that. Chris was always willing to listen, but even though he talked a lot, he never said much. He kept his past concealed, only letting bits and pieces out a time. It was something I understood all too well. The hard stuff was too hard to talk about, even for him. And even when there were things to say, it was all about timing. Sometimes loss leads to retreat. I’d said that myself.

  “Do you like him?”

  “It would be impossible not to,” I admitted. “And believe me, I’ve tried not to.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “How much time do we have?” I asked, counting the reasons.

  “He deserves something good in his life,” she said, reiterating what Theo had already said. I love him. I want to see him happy. “But there’s something you need to understand about Chris.”

  “Okay?”

  “In the past, he wasn’t always selective about who he got close to,” she said. “He blindly trusted his heart, and he got hurt. More than once. His most admirable quality was also his biggest detriment—he was stupidly trusting. He would see a person’s goodness long before he saw anything else, and as the time went by, he was blindsided by the toxic things he didn’t see from the start. He was a little naive in his understanding of how the world works.

  “But loss does something to a person,” she continued. “Everyone handles it differently, and Chris gained a sense of perspective he’d never had. He’s grown a lot in the last few years, toughened up. He started to see life the way it is, and the shock of it rocked his world. It carried him to the opposite extreme. We lost him. He closed off, he shut down. He threw up a wall a mile high and impossible to breach.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Chris,” I said, although I believed her. He’d told me last night how much he’d struggled with the loss of his sister and grandmother, how much he wanted to save me from falling into the same rhythm he’d fallen into.

  “Something happened when you arrived in Morgantown, Sydney.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s uncharacteristic of Chris to be enamored by someone so quickly,” she said. “He’s trusting you blindly, and that should scare him to death, considering what he’s been through. I’m convinced that if you try to get close to him, he’s going to let you. Sydney, that guy is my best friend. I want to see him happy,” she said, echoing Theo. “I see how he looks at you, and I know he’s falling hard. So I want to offer you a piece of advice, if you’ll take it.”

  “Okay?”

  “Stop fighting it,” she said. “If you feel something, embrace it. There’s something about you that’s brought out the best version of my friend again, and I have a feeling he’s been as good for you in return.”

  “He has.”

  “Then don’t push him away. He’s one of the good ones, Sydney. The best. The guy has a heart of gold, but he’s often afraid to trust it. He’s trusting it now, with you, and that means something. He’s offering a part of himself he doesn’t give lightly to anyone anymore. I think you’re crazy if you let something this good pass you by. Only an idiot would walk away from him. Don’t be that idiot.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I wasn’t ready to go back to the B&B. I wanted to absorb the shock. I’d questioned it last night: how in the world could Chris have feelings for someone like me? How was it that I’d become the object of his affection, the person who’d gained his trust?

  He’d never seemed as closed off as Amy described him. From the moment our paths crossed, he’d been easygoing and welcoming. Warm. Was it possible that the time she spent away from him had skewed her perspective, or was she right? Had my presence at the B&B somehow helped him in the same way that his presence in my life had helped me? Were we helping each other? Did Chris have that initial gut instinct that I’d felt, that there was something between us that was impossible to ignore?

  We stopped off at the edge of town and slipped into a corner coffee shop. With the sun behind the clouds, the wind picking up, and the suddenly low temperatures, neither of us was content walking any farther than we had to. The coffee shop was a sure bet for warming up and unwinding.

  I found a table at the front of the shop, and Amy dismissed herself to use the bathroom. She said she’d call for one of the guys to pick us up after we’d had a chance to talk over coffee, or at least thaw our fingers.

  I waited at the table, glancing up at the menu above the counter, pretending to contemplate my order, but still thinking of Chris.

  “What are you having?” My eyes jerked back to the man who’d slyly slid into the chair across from mine, and I felt myself inch away. I’m asking that you please, please, for the love of God, Sydney, please . . . stay away from that man. He’s trouble. My eyes fell with a few heavy blinks, and I struggled to put words together. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “You’re—”

  “Andrew Medina,” he said, but I didn’t need the reminder.

  I kept visualizing Chris’s face, remembering how quickly his demeanor had changed when I’d first met the man seated across from me. I hate that guy. In my stomach, deep in my gut, I felt the familiar sensation of distrust. He’d riled Chris, and he’d enjoyed it. So, whether he knew it or not, I had no interest in wasting my time talking to him. I had zero tolerance for anyone who could disrespect someone I cared so much about.

  “I’m going to guess based solely on your expression right now, that you’ve been told to stay away from me. Is that it?”

  “I’m sorry, but my friend’s going to be back from the bathroom any second,” I said, finding my voice. “You’re in her seat.”

  “She can find another.”

  “She doesn’t need to,” I said. “That’s her seat.”

  “Why the cold shoulder?”

  “I’m not trying to be rude,” I said. “I’m sorry if I’m being rude. But . . . I’m not comfortable w
ith you approaching me like this. I don’t know you.”

  “I’m here now; I’m giving you a chance to know me,” he said, his eager smile growing wider. “Okay, if I’m being honest, that’s a lie. I’m here because I want to get to know you a little better.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “You’re new in town.”

  “Right?”

  “And I write for the Morgantown Gazette,” he said, sliding a business card across the table. “I’ve heard ramblings about you, about your story and what brought you to town. You’re a survivor, and I think your story would make a great human interest piece.”

  “I’m not interested,” I said again.

  “I’m only asking for a small amount of time,” he said. “One article.”

  “I’m sorry, but no. That’s not going to happen.”

  “Consider it,” he said. “We could set something up, and we’ll keep it informal. Maybe an interview over breakfast, or possibly dinner, if you’re available. How’s tomorrow look? Let’s say nine a.m. at the—”

  “I’m not giving you an interview,” I said, feeling my patience run thin. I’d promised myself that if I ever ran into him again that I’d at least try to be nice, but he wasn’t making it easy.

  “Can I persuade you?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Listen, it’s a small town, and I’ve seen the way they react to newcomers here. They’re nosy. They want to know you, and if you agreed to an interview, it may help lessen your appeal. I can answer all their questions. Maybe then you can leave home without the fear of being bothered.”

  “I’ve been in town all morning and the only person who’s bothered me is you,” I said. “I’m not as plagued by attention as you think I am.”

  “One interview.”

  “No,” I said. “What part of that don’t you understand?”

  “I’m picking up on some hostility,” he said, leaning forward. “Why is that, exactly? Because your boyfriend doesn’t like me?”

  “Chris has no bearing on my attitude toward you.”

  “So I’m right to assume you’re dating Chris? Is that confirmation?”