Page 20 of The Write Stuff

“But is it safe?”

“It’s fine.” She turned to leave, but I reached out to grab her elbow to stop her.

“I’m being serious,” I insisted when she lifted her eyes to mine. “If it’s not safe, I can walk you home and call my Uber to pick me up there.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Wylie replied as she pulled her elbow away from me. There was a defiance in her eyes that hadn’t been there when she was a kid. It made her even more attractive.

Dammit!

“I can take care of myself, Huxley,” she said evenly. “I’m not that geeky kid who embarrassed you and was all over the place. I’m an adult now. I can walk a few blocks after dark.”

“But …” It wasn’t about her being geeky. It was about her being safe. Her expression told me that didn’t matter to her. I took a step back. “Okay.” My smile was flat and hard. “Be careful.”

“Thanks. I’ll be fine.”

I watched her go, conflicted. Then I started following. From a discreet distance, of course. She never once looked over her shoulder. I followed her across multiple intersections, always making sure I could see her but never growing too close. When she finally reached her destination, I hung back in the shadows and watched her clear security to get into her building.

Wylie Dixon was just as stubborn as I remembered. So much of her was the same, and yet so much was different, too. She hadn’t grown up how I expected her to grow up, and that was hard for me to accept. I’d been so certain of who she would be that I’d never seen the potential, even though it was obviously right there.

My phone dinged with an incoming text, and I welcomed the distraction. I would have to walk a few blocks away before calling my Uber — I didn’t want Wylie to see that I’d followed her through a window or anything — but it could wait a few minutes.

I had a text from my agent.

How did the reader event go? Did I mention that they’re trying to negotiate a visit from your mother for the final event of the season, at the end of the summer? It’s going to be epic.

Josh Harding was my agent, and he said annoying things like “epic” and “rad” all the time. I liked him anyway. News that they were trying to get my mother for the final event was hardly surprising. Even now, years removed from the big movie trilogy and series, she was a sought-after name. The news wouldn’t have bothered me before I realized Wylie was here, too. Now that I knew she was, however, my stomach threatened a revolt.

I couldn’t explain to Josh why it was a bad idea to bring my mother here. If I mentioned Wylie’s presence, that would just get the higher-ups salivating even more. We had different publishers, which probably meant nobody had realized that we would cross paths. I would have to figure out a different way to escape the situation. I could always just call my mother and tell her I didn’t want her there because she would steal my thunder. She would understand that and agree to stay away.

Yeah, that was the ticket. For now, I wouldn’t even mention it. I typed a quick reply back.

It was good. Fun, even. I’m waiting for an Uber now. I’ll message you a full report tomorrow.

I got a thumbs-up in reply.

I cast one more look at Wylie’s building over my shoulder, then turned to walk toward a well-lit area about a block away.

I’d always wondered what it would feel like to see her again. Now I knew, and none of the scenarios that had played out in my head matched the reality. She was here, and she wasn’t leaving. What did that mean for both of us?

6

SIX

Itold myself that seeing Huxley wasn’t the worst thing in the world. We’d cleared the air — something that was a long time coming — and knew where we stood.

I was irritated, though.

He’d brought up Mick, which was ballsy. I’d been convinced he was going to evade that entire conversation. That wasn’t what happened, though. No, he’d gone there, and it left me fuming.

I didn’t sleep well that night and was still agitated the next morning. So, as I set about unpacking, I pulled out my tablet and placed a call to my sister.

She was wearing a cowboy hat when she answered. It was pink, with sparkles, and her shirt featured a big Ellen DeGeneres face.

“Unbelievable,” was all I could manage when I got a good gander at what she was wearing. “Don’t you think that’s a little … ?” What was the word I was even looking for here?

Lucy had cut her long brown hair, so it was above her shoulders in an adorable bob. I actually appreciated the cut. I’d always been frightened to go short, but seeing her look so cute had my mind whirling. Could I pull off that cut? We looked a lot alike, despite being more than 10 years apart in age. It was a thought.

“What?” Lucy tilted her head, telling me she was feeling defiant. “What were you going to say?” she pressed when I didn’t immediately answer.