Into the Deep
Page 67

 Samantha Young

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“You’re a douche,” Lowe replied.
Matt thought about that for a second and then shrugged.
“Personally, I think it’s naebody’s business but Charley’s, Jake’s, and Melissa’s,” Rowena put in pointedly and stood. “So let’s put Charley out of her misery and go tae this bloody distillery before it closes.”
I knew I liked that girl for a reason.
The tour of the distillery was fun and Claudia definitely tried to take my mind off Jake by pushing whisky samples my way, but I couldn’t get him out of my head.
It grew even harder when he called me three hours after his departure.
I wandered away from the group, stepping outside into the parking lot, and answered. “Hey,” I said a little breathily, my nerves jumping all over the place.
“Hey.” His deep voice rippled through me and I closed my eyes, knowing that despite all the confusion and complication, if he’d been there with me, I’d be on him in a second. “Just wanted to check in.”
“Make sure I haven’t changed my mind?” I teased, only half joking.
“Something like that.”
“Well, I haven’t.”
“Good.”
I sighed. “How are you?”
“Got to admit, baby, I’m not looking forward to arriving in Edinburgh when you’re in Fort William. I wish you were here. I can’t believe we decided to give things a shot again and I’m on a train five minutes later traveling hundreds of miles away from you.”
“I know. But you were right. We need to take things one day at a time.”
“Yeah.” He sucked in a deep breath. “So are you at the distillery?”
“Yup. We got a tour and everything. But I barely remember a minute of it. My mind is kind of wandering …”
Jake was silent a moment before he told me quietly, “I feel like the biggest shit in the world right now because even though I’m sad about Melissa and I feel guilty as hell, I’m also pretty f**king excited we’re getting back together.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course, Jake. I wouldn’t have said yes to you otherwise.”
“Good, baby. I’m glad.”
“We still have a lot of things to talk about …”
“I know,” he replied quietly. “For now just tell me that when you get back on Sunday, you’ll meet me at Milk at nine o’clock so we can start over.”
I smiled tremulously. “I can do that.”
That night I lay in the bed next to Claudia’s and stared at the ceiling. I tried counting sheep, I tried going over song lyrics in my head, and I tried making lists of things I needed to do in an effort to bore myself to sleep. Yet, sleep eluded me. In the end, all I could think about was Jake and if I’d acted too impulsively by agreeing to get back together with him.
“You can’t sleep, can you?” Claudia’s voice surprised me.
Startled, I turned to her. “Apparently you can’t, either.”
“It’s because you’re thinking so loud.”
I grimaced. “I can’t help it.”
My friend flipped onto her side, tucking her hands beneath her pillow. “Do you want me to take your mind off it?”
“Uh, yes, please.”
Claudia’s expression was serious as she replied, “My mom called while you were taking a shower.”
Sensing something big, I twisted around onto my side to face her so she’d know she had my full attention. “What did she say?”
“She told me my real father’s name. She tracked him down for me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “She did? Wow.”
Claudia nodded, her mouth twisted in a little moue. “Apparently she’s more of a human that I thought. It’s the Botox—it confuses things. Anyway, his name is Dustin Tweedie.”
I blinked. “I know that name. Why do I know that name?”
“Because he was a pretty famous artist but he retired ten years ago. Google him. His art was weird but rich people buy weird shit. I would know. I live with two of them.”
It took a lot of self-restraint not to pick up my phone and put his name into Google. “Do you know anything else about him?”
“Just that he was brought up in England. Mom found out that he’s still a bachelor and he lives in Barcelona now.”
“My God, Claud. Are you okay?”
Her shoulder moved up to her ear. “I don’t know. I’m thinking I should just forget about him. Move on. He doesn’t know I exist and he lives in freaking Barcelona, so … it’s stupid to … I don’t even …”
Hearing her confusion and the crack in her voice, I slipped out from under my covers and darted across the room to her bed, my feet protesting against the icy cold floor. Claudia shimmied back, holding her duvet up, and I slipped in beside her. We faced each other and I reached for her hand. “Take your time thinking about what you want to do. Just know it’s not stupid if you’re thinking about reaching out to him. We’d all think about it if we were in your shoes.”
She nodded, biting on her lip, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I’m just tired of feeling like I’m constantly looking for something I never had. I’m not a kid anymore, Charley. I need to grow up and just accept what hand I’ve been dealt.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Never accept what hand you’ve been dealt if it’s not the hand you wanted. You deserve more than that. You deserve to win. Put all the other crap out of your head and just think about what you want.”
Her grip on my hand tightened so much, it was almost painful.
“Did you tell Beck?”
She shook her head. “He gets really mad about the whole thing—”
Because the idiot is in love with you!
“—and I didn’t want to turn the evening bad. He’s in a really good mood.”
“Are you two still … platonic?” I asked carefully.
“Oh no,” she shook her head, “you’re not getting to play matchmaker just because you and Jake are on your way to sorting your shit out. No, no, no.”
I laughed softly. “I just want you to be happy.”
Claudia made a face and replied airily, “I’m always happy.”