Page 111 of Chasing Headlines
“She's the one you have to worry about. Reporter. Probably already called her attorney.” His voice sounded flat, his eyes narrowed at me from across the room.
“Do you have any idea how frustrating that man is? I don’t even want to be in the same room, the same building! He makes me so mad I just want to—Ugh, I don’t know. Run a marathonto get far enough away from him. And even that wouldn’t be far enough.”
“You like him.”
I scoffed. “I hate his guts down to the strands of his DNA.”
“Blah blah ‘dost protest too much’ or whatever.” Cathy drew near. “I need something more substantial than cookies.”
“Oh, goodie.” I grumbled. “Let's go play another fun, fruitless round of 'try to find something edibleandincluded on our meal plan'.” I stood and all but vaulted the coffee table to get to the door. I grabbed my bag, turned the knob and found a moment of quiet in the deserted hallway.
How could he change so fast? One minute, he was there, a soothing warmth beside me. And then he was gone. Hard. Distant.“And so cold.”
“I'm not going to make it.” Hilda's voice filtered through the door. “I'd almost take on a second job to get something better. But I can only eat pizza so much.”
I can't change him or what he thinks. I can only change me.I took a deep breath. I held it, then let it out. I leaned my head back against the wall and took another long breath.
I closed my eyes against the darkness. It buzzed in the air like it was alive and trying to crush the air from my lungs. My heart raced. I lowered my forehead to my knees, and tried to calm the panting and gasping.There's air, I can breathe. Nothing here but Coop. It's ok. You're ok.
A surge of panic ripped through me. I held onto my knees and tried to form words. I needed him to talk. When he spoke, his deep voice . . . helped. “What classes will you take?” My voice rasped. “Your first semester?”
And then he was there, a small, steady light in the darkness. Like he was searching for me.
“Hilda's right.” I sighed and shut my eyes against the aching thump in my chest. “It's all in my head.”
But for a moment, he held my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Breslin POV
Iclosed the latch on the air vent and stepped down from Dotty's senior-rated step stool. “Ow.” I grimaced as I banged my elbow on the arched handle I forgot was there.
“You'll live.”
“Anything else?” I crossed my arms and met her gaze from across the room.
She held up a fluffy blue and white duster, on an extender arm. “Start at the top and work your way down.” She pointed at the top of her bookshelves, lining two entire walls of her living room.
I held back a groan and moved to take the duster. “No lemonade?”
“Oh sure. You want it fresh squeezed, too, Timmy?” She rolled her eyes and shuffled into her kitchenette.
“Thought I was Jack.” I groused at her and eyed the bookshelf. The lower shelves were all books, but the higher ones had some craft and knickknack-y things like Mom had at home. I extended the fluffed end of the duster and swiped at the top of the wood.
“I'll call you whatever I like, Mr. Cooper.” She called back. I shook my head and moved things from the top shelves to the base.
“You should be glad I didn't pick Susan.”
I glanced over my shoulder and found her pulling a pitcher from her refrigerator. She turned and poured something into a glass, then looked up. “Keep moving, or start talking. Those are your choices.”
I went back to dusting. Careful, methodical, it lacked the comfort of playing catch. I couldn't get lost in it, all I could think about was Milline's story, how close I came to kissing her—if it hadn't been for that running mouth of hers.
The way she'd fit against me when I'd accidentally . . . When I held her.
I sighed and rubbed the stringy, fluffy thing around a line of books.
“Great!” Dotty clapped her hands once. “Take a break. I poured filtered water just for you.”