Chapter 24

I don’t move.

Not even a twitch.

The phone is still pressed to my cheek like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to Earth. My robe is half-slipped off my shoulder, my toes are pointed dramatically in my sparkly flip-flops, and I’m 90% sure my heart is performing Swan Lake inside my chest.

For one brief, deranged second, I think it might be Theo.

That he’ll say something stupid and British like, “Hey, Sticky, sorry I vanished. Got abducted by MI6,” and then I’ll cry and scream and probably fall in love again.

“…Hello?” I repeat, softer this time. The breeze from the poolside flutters the hem of my robe, but I barely register it.

A pause. Then, “Char?”

The voice is familiar in the way that mold in your shower is familiar, gross, clinging, impossible to fully get rid of.

Monty, of course it’s him.

I roll my eyes so hard I nearly dislocate something. “Monty,” I sigh, letting his name slither out like an old curse.