“Of course.”
“No, I only asked him because you two seem to have grown close. And he swore up and down that you two weren’t an item. When he heard my plan, he said he would come with me just in case you turned me down.”
“Your plan?”
“Yeah. There’s this thing at my parents’ country club.”
“I like things.” Mina rushed the words out, anticipating where the conversation was headed, then inwardly groaned at her childish answer.
Brody laughed. “I’m glad you like things. I like these things well enough, if someone I like is willing to go too.”
“And you think this person that you like would like going to this thing?” Mina asked coyly. She chuckled at their verbal game. Flirting with Brody Carmichael was thrilling.
“Yeah,” he breathed out softly, stepping closer. “That’s why I’m here. To ask this person that I like to go to this thing.”
“Oh, well, in that case, Nick is in the kitchen,” Mina teased, jumping back as Brody made a playful punch at her arm.
“That’s not funny,” Brody challenged.
“Yes, it was,” Mina laughed, “and you know it.”
Brody grinned and stepped closer. “Yeah, you’re right it was funny.”
When their laughter died down, she had a moment to contemplate. “But why?” Mina immediately hated herself for doubting his motives. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him, but more that she wanted to make sure he wasn’t under any Fae influence.
It was the wrong thing to say. His face fell, and he looked irritated. “If you don’t want to go, you can just say so.” He turned and left the library without another word. She wondered where he went until she heard the screen door slam.
“Crud.” Mina and rushed out after Brody into the rain. He was only a few feet off of the porch and had stopped in front of his black car. He looked forlorn and lost as the rain ran off of him. When he heard the door shut he turned to look at her. His face was a mirage of emotions—confusion, want, need. She rushed off the steps and went to him. Stopped within arms’ reach and watched him silently.
“It’s raining,” Brody said as if he just noticed it.
“Yeah, it is,” she answered. “I’m sorry for doubting your reasons. If the offer is still good, I would like to go with you.” She smiled, blinking through the rain.
Brody stepped closer, and she closed the distance. She almost leaned into him but caught herself at the last moment. He was standing closer than was appropriate as well, and they were both staring at each other. Neither one said anything, but her thoughts hung heavy in the air.
What are you thinking? Do you remember me…us?
Brody opened his mouth to say something, but closed it at the last second and shoved his hands in his pockets. She could see them balled into fists through the denim of his jeans. His smile dropped from his face and he looked irritated at himself.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, promptly forgetting to breathe.
“Nothing.” He shook his head.
“Okay then.” She turned and walked in the pouring rain back toward her dry porch. The storm seemed to have passed, but a strong, steady rain continued.
“No, that’s not true.” Brody ran after her.
Mina stopped and turned to look up at him.
The rain was pelting them, but he didn’t seem to care. “Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind? I have these dreams, recollections of events that I know deep down couldn’t have possibly happened. But then whenever I go to sleep, I remember everything—clear as day. I tell myself when I wake up, I’ll recall every detail—only I don’t.”
Mina stood there holding her breath, refusing to believe what she was hearing. “Yes, unfortunately that’s how dreams work. But they’re only dreams,” she said.
“Are they?” Brody looked at her sadly. He stared at her as if waiting for her to lay his worries to rest or give him answers he desperately needed.
She shivered at how close they were coming to the truth, and she so wanted to believe he remembered everything they’d shared.
But then she remembered Teague’s warning. He could hurt her friends. Was it really better if Brody didn’t know?
It couldn’t be. How many times could the Story mess with her friends’ memories without leaving permanent damage? “Why are you asking me about this?” She had to know.
This time it was Brody who shivered. “Because I dream about you. Every night, I dream of you…and me. Yet at school we act like strangers. But I know things about you I couldn’t possibly know. I know you hate the color red, hate being the center of attention. Love journaling, love Asian dumplings. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know.” She avoided looking at him. Afraid he’d see the truth in her eyes.