Page 100 of Louder Than Words

Because she’ll always have me. Whether she asks for space or wants me to crowd her.

Always.

40

Allie

“Don’t make me force-feed you, Allie,” Ana calls from my doorway.

I grab the nearest pillow and pull it over my head, pressing it down over my ears.

Is this childish? Absolutely.

Do I particularly care right at this moment? That’s a hard no.

The pillow does a terrible job, though. Ana yanks it off my head the second she steps closer, along with the blanket that had been clinging to my tired body like a second skin.

I sit up too fast, and the room tilts dangerously. “Ana, come on,” I groan. “I’m not ready to get up yet.”

She pops her hip. Crosses her arms. And then finally, gives me the stern look, eyebrow raised to show just how much she doesn’t care about me wanting to wither away in the comfort of my own bed. Alone.

“Allie, I love you, but it’s beenfourdays,” she says. “You seriously need to get up. Shower. Eat food. You remember food, right?” She tosses the pillow back at me.

I catch it and hug it tightly to my chest. “I ate something earlier,” I mutter, absolutely lying through my teeth.

She cocks her head, eyeing me with a mix of concern and like she sees right through my bullshit. Her eyes sweep across the room, brows pulling together when they land on mine again. “Wait… where’s Jax?”

The question feels more like a punch to the gut. The memory of his face flashes in my mind, the way he looked when I asked him to leave, and I blink fast, trying to push it down.

“He’s in Boston,” I mumble with a shrug.

Ana blinks. “Boston? What do you mean? Were they called in for an interview? Did he say when he was coming back?”

Her questions come too fast, too loud, and way too early in the morning.

I stammer, trying to figure out where to even start with her million and one questions.

God I need coffee.

I press my fingers into my temples. “I asked him to go. Just for a few days—”

Her face drops. “I’m sorry,you did what?”

A sigh falls from my lips, and I let my hand fall into my lap. “I asked him to go. It’s not permanent, Ana—just for a few days.”

Then she rips the blankets, pillows, everything off of me at once.

I stare at her, my mouth hanging open.

“Get. Up.” Her voice is low and firm. Scary firm.

I’ve seen Ana upset, sure. I’ve even seen her annoyed.

But in all our years of friendship, I’veneveronce seen her mad.

And right now? She’s pissed.

“Wait—” I start.