Page 74 of Louder Than Words

I glance over my shoulder. “I love you, Allie. Now seriously—rest.”

She grins, barely keeping her eyes open. “I love you, too,” she murmurs back.

I quickly shut the light, and leave before she can try and stop me again.

My hand lingers on the doorknob as I turn—and freeze mid-step.

Desmond sits alone on the couch, left knee bouncing a mile a minute, and not a single person is in the room with him.

That’s what creeps me out the most—Desmond. Sitting still. Being quiet.

He’s James’s doppelgänger. Both of them have endless amounts of energy. No matter what. Where they get it from? No fucking idea. It’s like they feed off each other.

My eyebrows draw together as I glance around the room, half-expecting someone to pop out from behind the couch.

But there’s no one. Just silence.

Well, aside from the faint creak of Allie’s floorboards with every bounce of Desmond’s leg.

I cross the room and sink into the armchair beside him.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t even glance over. Just keeps staring down at his interlocked fingers.

“Everything alright, mate?” I ask, leaning forward, arms resting on my knees.

He gives a slow nod. “Yeah. Is… isAllieokay?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s just not feeling great,” I say. “Says the turkey didn’t sit right.”

He glances up, then looks away just as fast. “You don’t think it might’ve been what I said earlier?”

A knot tightens in my chest. Now it makes sense. Him being alone in the living room, looking guilty as hell. He was worried about Allie.

“No, I promise. She’s really just sick.”

He gives me a tight-lipped smile and nods. “Okay, good.”

I lean back, eyes still on him. “You were really this worried? About her?”

He finally looks up and shrugs. “Well, yeah. I mean, I really like you guys. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone—especially you or Allie.”

That knot in my chest? Tightens beyond belief.

I lean over, tapping Desmond’s knee before leaning back again. “We like you too, Dezzy,” I say with a smirk, knowing damn well I’m pushing his buttons.

He shoots me a sideways glance. “Yeah, I like you. But not enough for you to call me that,” he says with a snicker.

31

Allie

I knew the first day of court was going to suck.

The part I didn’t plan on, though? Puking every three minutes like clockwork.

Turns out, there is a limit to how much stress a body can handle, and I clearly hit mine sometime around Thanksgiving. Ever since, this has been my morning and nightly routine: hunched over the nearest toilet.

Spoiler alert: it’s not cute. Not even a little.