A grandfather clock in the living space dinged low and loud, striking at the hour—a half hour past when Bells promised she’d be there.
Winter blew out a sigh, longingly looking at the pizza on the edge of the still-warm oven. After fifteen minutes, Will had set it there so it wouldn’t get cold. An irritating itch ran over his skin, and he hmphed as well. If Bells made it so his dinner wasn’t up to his standards, he was gonna have more than a few words with her. Impressing Winter had suddenly become his top priority for this evening. After sticking his foot so far down his throat with mentioning Penelope, he was eager to put a genuine smile back on her face.
“Bells is always late to everything,” he said light-heartedly, but both Winter and his hunger were getting the best of them. He pulled his phone from his pocket and held it near his face. “You mind?”
“Please,” she said, slumping onto the table. “The smell is going to kill me if I don’t get to taste it soon.”
He chuckled and slid his finger around his screen. Where are you? he texted. Then he set the phone on the beautiful reclaimed wood table they were sitting at.
They both sat in hungry silence, waiting for his phone to buzz. A few times Will had thought it was vibrating against the table, but the sound was only his stomach rumbling.
“They better be making out somewhere,” Winter said, not a pinch of humor in her voice. If Will wasn’t so hungry himself, he’d appreciate how passionate she was about food.
He picked his phone up again and tapped Bells’ name. It rang three times into his ear before she answered.
“H-hey. Sorry. Just eat without me.”
His brows shot up, and he slowly rose from his seat. “Y’all okay?”
“I… Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure don’t sound like it.”
There was a pause, and Will’s eyes met Winter’s, her brow pulled tightly together, making that cute wrinkle pop above her nose. She mouthed, “Everything okay?” And Will lifted his shoulders and a finger.
“You in the room?” he asked. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“No,” Bells blurted. “I’m fine, ya hear? Just eat your dinner. I’ll talk to you in the mornin’.”
She hung up before he could argue, and Will brought the phone down and stared at the screen. If he was a selfish person, he’d definitely ignore the slight rise in Bells’ voice, the breathiness like she’d been cryin’, and sit on down and enjoy a meal with the woman he was growing attached to. But he reminded himself that he wasn’t there to get shot with Cupid; he was there for Bells.
“Hey, I think I’d better—”
“Of course, yeah…” Winter pushed up from her seat and started gathering the breadsticks and marinara. “Let me pack this up so you can have it in your room.”
“You don’t gotta do—”
“Shh… yes I do.” She scurried through the kitchen, trying and failing to find anything to pack up the food. Will’s mouth twitched, and he went over to help.
“Sorry ‘bout this,” he said as he wrapped up a couple slices in aluminum.
“Is she okay? Was it Garreth?” Her eyes got serious, and she slammed a fist into her palm. “Do I need to have a talk with him?”
A gut-filled laugh spilled from his lips. “Not sure yet, but I’ll let ya know.”
She filled his arms up with food and rushed him to the door. His brain left momentarily when she set a hand on his upper back and pushed.
“You just wanna eat, don’t you?” he said through a laugh. “Soon as I’m gone you’re attacking the other half of that.” He nodded to the pizza sitting on the counter.
“That’s only part of why I’m rushing you out,” she said, her smile wide and beautiful. “But you bet your butt I’m more worried about Bells.”
Warmth spread through him at the fact that she’d called his sister by her preferred name. It felt personal, like she truly cared about this stranger.
He turned on the spot, wanting to give her a hug, thank her for a night that had felt like home, but with his hands full, he just ended up staring awkwardly.
She laughed and squeezed herself up against his side instead. “Goodnight, Will.”
“’Night, Princess,” he teased.
“I think I like the other nickname better.”
He raised an eyebrow. Had he called her something else? He honestly couldn’t remember, and that made his heart beat double time. Maybe he’d felt more at home than even he’d originally thought.
Will lay on the plush couch in his and Bells’ suite, staring up at the ceiling. He’d no idea what time it was; it was late. The pizza he’d made for everyone tonight sat on the counter in the small suite’s kitchen, probably questionable to eat. He’d sent a few more texts when he didn’t find Bells in the room, but she hadn’t responded at all. Sleep wasn’t comin’ easy either, and it wasn’t entirely because of his sister.
There was this feeling he couldn’t ignore, one he never thought he’d feel in the middle of the frosty north.
He called it “Sunday mornin’,” something his momma would say a lot. That feeling of knowing you got a whole day off in front o’ ya, but being unable to enjoy it because you got work—or at the time, school—the following morning.
He’d be packing up to leave on early Saturday to make the long trip back home. The second he’d gotten to Frostville he’d been counting down the days with a sense of excitement. Now the thought of leaving in less than forty-eight hours had his mouth turning down in the corners.
He tilted his head at the dark ceiling, the shadows creating the shape of an arrow piercing a heart. He was losing his dang mind.
The sound of the doorknob cut through the room, and he sat up, crossing his arms and putting on his protective brother look. Bells slid inside, holding the doorknob as she closed the door.
“Hey,” he said, and she jumped back into the door, holding a hand up to her chest.
“Gosh, don’t do that.”
He strode over, flicking on the light. Bells’ red, puffy eyes had his anger melting right into concern. “What happened tonight, Bells?”
She tried to smile, but it was incredibly strained. “I think I wanna go home.”
He jolted back. “What?”
Her back straightened, determination setting in her jaw. “Yes. I think it’s time to go home.” She pushed past him and went right to her room. When Will shook free from his shock, he followed. She was already halfway through stuffing her first suitcase.
“Wait… Bells…”
“If you want, I’ll say it, William. I’ll say it, even though it’ll kill me.” She shook a pair of stockings at him before tossing them in next to a red skirt. “You were right. This place is a joke. And I’m a silly woman who actually thought that Eros or Cupid or whatever his name is was gonna shoot me in the butt and change my life.”
“Weren’t things going well with Garreth?”
She threw him a look like he deserved a dunce cap, staying silent as she chucked another item of clothing in the suitcase.
“It don’t matter, anyhow. You wanted to leave, and now I’m sayin’ let’s go. So let’s go.”
He rubbed his chest, his thoughts a maze of reasons to stay. All he had to do was land on one. “Don’t ya want to see who the murderer is?”
She snorted, bending over to start on her second suitcase.
“What about the ball? There’s a ball or somethin’, right? You wanna go to that, I know ya do.”
“Not anymore.” A shoe went flying across the room, landing sloppily on the bed. “That’ll just make things even messier.”
His head tilted, but he knew she wouldn’t elaborate, so he kept going. “But didn’t you promise Winter you’d do her hair?”
She paused, hand poised in the air as she held a heel like a weapon. Her eyes were big and lost, like she couldn’t excuse her way out of that one. Bingo.
“She’s been excited,” he continued. “And it’d be good for you, yeah? Maybe she could recommend you to some of those famous people you want to style for.”
Bells breathing slowed, a watery wall coming up in her eyes. Panic gripped Will’s stomach, holding on for all it was worth. What was he thinkin’? He wanted to go home. He loved Alabama, couldn’t wait to sit in the sun and toss pizzas for a crowd and sleep in his own bed. Over and over again he’d told himself he was only in Frostville for Bells, and now she wanted to go. It was his out.
But that Sunday morning feeling wrapped around him like a blanket, and he desperately wanted Bells to give him these last couple days.
“Yeah,” she said after a minute. “I did promise her…”
“Maybe sleep on it,” he suggested. “You may change your mind after you’ve slept.”
“I won’t.” She slumped onto the bed, her suitcases jostling with the movement. She buried her face into her palms.
Will tentatively took a step toward her. “What happened?”
She just shook her head hard, keeping her face hidden. He let out a sigh and plopped down next to her. His arm found her shoulder, and he pulled her in, tucking her head under his chin.
“A’right,” he said, admitting defeat. If she didn’t wanna tell him, he wasn’t gonna force her. But he sure was gonna give her a shoulder to cry on.
After a few minutes, she lifted her head. “I’ll stay.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “I promised. But I want to leave first thing on Saturday.”
“You got it.”
A victorious flag waved in his chest, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Had he convinced her to stay for her? Or had he just done it for him?