Free Little White Lies by Aimee Laine Page B

They jiggled in his hand as he searched for the right one.
    “You’re my ride, dude.” Stuart huffed a laughed. “I gotta. Uh … what about Leena?”
    “She’s with them.” As Wyatt’s car came into view, Stuart took a right. With two beeps, they opened the doors and slid into their seats. Before he could close his door, the call of his name took his attention.
    Julie stood on the red carpet.
    “Not now, Julz.” Wyatt gripped the wheel, turned to Stuart. “Ready?”
    “I’m with you, man.”
    Julie stood at the end of the path, turning her head as Wyatt backed out of the spot.
    Where did she go?
    “Home?” Stuart said out loud.
    “Can you read minds, man?” Wyatt turned a one-eighty to put wheels on the road.
    “Nah, just figured, if something were wrong with me, that’s where I’d go.”
    “Why’d she call them?” Wyatt pushed the car to sixty-five on roads meant for half.
    “Dunno, man.”
    What have I done? Tires squealed as Wyatt sped up Turner Point. The headlights did little to light his way beyond the curve. Stuart’s knuckles turned white as he held on to the door. Wyatt’s breath grew ragged.
    Left then right, right then left—no care for the possibility of a car in the other direction—he sped.
    The house loomed with a few lights.
    Wyatt jumped from the car, which shook as Stuart yanked the parking brake in place. Smooth-soled shoes slipped against the concrete before Wyatt ran to the front door.
    He rang the bell, pounded his fist. “Mira! Mira, it’s Wyatt!”
    Stuart caught up to him as the door opened.
    “What happened? Why did she leave? Where is she?” Wyatt tried to walk around Jack, who held his position in the frame, arms folded across his chest.
    “She can’t see you right now.”
    “Why?” Wyatt’s words burst forth. “Why not?” Fury coated his words.
    “She just can’t.” Jack’s voice held an unemotional calm. “And she’ll be gone tomorrow. I’m sorry, man.”
    “That’s shit!” Wyatt stormed away and back. “I want to see her now!” Fists at his sides, Wyatt raised himself to his full height and still didn’t reach Jack’s nose.
    He didn’t budge, but behind him, Leena peeked out.
    “Leena … where is she?” His resolve lost in the face of a friend, he softened and moved toward her.
    She snuck out from underneath Jack’s arms—still in her dress, feet bare. A walk to Wyatt, a hug and squeeze undid him. “I’m going with her tomorrow.” Leena pulled back, addressing both of them. “Like me, she just didn’t know how to say goodbye.” She dropped her eyes. “Sometimes …” She nodded and leaned in. “Sometimes things are just best left unsaid.” A red-painted toe dug at the tile.
    “But she told me she loved me.” Wyatt’s arms fell as desperation took hold.
    “And that makes it all the harder.” Leena drew one hand to his cheek. “She always will, too.” She placed a soft kiss where her hand had lain.
    “But I love her!” Wyatt’s anger fired rocket-like as he punched the air. “And I have this.” He pulled a small box from within his coat, held it out to Leena. “Will you—”
    “Keep it, Wyatt.” Leena pulled herself up to his shoulders. “And listen to me very carefully, okay?”
    He nodded, shocked at her abrupt change in temperament, her eyes seething hurt and fury.
    “Now is not the time.” She poked him in the chest with her index finger. “You will never see Mira again. But do not—and I repeat this—do not give this to anyone else. Ever.” She dropped her head. “Unless you are more than a hundred percent sure she is the right one. Got that?” her glare added to the pain her finger offered while she dug into his chest.
    He nodded. How would I know? It didn’t matter. He’d toss the box in a drawer and forget about it. Wyatt nodded at her with more conviction than ran through him.
    Leena pursed her lips. “Good then. Take care, Wyatt.” She squeezed his shoulders and walked to Stuart, offering