I don’t know how to answer that. I mean, if I try to pretend it’s from Uncle Finn, she’ll just ask him about it and find out the truth. If I tell her it’s from someone else, she’s going to want to know who sent it, and I’m not sure I’m ready to tell her. I kind of like the idea of this Jaxon—the one who tells me vampire jokes and sends me waffles with fresh whipped cream—as my secret. At least for a little while.
But the look on Macy’s face says she’s not about to be put off. And that she’s got a pretty good idea of where the food came from, even though I haven’t answered her yet.
Which leaves me with only one option, really. A downplayed version of the truth. “It’s really no big deal, okay? My ankle’s bothering me, and he was trying to help.”
“Flint?” she asks, eyes wide. “Or Jaxon?” She says the last in a whisper.
“Does it matter?” I ask.
“Oh my God! It was Jaxon! He talked Chef Janie into making you waffles. I didn’t even know that was possible—she’s really tough. Then again, if anyone could do it, Jaxon could. I mean, the boy is terrifyingly efficient. And he always gets what he wants.” She grins. “And I’m pretty sure what he wants right now is you.”
A knock sounds from behind her, and I’ve never been more relieved to have someone come to my door in my life. “Can you get that? My ankle still hurts.”
“Of course! I want first crack at interrogating Jaxon anyway.”
“It’s not going to be Jaxon,” I tell her, but just the idea that it could be has my palms sweating a little. I sit up straighter, try desperately to fix the mess that is currently my hair as Macy opens the door.
Looks like the panic was for nothing, though, because it isn’t Jaxon. It’s a woman, carrying a large yellow envelope.
I tell myself I’m not disappointed, even as the sudden butterflies in my stomach kind of fall back down with a thud. At least until the woman, who Macy calls Roni, hands her the package. “I’m supposed to deliver this to Grace.”
Macy whips her head around to look at me even as she takes the large envelope being thrust into her hands. Her eyes are huge, but I can’t blame her. I’m sure mine are just as big.
I don’t know what else Macy says to Roni to get her out of our room, because every ounce of my attention is focused on the envelope in her hands. And my name written on the front of it in the same bold scrawl that was on the earlier note.
“Give me!” I practically beg as I push myself to my feet. My ankle still hurts, but for this, I’m willing to suffer.
Except Macy is in full mother-hen mode, apparently. “Sit back down!” she squawks as she shoos me back to bed.
“Give me the envelope!” I make grabby hands at it.
“I’ll give it to you as soon as you’re back in bed with your ankle on that pillow.”
And then she glares at me, standing just out of reach, until I do what she says.
But the second I’m settled, the stern look goes away and the stars come back to her eyes. She thrusts the envelope at me and practically yells, “Open it, open it, open it!”
“That’s what I’m doing!” I tell her as I tear at the seal. It’s one of those plastic Bubble Wrap ones, so it’s harder than it should be, but eventually I get it open.
And out falls a large black library book.
“What is it?” Macy climbs on the bed next to me in an effort to get a better look.
“I don’t know,” I answer. But then I turn it over and…it’s totally the last book I ever would have expected him to send.
“Twilight? He sent me a copy of Twilight?” I turn to Macy in confusion.
Macy gasps as she stares from the book to me. And then she starts to laugh. And laugh. And laugh.
And I guess it’s kind of funny…the idea that a guy like Jaxon would send a girl a paranormal romance, but I don’t think it’s nearly as amusing as Macy is making it out to be. Plus, I’ve always kind of wanted to read it, to see what all the fuss was about all those years ago.
“I like it,” I tell her a little defiantly. Because I do—almost as much as I like the fact that Jaxon took the time to pick it out for me.
“I do, too,” Macy says around another fit of giggles. “I swear. It’s super…charming, actually.”
“I agree.” I open the front cover, and my heart stutters as I see the small Post-it note stuck to the cover page. In the scrawl I’m rapidly coming to recognize as Jaxon’s is this quote from the novel: “I said it would be better if we weren’t friends, not that I didn’t want to be.”