Read Online Dissonance by Erica O’Rourke - Free Book Online

trailed after him as he crossed the street. This version of downtown was miles better than the one we’d left. The sidewalks were clean, the storefronts filled, even if they weren’t quite as upscale as home—a hardware store instead of an art gallery, a pawn shop instead of an antique store, a pharmacy instead of a yoga studio. The street was lined with cars, and plenty of people chatted on the sidewalk. Monty made sure to brush against one as he entered the store, so he was now fully visible. Outside the bakery, a dog was tied to the armrest of a bench. A chocolate Lab. With a red bandana.
    â€œIggy?” I whispered. Echoes often overlapped, but seeing Iggy so soon after watching him unravel was as jarring as any frequency I’d encountered.
    His answering barks shook the windows, and he leaped up, straining at the leash.
    I blinked. Some animals’ hearing was so sensitive, they couldrecognize Walkers before we made contact. Iggy was obviously one of them.
    â€œGood boy,” I crooned, inching forward with my hand extended. “What are you doing here?”
    As if in answer, the bakery door opened and Simon strolled out, white paper bag in hand. A different Simon, I reminded myself, taking in the layers of flannel and denim and leather, the messy hair, the battered work boots. Not a basketball in sight.
    â€œSettle down,” he said, untying the leash. The dog bolted, seventy-odd pounds of enthusiastic fur crashing into me. I rubbed his silky ears, staring at my third Simon in two days, trying to recall Park World’s frequency. This one was less grating—and much more stable. My stomach unclenched at the knowledge this Simon was safe. I didn’t think I could handle seeing him unravel again.
    He grabbed Iggy’s collar, his hand brushing mine. The strength of his signal sent me reeling, and he met my eyes, interest sparking in his own. “You’re making me look bad, Ig.”
    Not much made Simon look bad. Even his legion of exes sighed and talked about his eyes or his hands or his laugh. He wasn’t the type to stick, they said, but it was fun while it lasted.
    I was not interested in fun.
    â€œIggy won’t bite, I promise,” Simon said, misinterpreting my frozen silence. I looked at his hand, wrapped around the leash. Instead of the leather cuff or digital watch, he wore what looked like a silver railroad spike hammered into a circle around his wrist. But his hands looked the same, strong andcapable and slightly calloused. “Don’t I know you?”
    My nerves kicked up, a swarm of butterflies spreading from my stomach through my body, a hundred thousand wings beating in unison.
    â€œDel,” I said, my voice scratchy. “School, maybe?”
    â€œMaybe,” he said. “Or maybe I need to get my eyes checked.”
    â€œOh?” I asked, checking the bakery. Through the window, I could see Monty peering at the pastry cases.
    Simon’s voice dropped, warm and inviting. “Something must be wrong if I haven’t noticed you.”
    I turned back. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”
    At home I would have stuttered and stumbled. It was easier to deal with him here, when it wasn’t real and didn’t matter. His smile turned rueful and somehow even more charming. “Too obvious?”
    â€œYou’re not going to win any points for originality. What are you doing here?”
    â€œIt’s Thursday,” he said, holding up the white paper bag. “My night to make dinner. I always pick up cookies for my mom, to make up for the inevitable kitchen disaster.”
    â€œYou could learn to cook,” I pointed out.
    â€œI don’t mind,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, if I hadn’t stopped by, I wouldn’t have run into you.”
    There was an Echo where he hadn’t, and I was unreasonably, alarmingly happy to be in this world instead.
    â€œThere’s a band playing at