“You only have one sister.”
“Which makes you my favorite by default.”
She arches an eyebrow at me, unimpressed. “Flyn.”
Damn it. Caught.
I let out a breath and lean against the counter, running a hand through my hair. I probably could’ve kept it to myself, but honestly? I kind of want to tell someone. And Cara, well, she’s earned the right to hear it first.
“Alright,” I admit, grinning despite myself. “I saw Jade last night.”
Cara pauses mid-icing swipe. Her eyes widen just a fraction before she catches herself and tries to play it cool. “Jade?” she echoes. “As inJadeJade?”
“The very same.”
“The Jade you wouldn’t shut up about, then mysteriously stopped mentioning like he never existed?”
I wince. “Okay, when you put it like that…”
“Flyn.” She abandons the cloth and plants both hands on her hips. “Tell me everything. Right now.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. Full, warm, from-the-chest laugh that feels like it’s been waiting to get out all morning.
“It wasn’t supposed to be a date,” I start, untangling another streamer and slinging it over the curtain rod. “We said it upfront, just two old friends catching up. No pressure.”
“But?”
“But it felt like more.” I glance sideways at her, my grin going soft around the edges. “Itwasmore.”
Cara’s face does this thing, this sort of half-smirk, half-oh-brother expression she saves for moments exactly like this. She wipes her hands on a tea towel and leans on the counter, clearly settling in for the story.
I don’t make her wait.
“We met at that little Italian on the High Street, you know, the one with the candles and the world’s most seductive wine list?” I say. “He arrived not long after I did. Same hoodie he always used to wear at the office, like comfort armor. And I swear, Cara, the moment I saw him… boom.” I snap my fingers. “Like no time had passed at all.”
I draw in a hasty breath. “I mean, we had run into each other the day before and grabbed a quick coffee, but this was different. This felt like so muchmore.”
Cara’s expression softens. “You really missed him.”
“Yeah,” I say, quieter now. “I did.”
I tell her about the conversation, how it started light, easy, with old stories and half-teasing jabs, like slipping into a favorite old jacket. How somewhere between the second glass of wine and the laugh he gave when I told him about my disastrous attempt at sourdough baking, it stopped feeling like a casual catch-up and started feeling like gravity.
“And the way he looked at me, Cara,” I say, shaking my head like I still can’t quite believe it. “Like I was the only person in the room. Like he was seeing me and not just... I dunno. The mess I am sometimes.”
Her eyes go a little glossy, but she blinks it away fast. “You always were a sucker for that kind of thing.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“So?” She nudges my shoulder with hers. “Did you kiss him?”
I laugh, a little embarrassed, a little thrilled. “No. Thought about it, though. About a hundred times. But I didn’t want to rush it. I didn’t want to scare him off.”
Cara tilts her head, studying me like she’s seeing something new. “You like him.”
“Of course I do.”
“No, I mean youreallylike him. Like... more than just a bit of fun.”
