"Yeah, well." I settle beside her, careful to leave space between us. "Had to give the people what they want. But don't tell anyone I have feelings. I have a reputation to maintain."
Her laugh is quiet, almost sad. "Your secret's safe with me."
I stare at the lanterns strung from trees, pretending everything between us hasn't shifted.
"Looks like Virginia and Jefferson finally figured their shit out." I gesture toward the barn.
"Sometimes you have to make the same mistake a few times before it sticks." There's an edge buried in her tone that makes me study her profile more closely. She's got that faraway look she gets when she's reading too much into things.
The silence stretches, and for the first time in a decade of friendship, I can't find a way to fill it.
"Are we okay?" I hate how uncertain my voice sounds.
"Of course." But something flickers across her face. "We'll go home and everything goes back to normal.
Right.Normal.As if the past few days haven't been some alternate reality. One of those spring break flings that seem real under the sun and the booze, but dissolves the second you get home. Except I knew better. And Ivy . . . shit, she's my best friend, and she's not some girl looking for some temporary wedding-fueled distraction.
God, I'm sucha fucking idiot.
I shouldn't have touched her like that. Never should've kissed her back. Led her on when all I can handle is meaningless hook-ups and keeping shit simple. Someday I will want more. But not now. I'm not ready, and I let this weird wedding proximity mess with my head.
Damnit.Not like I can tell her to justwait.
Now everything's weird, and I've got this sick feeling in my gut that nothing will ever be the same when we go back.
"Oh!" Her voice brightens with forced cheer. "Amelia's already playing matchmaker. Apparently, there's this guy in her pottery class who's 'absolutely perfect' for me."
My stomach twists. "Yeah?"
"Mhmm. Though knowing Amelia's track record, he probably has a man bun and a weird hobby." She tucks hair behind her ear. "Also . . . don't freak out, but Daphne's coming back."
"What?"
"Thought I'd give you a heads up, before you run into her next week." She won't quite meet my gaze. "Just . . . don't tell James yet."
"He should know—"
"Please?" She turns her pretty eyes on me. "Let them sort it out on their own time"
"Fine."
A small smile tugs at her lips. "You could drag him out for drinks? Talk some sense into him. God knows those two need to finally figure their stuff out."
I nod, because she's not wrong. A shiver runs through her, and I'm already shrugging off my jacket on instinct. She accepts with a "thanks," and we fall into silence.
The stars wheel overhead, and I wonder if she's finding meaning in them the way she always does with everything else. Searching the cosmos for signs about why whatever we knocked loose this week won't fall back into place.
Music drifts out from the reception, some slow song that adds weight to the night. Ivy's fingers play with the too-long sleeves of my jacket, and I catch the slight tremor in them.
"This week was fun," she says, like we just got back from a beach trip instead of . . . whatever the hell that was.
"Yeah." I lean against the railing. "Virginia and Jefferson made it interesting."
"Sometimes people surprise you."
I grunt, because what else is there to say? Tomorrow we'll be back in Hallow's End, back to our careful routines. Back to me doing what I do best—different girl every weekend, no strings, no complications. The way it should be.
"We should head back," she says, already sliding off the wall. "Before Kristal sends a search party."
