She plops the box on the counter, grinning. “You’re glowing.”
“It’s called morning light.”
“It’s calledmy brother kissed your emotional stability right in the face.”
“He didn’t kiss anything,” I say, and she raises an eyebrow so high it could pierce clouds.
“Didn’t have to,” she says. “You look like a woman who’s been thoroughly eye-fucked.”
“Language,” I hiss even though she’s not wrong.
She laughs, pouring herself coffee like she owns the place. “You forget, I’ve been married to Dean for long enough to recognize the post-slow-burn look. It’s adorable. You’re doomed.”
Before I can argue, her phone buzzes on the counter, and she flips it toward me. Ivy’s name flashes across the screen, along with approximately seventeen heart emojis.
Lila grins. “Speak of the glamorous devil.” She taps Accept. “Morning, superstar. You’re on speaker with the emotionally constipated one.”
Ivy’s voice floods the shop like sunshine and chaos. “Hi, my favorite book witch! Why are you emotionally constipated? Did Crew finally remember how to use his words?”
“Goodbye,” I say, reaching for the phone. Lila dances away like a mischievous toddler.
Ivy gasps theatrically. “Wait—hewas there last night, wasn’t he? Lila said she saw him leaving the lighthouse.”
“I’m surrounded by spies,” I mutter. Sometimes I have to remind myself that even though Ivy and Crew were a PR relationship a few years ago, she’s happily married to Crew’s brother.
Lila smirks. “Small towns are basically social media with better pie.”
Ivy hums. “So… did he apologize?”
“Yes,” I say carefully. “He apologized.”
“And?”
“Andnothing, Ivy. We talked. Like adults.”
The silence lasts for approximately two seconds before they both burst into laughter.
“You two talking like adults is about as believable as me retiring to a farm,” Ivy says. “You’re both one shared glance away from spontaneous combustion.”
“Not helping,” I mutter.
Lila sips her coffee, her tone suddenly softer. “Bailey, he looks at you like he’s been starving.”
My chest tightens. “He looked at me like that in high school, too. Right before he didn’t defend me and went on to laugh at me with his friends.”
Lila winces. “People change.”
“Sometimes they don’t,” I say, quieter this time.
Ivy’s voice gentles through the speaker. “You know, Crew’s not the same guy who laughed with the team. He’s the guy who left fame to come home and rebuild something broken. Sounds like a man who’s learning.”
I pick at the edge of a muffin wrapper. “Maybe. Or maybe he just got good at pretending.”
Lila leans across the counter, eyes sharp and kind. “Or maybe you’re scared because the only thing more terrifying than him breaking your heart again is himnotdoing it this time.”
I hate that she’s right. I hate even more that she knows it.
Ivy claps once. “Okay! That’s enough emotional honesty for one morning. Bailey, go sell some books. Lila, go kiss your billionaire husband. I’m hanging up before I start writing a song about it.”
