“Are you okay?” I take a step toward her.
She nods. “It’s just…they know I’m not leaving Rebel. When you get a chance to work for the Grays, everyone will know it means we have to break up.” She shrugs, looking at my chin instead of directly at me. “It’s happened before.”
This is the first time I’ve seen Nora look anything less than bright and shiny. I don’t like it.
“We could tell them—” I start.
“You’ll leave, we’ll break up,” she interrupts. “That’s just how it will be. We don’t have to tell them anything.”
Well, that seems simple enough. I get to hang out with and kiss Nora Delaune a bunch for the next seven months, then leave to work for the Grays, with everyone here disappointed but understanding.
“Great. So this is casual,” I say.
She nods. “Yep. When people ask us, we say we’re just having fun.”
“People won’t mind me just messing around with their favorite girl?”
Nowshe looks at me. Her pupils dilate, and I hope it’s because she’s thinking of all the ways she wants me to mess around with her. I certainly am.
“If I’m happy, they’ll be happy,” she says simply.
“Then I guess I’ll have to try hard to make you happy.”
Something flickers in her eyes, but she reiterates, “In public. When other people are watching. Butweknow it’s fake. And I really think that as you get involved with the team and show the town how much fun all of this is going to be, they will like you for that. For hockey.”
That jabs me in the chest. I have spent my life being liked because of hockey. I’m used to that. It’s my comfort zone. I should want that. It’s far easier than dating everyone’s favorite person. There are a million ways I could screw this up. I don’t screw up hockey.
Still, I say, “Oh, Nora, I’m going to date thehellout of you.”
CHAPTER 6
NORA
“Nora!”
“Hi, honey!
“Hey, Nora!”
“Hi, sweetheart!”
I smile and greet everyone as I make my way from the door to the coffee counter at Perks and Rec.
Whenever I walk in here, everyone acts like it’s been weeks since they’ve seen me, and it always makes me smile. Truth is, I was here for breakfast just this morning. As I am every single morning. And, of course, my stop by with Alex this afternoon.
I would’ve been here earlier this evening for dinner if I hadn’t made a quick side trip to New Orleans that put me behind a couple of hours on my schedule.
But now all of the wildflowers are in the community center, laid out to dry so the art club can use them, I finished up the rest of my to-do list—at least for today—and I finally showered and cleaned up.
I glance surreptitiously toward the stairs leading to Alex’s apartment as I slide up onto the stool between two of my best friends at the counter.
I know he’s not there. He’s still at practice. Still, I am hoping to run into him because, as much as I never worry about how I look, it’s been bugging the crap out of me that he met me, and agreed to be my boyfriend—myfakeboyfriend—when I was in overalls with mud all over me and stems and petals in my hair.
I’m now wearing a blue sundress that hits me just above the knees and features wide straps that crisscross over my shoulder blades. I’m in tennis shoes again, but these are white…and clean. And then at the last minute, I also added a bracelet and necklace set. They are tiny blue and white flowers linked together by their stems.
I’ve considered taking them off about twelve times since I got in the car. It’s silly. Just because he called me wildflower…
Fuck. Itisridiculous and really obvious, and I should definitely take them off.
