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Astrid whirled around at the sound of Jordan’s voice. She had a bottle of beer in her hand, and her eyes were on Astrid.

“Yeah,” Astrid said. “Iris is anything but subtle.”

Jordan laughed as she made her way toward her. “I gathered as much.”

Astrid turning with her as they both faced the rainbow. Their shoulders brushed and Astrid felt herself loosen, something that seemed to happen naturally around Jordan Everwood. By all accounts, Astridshouldbe tightening up. Jordan made her first-crush nervous, and all she wanted to do around the other woman was giggle and make out, which was a stress-inducing identity crisis in and of itself.

So, yes, Astrid had plenty of reasons to lock up right now.

Instead, she all but melted at the feel of Jordan’s body heat radiating into her arm.

“Do you like to read?” Jordan asked her, plucking a colorful paperback from the shelves—a romance, by the looks of the entwined couple with very little clothing on the cover—and reading the back.

“Yeah, I do,” Astrid said. “I don’t have much time lately, but when I was a kid, I read a lot.”

Jordan put the book back and turned to face her fully. “What sort of books did you like?”

Astrid thought back, remembering how much she swooned over Gilbert Blythe, how her heart would beat faster when Darcy and Lizzie verbally sparred, the giddy excitement she felt when finishing one of the steamy romances her babysitter used to forget in the couch cushions.

Oh, how Isabel would’ve hated those racy novels, had she known about them.

“Romance, mostly,” Astrid said.

Jordan’s brows shot upward. “Really.”

Astrid laughed. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“I am surprised. I thought you’d be into—”

“Whatever you’re about to say, just don’t.” Astrid took a sip of wine, made sure she was smiling, but Jesus Christ, if Jordan said she assumed Astrid enjoyed the likes ofHeart of Darknessor some other depressing white man literary shit, she’d throw her glass against the wall right now.

Jordan mimed zipping her lips, but smiled. “So tell me more about young Astrid Parker.”

“Like what?”

Jordan shrugged. “Well, I know she liked romance novels. She had a very involved mother.”

Astrid snorted. “An understatement.”

Jordan’s eyes narrowed softly. “What did she dream about?”

Astrid reared back, surprised. “Dream about?”

“Yeah. I mean, what did you dream your life would be like? Me, I wanted to be a Disney singer when I grew up.”

A laugh flew out of Astrid’s mouth. “A Disney singer.”

“You laugh in the face of my dream?” Jordan placed her free hand on her chest. “I’ll have you know, my grandmother said my living room dance routine to ‘Part of Your World’ was the best she’d ever seen or heard.”

Astrid laughed even harder. “So you sing?”

Jordan winked. “That talent—or lack thereof—I reserve for my inner circle, so you’d have to torture my brother into submission for the truth.”

Astrid rolled her eyes, but something like longing rose in her chest, which she promptly shook off.

“How’d you get into carpentry?” Astrid asked.

“My dad bought me one of those kid’s tool kits when I was ten. I was immediately hooked. Smashing shit with a hammer? I was in.”