“You’ve probably never heard of it.”
“Try me.” Gwen has enlightened me in the world of romance books, even though I haven’t read many myself.
Her brows rise. “Fine. It’s calledWish Upon a Starby Moira Kensington.”
My eyes widen and I clear my throat.
“Have you heard of it?” Lily asks. “She’s a pretty small author, but I didn’t think?—”
“No. Never heard of it.” Gwen will KILL me if I let it slip.
“Well, her books aren’t like school books. I actually enjoy these.”
“The Count of Monte Cristoisn’t for school,” I retort. “It’s for fun.”
“Tell me again how a book that’s over a thousand pages is fun.”
“Trust me,” I say. “You’ll love it.”
She twists her lips to the side, and she’s so adorable I nearly poke her in the ribs to make her giggle, but then she holds out her hand with a huge smile and says, “Deal.”
I set the bracelet to the side and put her hand in mine for a shake, and instantly I’m brought back to the moment when I held her hand and listened to the music. Her hand fits so perfectly in mine. I thought she’d have a tiny hand, but her fingers are long and graceful, and they wrap around my palm, sending a buzz through my hand, up my arm, and into my chest.
She seems like she’s having a similar reaction, because her smile falls slightly as she holds my gaze, and I can see her pulse flutter in her delicate throat. She pulls her hand back, and her eyes dart back to the bracelet she was making. “I just need to tie this off, and then it’s done.”
“Same,” I say. We make quiet work of finishing our bracelets.
“Okay, show me yours,” Lily says a minute later.
I present her with a bracelet of varying shades of purple, with the wordsLily of the Tower. Her eyes light up as she takes it from me. “I love it! Thank you!” She slides it on her wrist, and I’m a little jealous that I didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to put it on her, touching her skin again.
“Here’s mine,” she says, her voice a little shy. She hands me a bracelet of entirely black beads.
“Excellent color choice,” I say. “What does it say,tough guy?” I turn the bracelet until I find the words:be still.
I’m silent for a moment as I process the words. She didn’t writestop movingorcalm down,which is what I was always told in school. Instead, it’sbe still.The words themselves soothe something in me.
Lily clears her throat. “I hope that wasn’t too intense orweird, I just thought it could be a good reminder of tonight, and?—”
“It’s perfect,” I say, sliding it on my wrist. “I love it. I couldn’t have thought of anything better.” I look back at her, and our gazes lock. There’s a layer of understanding between us that I haven’t experienced with anyone else. Does she feel it, too?
Suddenly, her eyes flick to the clock on the wall, then back to me. “You should probably go.”
I’m thrown off by her sudden turn, but who am I to protest? It’s her tower, after all. Actually, it’s her bedroom. So if she wants me out, I’ll leave, even if I’d happily stay here for hours, talking and hearing her laugh.
I stand and stretch my arms over my head. “I’ll come back tomorrow?” I ask, trying and failing to keep the hope from my voice.
She bites her lip, a worried look on her face. “Uh, yeah, sure.”
I grab my leather jacket from the couch and slide it on. “We can watchThe Count of Monte Cristo?” I ask, like a peace offering.
It works. She grins from ear to ear. “Sounds great. I’m gonna make sure you love it this time.”
I shift on my feet, trying to decide how I should say goodbye. A hug? Handshake? Salute? Wave and toss my legs over the balcony? Everything feels like too much or too little.
But Lily answers the question for me. She steps toward me and reaches one arm around my waist, giving me a friendly side-hug. She tilts her head up and looks at me. “Thanks for coming. It’s been…” Her eyes fill with emotion, and she swallows. “I’m really glad you came.”
I grin down at her. “I’m glad I came, too.”
