“Speaking of recovering, how’s the dating life?”
I huff a sardonic laugh. “I’ve kind of given up, for now at least.”
“Probably good to take a break, right?”
I nod. “I guess. It was getting old scrolling through matches like I’m looking for something.” I pause, then shrug. “I don’t even know what, though. Validation? Proof I’m still capable of wanting someone?” I sigh… Or maybe just a reminder that wanting someone and being loved doesn’t always have to hurt. I guess, in hindsight, I’m probably not going to find that on apps.
“Well, if you want a distraction, I was hoping you were done with classes for the day.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Retail therapy,” she says, already packing up the leftover snacks. “And maybe ice cream. Possibly both at the same time. Let’s spend twenty minutes convincing ourselves that cute earrings and raspberry sorbet will fix everything.”
A reluctant smile tugs at my mouth. “And if they don’t?”
“Then we go back to my place, and you can get cuddles from Rosie, she fixes everything.”
She does, she’s right.
“Lucky for you, I am free all afternoon, and I’ve been meaning to go shopping. I need to get some bedding for when my new bed is delivered.”
We fold the blanket, stuff wrappers into her bag, and walk side by side across campus, the sun hanging lower now, the breeze picking up. By the time we reach the main street, we’ve traded silence for comfortable chatter—talking about classes and how Hudson’s first season is going. An hour in and out of shops and I’ve managed to find a few more gym outfits at least, but no bedding yet.
“So,” Daphne says, nudging me again, “no more Daddy or husband incidents with Jay? He hasn’t said a word to Hudson if there have been.”
I snort, knowing I’ll probably never live that down. “Everything’s fine.”
She arches a brow. “That was the least convincing ‘fine’ I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s just… normal roommate stuff.” I wave her off.
“Oh my god, you have a face.”
“I do not. This is my normal face.”
“Olivia!”
“Daphne!”
“That”—she points at me—“Olivia Grace Matthews, is your crush face. Same one you had over Logan in eighth grade when he lent you a pencil. Same one you had over Brett, Riley, Drake, Wrex, Porter—”
I groan. “Okay, I get it, the list is long. But this is different.” I can’t have a crush on him.
“Mhm.” She bumps my shoulder, still smiling. “Just admit it. You’ve got a little thing for your roommate.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me. And maybe him, too, one day.”
“Not happening, Daphne. Keep on dreaming.”
I know my face is pink because I feel the heat, but I definitely don’t have an unmanageable crush on my roommate; it’s totally manageable. I can handle it and resist my ass off. Slutty glasses be damned.
“Whatever you say.”
I roll my eyes and look anywhere but her smug grin, which is probably why I catch the movement in the shop window.
Daphne takes a few more steps before she notices I’m no longer beside her. “Liv?”
