“Yes,” I say brightly. “Friendsgiving! Let’s talk about that.”
“The event where we will all eat pie, carve turkeys, and celebrate the fact that Liv and Jay are obviously in love.”
“We are not—” Jay and I say at the exact same time, which only makes Hudson cackle and Daphne beam.
I grab the bag of croissants and bite into one like it’s my only defense. Because if I say another word, it’ll be the wrong one. And Daphne will never let me live it down.
Chapter thirty
Jay
Thismorningcould’vegoneway better.
I could’ve woken up slowly with Liv in my arms, maybe even given in to the way she was pushing me, tempting me like she had every intention of breaking me in two. Instead, I’m standing in the kitchen, still shirtless for whatever reason, while my best friend eats half a dozen croissants and his fiancé accuses me of marital-level commitment after one night ofsleeping. Literally sleeping.
I sink into the chair opposite Liv, find one of my hoodies on the chair, and pull it on before grabbing a croissant from the bag, and try not to stare at the way her sweatshirt slips off her shoulder.
“Jay,” Daphne singsongs.
I glance up. Mistake. She’s grinning like she knows every damn thing running through my head.
“We’re waiting,” she says.
“For what?”
“Our Friendsgiving planning meeting,” she says, all fake innocent. “What did you think I meant?”
Hudson snorts into his coffee. “Pretty sure Jay’s mind is elsewhere.”
I raise a middle finger at him. “No, it’s thinking about Friendsgiving, fuck you very much.”
“So, where are we hosting it?” Liv asks.
“Our place makes the most sense,” Daphne says, already scribbling in her notebook. “It’s the biggest, and Rosie can nap in her bed. Win-win.”
The rest falls into place quicker than I expect. Quinn and Miles are already volunteering for dessert duty, Finn and Foxx are in, too, while Seb and Indie can’t make it but promised to FaceTime if they can. Everyone else agrees to bring something homemade—easy, done.
Hudson dusts crumbs off his shirt. “And I’m officially out of croissants, so we should probably go before I eat all of Jay’s food, too.”
Silent relief rushes through me. They gather their stuff, and just before walking out, Daphne swoops in to hug Liv. I don’t hear what she whispers, but judging by Liv’s raised brows and muttered, “Subtle as always,” I don’t need to.
The door clicks shut behind them, and the apartment falls quiet, leaving me standing in the middle of it, not sure what to do as she thuds her head to the wood.
“That was…” She stops and exhales loudly.
“Our friends are ridiculous.”
She hums a laugh and turns, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and I step closer before I can think better of it. My thumb grazes along her jaw, the tips of my fingers threading into her hair. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes flick up to mine, wide and searching, full of sparks and life. “I’m good,” she croaks, then laughs, clearing her throat. “Though Olivia Oliviera is quite something.”
A jolt of warmth travels up my throat at the sound of our names intertwined like that, which is incredibly ridiculous. And still, I linger there, holding her face in my hands. Her breath brushes my wrist, and something in me stirs that I don’t quite know how to name. I lower my head, slow enough to give her the chance to step back, but she doesn’t. My lips find her forehead, a quiet press that feels far too intimate for what it is. “Since we’re awake, shall we make your bed?”
Then everything changes in her eyes, those sparks snuff out, and she shakes her head. “Yeah, of course, you’ll want to sleep in your own bed tonight without… yeah, let’s do that.” She goes to move away, but I stop her, my hand closing gently around her wrist.
“Hey, that’s not what I meant.”
She pulls against me, and I let her go. “No, it’s fine, the bed’s here, it makes sense.”
