Rosalie smiles at me, but her words do not match her face. “Fran, if some strange guy—from a bar of all places—decides to lay one on you in the middle of the street?—”
“Sidewalk,” I correct.
“You don’t kiss him back?—”
“ButGrease 2. And it was a good kiss, Rose. He smelled earthy—like pine needles and lumberjacking. It was so intoxicating,” I say, picturing my cute kissing friend in suspenders with an ax thrown over his shoulder. I think there is a very good chance that man is actually a lumberjack.
“I don’t care. You don’t let a stranger?—”
“Rosalie!” I huff, slapping my palms to my thighs.Whack!Oo, that’s gonna leave a mark. “You are ruining this for me.”
Her blue eyes widen, but her mouth clamps shut.
“Do you want the rest of the story or not?”
“There’s more? Oh, boy.” Her jaw clenches, but she nods, telling me to go on.
“Okay, then. It was a good kiss. Averygood kiss. A dreamy kiss. Like a Zendaya and Tom Holland kind of kiss.” I exhale. Wowza, it was good. “Not long, but not short. Intimate, but not invasive. Gentle and?—”
Rosalie lifts one finger. “Uh?—”
“No tongue.”
Her shoulders fall with relief. I understand her concern—but she wasn’t there. It wasinnocent. I swear it. I didn’t feel as if I’d been taken advantage of. Somehow, I felt like I was being seen, like I was saving him, and only Icouldsave him. It was a good feeling.
In fact, I’d kiss him again. But I don’t tell Rosalie that. She’s a little too fired up at the moment.
“It was nice, Rose. It was sweet.”
“Sweet.” Her brows lift in disbelief. “Did you catch his name?”
I lean back against the couch and hug my throw pillow tighter. “No. He was with friends. But after, he looked into my eyes—I swear, it was as if his eyes were thanking me for the lip service. And then he left.”
“He didn’t say anything?”
“He told me I sang nice.”
“Weird.” Rosalie wobbles her head in a shake, her breath gusting with a sigh.
“Serendipitous,” I say, and a small tingle moves from my lips throughout the rest of my body.
Rosalie tilts her head and peers at me. “What are you going to do now?”
“What can I do?” I shrug one shoulder. “Besides give the whole thing a really fabulous code name. Are you ready?”
She snickers and wraps one arm around my shoulders. “A code name? Fran.”
“Yes! It needs an alias. I’m thinking…” My hand and arm float through the air, conducting the words as I speak them. “Serendipity on Second Street.”
Rosalie sighs again, the breath she releases long and tired. But she tips her head to mine. “I like it,” she says.
Six
“You’re all being superstitious.”I keep my eyes focused on the road. I don’t look at Zev beside me or at Maverick and Lucca in the back of this company car. Coach told us to use a Red Tails’ vehicle for the day. We’ve got community service in the city, at one of the Reno elementary schools. So, that means I’m driving Will Baxter’s Lincoln Navigator. It’s big enough to fit seven adult-sized soccer players.
“It’s not superstitious if it works. She’s your lucky charm,” Maverick
“Yeah. Um, you’re welcome,” Lucca says with a smirk. “None of this would have happened without me.”
