Vivian’s empty stomach churned, sending an unfortunate tremble to her fingers and smudging her eyeliner. She swallowed, throat dry but mouth watering with the telltale sign of nausea.
When Bryn had extended her mother’s invitation via screenshot from their texts, she’d also been very clear that Vivian was welcome but not mandated to attend. Normally, Vivian wouldn’t have thought twice about declining. She didn’t owe Bryn anything; they were dating. Just dating. Not in some deep, committed relationship. They hadn’t even discussed monogamy, although where Bryn would find the time to see anyone else when her days started at five in the morning and ended on Vivian’s couch most nights….
The image snaked its way into Vivian’s brain before she could stop it. A sacrilegious picture of Bryn’s lips on someone else. Her fingers intertwined with anyone’s but hers.
Vivian slammed her eyebrow pencil down and reached for her makeup wipes. Unless she wanted to look like Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford, she was going to have to start over.
Laughing to herself because her nervous system was completely dysregulated, Vivian let her mind run wild. She could embody a character. She could show up as Vivian Taylor to accept Bryn’s family’s rejection. It was the only reason she’d agreed to go.
If they had no future, it was better for Bryn to see that now. For them to appreciate that they’d tried this little dating experiment, but it was always going to fail. True to her word, Vivian wouldn’t sayI told you so. She’d take the beautiful moments with Bryn into the rest of her life and cherish them.
She looked at herself in the mirror, face wiped clean. Okay, first she’d wallow so spectacularly, andthenshe’d be wildly gracious. Maybe they could even manage something of a friendship.
Vivian groaned. God, she was pathetic. But she couldn’t lie to herself. She’d accept the scattered bits of Bryn’s light even if she couldn’t have her how she wanted her. Having her at all was worth any price.
An hour later, Vivian had ironed her freshly cut hair straight so it ended bluntly below her shoulders. Bryn had said dinner would be casual, but while staring at her closet, Vivian couldn’t imagine wearing jeans to meet Bryn’s family.
She swallowed again, palms sweaty and nausea at the ready. Her family. She was going to meet Bryn’s family. What the fuck was she thinking?
Reaching for a simple, long-sleeved wrap dress, navy blue and unremarkable, Vivian prepared herself for the end. She slipped on a pair of nude flats so she didn’t tower over everyone, and picked up her phone. Out of nervous habit, she checked her email and instantly regretted it.
“Vivian, we have to go,” Bryn said excitedly from the driver’s seat.
“You can go,” Vivian conceded, hands folded in her lap and eyes on the highway traffic. Traffic even at seven at night on a Saturday. Construction?—
“Do you have any idea how many people are obsessed withMagpies?” Bryn didn’t signal before changing lanes or she’d risk the other car speeding up to block her entry. “Have you seen any of the fan art I’ve sent you?”
“No,” she lied.
Bryn laughed. “Have you ever been to a reader event?”
“Have you?”
“As a fan? Heck yeah.” Bryn settled into the express lane, but kept both hands on the steering wheel, her head on a swivel.
If pressed, Vivian might admit that she detested driving and appreciated that Bryn always seemed thrilled to do it. She didn’t even hate that Bryn stubbornly insisted on driving her car and rarely Vivian’s. There was something so maddeningly addictive about the way Bryn treated her like she was normal. How she made herfeelnormal.
“I once stood in line for two hours to get a book signed,” Bryn continued.
“Why?”
She chuckled. “Because it’s fun to like something! And it’s cool to share a passionate interest with others.”
“With strangers.”
“With friends you haven’t met yet.”
Vivian rolled her eyes, but it did nothing to cover the growing pit in her belly. An industry event was one thing, but exposing herself to the public—to the unpredictable masses. It was too much.
“It won’t be like you’re picturing,” Bryn said as if Vivian was projecting her anxieties onto the windshield. “A hundred attendees. A cute bookstore. An hour in conversation with Yenni Montoya and answering questions. Then signing?—”
“What the hell are we even going to sign? Someone’s audiobook subscription?—”
“So you don’t want to meet your fans because of the decline of CD sales?” Bryn called her on her bullshit so effortlessly, it should have been irritating. “If you spent even five minutes on Reddit?—”
“I’d rather swallow dull razors.”
“Jesus. That’s a visual.” Bryn laughed. “People love you, Vivian. They’re dying to meet you.”
