“Sorry!” I say, helping her back upright. I yank open the door.
“You.” My spirits plummet.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” Derek asks.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your cousin invited me.”
“Which one?” I narrow my eyes.
“Randall.”
Ugh. I’m not surprised. My parents are from Snowflake Harbor, and they both are from large families. As a result, my sister and I have a lot of cousins. Some we call our good cousins, and some we call our bad cousins. Randall is one of the latter. He’s always been chummy with Derek, and he’s always sticking his misogynistic nose in everyone’s business.
I grudgingly open the door wider, not wanting to cause a scene. Stupid small towns where you can’t escape an ex. At least this party is big. Hopefully, he will get lost among the crowd and stay far away from me.
“Where’s your other half?” I ask, referring to Monique. I hate myself for asking.
He frowns. “She’s in New York. She had an audition for a reality show.”
“And how does that fit in with your ten-year plan?” I ask sweetly, remembering my dreams and how he made it a point to “practical” them away.
“I support her in what she wants to do,” he says, scratching at his ear. The hypocrite. Plus, I can tell when he’s lying. The ear scratch is a dead giveaway.
“Sure you do,” I drawl. It’s amazing how just a few months away can help you gain perspective—gain the perspective that you spent twelve years with the wrong person. Especially when you are now living with the right one.
Derek looks like he might say something else but then thinks better of it.
“Enjoy the crab dip,” I singsong after him before he disappears into the crowded house. Ha. I love crab dip. And for twelve long years, I avoided it because Derek hated the smell so much he objected to my eating it. He wasn’t allergic; he just didn’t like it. Now, with him gone, I gorge on the stuff.
I even made it for Ronan last week, and he, prince among men, ate a little. Not on a cracker, of course, because carbs, but with a cucumber slice.
The doorbell rings again. I tamp down my eagerness. After the last visitor, I’m afraid to have my hope dashed again. Could this be my second-grade nemesis, perhaps? Mandy-Lynne had mean eyes, long, shiny, blond hair, and was a plague on my elementary years. Or maybe it’s my art professor, the one who said I’d never be a serious artist and who smelled like stale coffee.
I open the door with trepidation.
“Poppy! We missed you!” Belle launches herself at me as I return her enthusiastic hug.
“Hey, little one. I missed you aswell.”
I gaze up at Ronan.And you.I missed those rare and devastating crystal eyes.
“Hi.” I shift.
“Hey.”
My gaze fall to his lips, just to gauge if one side is lifted. It’s the only way I can tell if he’s smiling inside. And to my everlasting joy, both sides of his mouth are up—only fractionally—but that’s a full-blown smile in my book. I grin back, wide.
His lips quirk up higher. I think I even detect smile lines by his eyes.
I have to look away to catch my breath.
“Belle, it’s about time you showed up. Jolene and Jacinda have been asking for you.” My parents’ neighbors have four daughters. All a year or two apart, all with names that start with J.
“Really?” Poppy exclaims, looking pleased with herself.
“Keep your coat on. I think they’re in the backyard, probably in the tree house. Why don’t you run outside and find them?”
