“Did something happen with Spencer? Are you okay?” Stella asks.
This doesn’t seem like the time or place to get into specifics. The music isn’t as loud here as it is on the dance floor, although we have to raise our voices to hear each other. Still…
“I think Spencer and I are destined to remain in the friend zone,” I tell her.
“Why do you think that?”
“He keeps giving me all these mixed signals and running hot and cold. He’s been an amazing friend to both me and Jordy, and there are times when I feel like we could be more. Times I’m sure hewantsmore.” I don’t mention those times include three separate kisses and an invitation to spend Christmas in London with him.
“And doyouwant more?”
“I do. I’ve tried to deny my feelings for him, but it’s no use. When you guys invited him to my tea party last month, I thought we were meant to be in each other’s lives. We reconnected so easily, but now I’m wondering if our initial missed connection was a sign that romance isn’t in the cards for us and we should just be friends.”
Stella makes a humming sound that’s nearly swallowed by a sudden swell in the music. “I wish I knew what to tell you, my love. I don’t have any answers, but Idoknow you deserve someone who leaves no doubt how they feel about you. You deserve to be loved—completely, unconditionally, and forever. You deserve the very best, Hollie Anne Matheson.”
There’s so much I could say to that, but my throat is too tight with emotion, and my feet are itching to get back on the dance floor. The night is almost over, and I want to enjoy every last minute of it with the people I love most.
I hop up from the barstool and throw my arms around Stella. The movement nearly knocks her off her stool, so she clings to me, both of us giggling. It feels good—the laughterandthe bone-crushing hug.
“I love you so much,” I tell her. “Now let’s go end the night on the dance floor.”
*****
“Okay, dancing queen—”
“Young and sweet, only seventeen,” I cut in, dragging out the note on the last word. “Well, times two. Plus one.”
Jordy laughs, shaking her head. “Doesn’t roll off the tongue as well as the original, does it?”
After another hour of singing and dancing at Connelly’s—and my ‘one more drink’ turning into yet another ‘one more drink’—Fergus offered to drive Jordy and me home. The two of them are now standing at the passenger door of Fergus’s car, waiting for me to get out, but my legs don’t seem to be working after all that dancing.
“All right, lass, here we go.” Fergus ducks into the car and circles one arm around me before gently pulling me out of the car.
“He said ‘lass’ again, Jordy,” I call over Fergus’s shoulder. “Did Fergus teach you any more fun Scottish words?”
“A few,” Jordy says. She’s watching me with a mixture of amusement and affection. “I think ‘numpty’ is my favorite.”
Fergus’s grip tightens as giggles roll out of me. Since he’s already so close, I throw my arms around him in a hug, laughing harder when he lets out a surprised ‘oof’.
“I think I kind of love you, Fergus,” I tell him, releasing him to pat his bearded cheek. “Is that okay?”
His eyes light with indulgent humor. “Aye, that’s okay, Hollie. I think I kind of love you too.”
“And Louisa?” I ask.
Fergus’s smile wavers and then grows, his face morphing into an expression I’ve never seen before. Despite the sigh he releases, he nods. “Louisa too.” He steadies me and steps away without giving me a chance to question him further, which is probably a good thing because Lulu would throttle me if she knew. “I’ve got a few things in the back seat for you. Why don’t you and Jordy head inside and I’ll bring everything in and put it in the kitchen.”
Jordy hooks her arm through mine and guides me toward the house. Once we’re inside, she says, “Go change your clothes while I pour you a giant glass of water.”
I do as instructed, making a detour to the bathroom to throw my hair into a messy bun and wash my makeup off. In a very un-Hollie move, I strip in the middle of my room and leave my clothes in a heap on the floor, then don my pajamas. By the time I get to the living room, Jordy is there, wearing her own pajamas.
She hands me a glass of ice water after I’ve flopped down beside her. As soon as the cold liquid touches my lips, it tastes like the best thing ever, and I down half the glass in one go. Jordy watches me with mirth dancing in her eyes.
“Did you have fun tonight?” I ask her.
“So much fun,” she says. “I’ve never been to a proper grown-up party before—y’know, where people are circulating with trays of food and stuff? It all felt so glamorous.”
“You looked glamorous,” I tell her, enjoying the pleasure in her expression even though she shrugs off my words. “I hope you find a reason to wear that dress again soon.”
