My issue is, I still don’t know what to think about what happened a few days ago in my apartment. The way he made me feel. The way the moment now lives under my skin.
I saw the panic in his eyes when we finished.
I know because I felt that same rising panic, but it wasn’t over the fear of him leaving without a word, it was because of the fear of him regretting it knowing I set clear rules for us outside of this fake dating charade on screen. I told myself I could tuck it away in the same box I kept every other messy thing I can’t afford to feel while the cameras are rolling.
Only Tucker changed.
It’s the small things, really.
The way he watched me work today—the way he smiled or the way his hands brushed mine in passing or the way I couldfeel his eyes on me from across the room whenever I was working on something.
The worst part is, somewhere deep in my gut, I want it to happen again.
Knowing damn well it can’t. I can’t afford the distraction any more than he has already given me. Not when I’ve fought so hard to build this version of myself to land this show.
The porch light glows softly, and I hear the sound of laughter coming from inside the house the moment I step out of my car. Lantern lights hang along the front railing, and there’s a little flower box sitting on the top of the steps overflowing with wildflowers.
I grip the six-pack of hard cider I grabbed at the General Store in one hand, and knock with the other.
The door swings open before my hand is even at my side.
“There she is,” Lily says. She’s wearing sweatpants, bare feet, and an oversized cardigan that hangs to her knees. “Get in here, girl.”
She hooks an arm around my shoulders and guides me inside. Blair appears in the hallway, tossing a dishtowel over one shoulder. “Yay! You made it.”
Her tone is almost relieved, like she didn’t think I’d come.
“Of course,” I say, holding up the cider. “I brought gifts.”
Lily plucks the six pack from my hand. “She comes bearing alcohol. We keep her.”
I laugh and follow her inside. I take my sneakers off, set them by the front door, and follow Lily into the kitchen. It’s beautiful. An open concept room with the kitchen sitting on one side, the island separating it from the living room.
“Okay. Love those socks. Ten out of ten. And they match!” Her hand flies to her chest as if she didn’t expect it.
I look down at my feet and wiggle my toes. They are bright pink fuzzy socks with little flamingos scattered across them.
I laugh. “My personality may be bold and chaotic, but my socks are organized.”
“Put that on a shirt,” Blair says, pointing the wine opener in my direction.
Lily guides me into the living room, and it’s exactly what I expect from Blair. It’s cozy with mismatched throw pillows, a faded quilt over the back, and a stack of romance books on the end table. She has a candle lit that smells like vanilla and amber.
Two wineglasses and one cider bottle already sit on the coasters of the coffee table. There’s a plate of what looks like…
“Are those?—”
“Twisted cinnamon knots,” Lily finishes for me, proudly. “Blair and I were experimenting tonight since Griffin is working at the bar. He’s too tempted to eat everything if he’s here, so we do it when he’s out.” She laughs. “And you’re the guinea pig for these tonight.”
“I will make the sacrifice for the bakery cause,” I say, my mouth watering as I drop onto the couch.
“Good. It will make me feel better since I’m still struggling with emotional damage from last week.”
Blair laughs, curling herself into the couch across from me, tucking one leg under her. “Ignore her, Scottie. She’s been dramatic since Dallas made her cry over a board game.”
“He cheated!” Lily protests.
“No. He strategized.”
