Okay.
Team Dahlia, ready for liftoff.
“You are a really amazing brother, Hank.”
She could hear his smile. “I never get tired of hearing you say that.”
“Okay, go back to work before you get fired.”
“They would never fire me. I send all the best memes. Place would be a total killjoy without me.”
“I love you, loser.”
“Love you too, baby sister.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
London, as a certified pushover when it came to all things Dahlia Woodson, really thought they’d be the first to break. They felt a little proud of themself, actually, that they had gone a full twenty hours without texting her or, alternatively, knocking down her door.
It had been easier than London might have expected. Because anytime the pining got close to being too much, London would simply picture Dahlia sitting in Tanner Tavish’s chair, saying Lizzie’s name.
And London would deflate, just a tiny bit.
But when this text came through at four o’clock on Friday afternoon—
hi i miss you
—London’s chest filled all the way up anyway. Just like it had when they’d kissed her last night.
London probably needed to get their head checked.
They probably also should not have spent the last eight hours lying in bed and watching rom-coms. Now they really had no perspective on reality.
London picked up their phone.
London:Are you breathing better now?
Dahlia:much
Dahlia:what are you up to?
London paused. They glanced at the TV.
They could lie. They should probably lie.
London:I . . . . . . . . . am possibly watching Mamma Mia
Dahlia:OH
Dahlia:MY
Dahlia:GOD
Dahlia:ONE OR TWO LONDON
London:. . . . . . . . . two
Dahlia:OH MY GODDDDDDDDDD
