“Okay.” She studied his face for a moment. With his beard freshly trimmed, it looked more like an extremely artful five o’clock shadow than anything else. His jawline was sharp enough to cut her through the screen, and when he grinned, a sneaky dimple appeared on his chin. God, he was handsome. She fished for something else to say, some reason to keep him chatting longer. “Did you know I’m a bridesmaid in Ren’s wedding? And I’m doing everyone’s nails and hair. Well, mine and Liv’s and Ren’s.”
“I did not know you’re a bridesmaid, but I could’ve guessed. What are you wearing?”
“It’s a gorgeous dress. She wants us both inorange, but like, a good orange. I made sure my hair would complement it. Wanna see it?”
“Of course.”
Grinning, Fern found her dress and propped her phone on the bookcase to show it off.
“You’re going to look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” Holding up the gown like she was a paper doll, she did a twirl before tossing it back in the closet. “Will we really have our project wrapped up before the wedding? I’m going to have a busy few days once we hit Thursday.”
“I think we’ll be done on Monday. Worst case, Tuesday.”
That was no good. What excuse would she have to see himthen?The friend group would help, especially if she asked them to, but that was embarrassing. It was possible to handle this on her own. She could always— “Will you go to Ren’s wedding with me?”
Every muscle in Fern’s body froze. She nearly added, “as friends,” but bit back at the last second, unwilling to cheapen whatever they had going. They weren’tjustfriends, she didn’t think.
It was a hard, horrible, paralytic wait—those three seconds until he replied. But he did, with a small nod and, “Yeah, if you’ll return the clothes you stole.”
She glanced down, face reddening to match his tee when she remembered what she had on. “Oh my god, of course. I’ll wash them tonight.”
“No.” Planting his elbows on his knees, he eyed her sternly through the phone. “I want them as is.”
“Oh-kay... Why?”
Elliott’s nostrils flared, he growled, and his jaw ticked, all in rapid succession. She was fairly certain he was having a chat with his bear. “They’ll smell like you. Give me my clothes back. Don’t you dare wash them.”
Pinpricks of static skittered beneath her skin, flushing her—everywhere. “Is that something you like?”
“Yes.” Face tight, like he’d made himself uncomfortable with his confession, Elliott shifted the subject, “Looks like I’ll finally be needing that haircut, huh?”
Fern squealed, and he held the phone at arm’s length, laughing alongside her joy. Maybe he wasn’t her boyfriend yet, maybe they were still in the “potential” phase, but she’d get him there. She could feel it coming.
17
Fern lives a montage.
Fernrushedthroughherfinal haircut on Friday afternoon, happy it was a number two fade and nothing more complicated. Then she swept up and wiped down the salon at lightning speed while lamenting thatthiswas the day Ros decided to stay away. It was fine, she was covering Saturday so Fern didn’t have to go in at all.
After a speedy shower, she grabbed the bag she’d packed the night before, and feeling almost exactly like she was leaving for a slumber party, headed down to Elliott’s house. The only thing missing was her mom in the driver’s seat, listening to the first two minutes of any given Grateful Dead song before switching to the next. It made no sense to Fern that her mom liked jam bands but not the jamming.
“Boring,”Mom called it.
“The whole point,”Fern said.
She found Elliott in his studio, bent over his kiln, unloading ceramics. A hand-thrown vase filled with flowers waited on his work table beside an array of underglazes and brushes, ready for use.
“For me?” Fern teased, leaning in to smell the arrangement.
“Yes, actually. But not from me, sorry.” He carried a tray laden with shards over to the table and set it down before her. “They’re from Noa, in case you want references while you paint.”
“Awesome.”
“Do you— Eh, never mind.”
“What?” she asked, her curiosity piqued by the way he shuffled back to the kiln and practically shoved his whole head in to avoid answering her.
