I weave my way through the crowd, the sound of chatter and laughter rising around me. Everyone’s buzzing, happy, oblivious. Everyone except her.
“Sweets,” I say low when I reach the counter, leaning close enough so no one else hears, “don’t look at me like that.”
Her jaw tightens, and she slides another bag across the counter before whispering back, “Look at theline, Dash.”
For a second, I think she’s pissed at me for Lauren’s stunt, for Briar letting the name bring in the book, for the mess that just went down. But then I catch it—the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth, the shine in her eyes that isn’t anger, but something else.
Not mad. Not broken. Overwhelmed.
Because hello! There’s a line out the door forher hot little book.
“It’s all the way down the block.”
“Shut up,” she gasps.
“You’re welcome,” I murmur, fighting a grin.
She narrows her eyes harder, like she might actually throw a book at my head. But this time, I see the truth under it.
She’s happy. Terrified. Blown sideways. But happy.
And so am I.
The End
