I am capable of remarkable things; I am wholly an unremarkable person.
But August doesn’t think so.
And she doesn’t even know about my more notable accomplishments.
All she’s seen is who I am, without skills, wealth, or social standing in the way.
She’s looked atmeand calledmeremarkable.
I cannot keep falling harder for this woman. If I do, eventually the G-force is sure to kill me.
And, yet, here she is. Sitting pretty in the sun hat and dress I bought for her, beaming over a charcuterie board, and stealing more of my heart than I thought I had left.
Eyes glittering, she says, “I’ve always wanted to come here and get one of these.”
“Why haven’t you?”
She pops a cube of cheese in her mouth. “Because I simply cannot justify spending thirty dollars on a fancy cheese platterif I’m going to eat it alone, and December isn’t allowed to come here.”
I reach for one of the more modestly priced fried goat cheese fritters I ordered and take a bite. “She’s not allowed? Why not?”
“Her family’s a bit…strict.” Despondent, August shakes her head and sighs. “They treat her kind of like a fragile princess, and while sheisa princess, she most definitely isnotfragile. Still, their house, their rules, and their rules include going nowherenearalcohol. So a vineyard is somewhat off-limits.”
My brows rise, and I finish my fritter. “Isn’t she a full-grown adult?”
“Yeah, she is.” August’s eyes roll, tender smile lifting so many freckled stars on her cheeks. “I fear she’s also a certified good girl, though.”
Warmth settles deep in my chest. “How long have you two been friends?”
She hums, calculating. “Over a decade now. Two years after her family moved here, she transferred into my freshman class and caught me writing on a school computer.” Fondness saturates every inch of the woman before me. “She’s always carried herself like a cloud, so far above the world, practically floating through life. People in our school skirted around her. I don’t know why. She’s always been rich, pretty, and elegant, so maybe she seemed untouchable to them. Not only that, she entered mid-year, after cliques had already formed, so she spent the first few days alone. Until she caught me writing. I’ve always been kind of picky about people, so I didn’t have any friends either. I’ll never forget the way she lit up when she learned I was writing a fantasy romance. I’ll never forget the moment the pretty, perfect cloud that had floated into my vicinity became the beautiful, blinding sun. She’s been my best friend ever since.”
My heart squeezes at the idea of having a friend think of me in the way August thinks of December. I’ve never had afriendship so precious before, and I’m a little jealous. Even from afar, their relationship is stunning to behold, breathtaking, and a little bit fantasy.
But of course it is.
Even though I have no delusions that August will ever remotely treasure me in the same way, from the first moment we corresponded she has still managed to weave magic into my world.
Sheismagic. A fantasy come alive. A dream tasked with walking among the mundane.
Her gaze cuts to me as she tears a piece off the baguette that came with her cheese board. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
Her gaze skitters away, toward the elegant glass walls beside us overlooking the vineyard spackled with rose bushes. She lifts her nose. “Just answer my question.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know how to without more information.”
She deflates, sighing dramatically. “Pity. I suppose not all mysteries can be unraveled.”
Indeed.
I remember a matter of great importance and pause before getting another fritter. “August.”
Sly, she glances at me, murmuring, “So we use actual names now?”
“Forgive me.Mylittle lotus blossom.”
A finger of heat caresses her cheeks. “What?”
