“You think Raelynn should date Dalton?”
“It’d get him off my back.” Which was the reason I’d started the fake relationship with Jamie in the first place.
But something about it still stopped Nellie in her tracks, and she blinked at me. “You wouldn’t be… jealous?”
Oh.Oh. That was it. “Of course not,” I said breezily, even going as far as to wave my powdered sugar-covered fingers. “How many times do I have to tell you, Nell? I’m over him.” And this time when I said it, the words felt sturdy. Solid. I meant them. “Let’s stop talking about my love life, and Raelynn’s, and freaking Dalton’s. Let’s talk aboutyours.”
The topic change, as sharp as it was, worked. Nellie scrunched her nose. “Mine?”
“What did your crush with Beck feel like?” I batted my eyelashes at her, trying to channel my girly interest, to hide the true reason for me asking. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a true crush. Tell me what it was like for you.”
Tell me what it was like for you so I can see if I’m having the same feelings for your brother.
Nellie immediately had a sheepish smile, and she traced her knee with her finger. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“Did your heart flutter? Did you dream about him?” I nudged her with my foot. “Come on, spill. I know we don’t talk about crushes and butterflies, but I’m curious how it all played out. How did you know… the second time? I know you liked him when you were little, but how did it feelnow?”
“I don’t know. I guess I had… butterflies.” Her nose scrunched further. “He told me that when you want to kiss someone, you’d look at their lips. And I caught myself looking at his… a lot.”
I looked at Jamie’s lips. A lot. “And you wanted to kiss him?”
“Like, all the time.” Nellie’s cheeks were very pink, but I only caught a glimpse before she buried her face into her palms. “Ugh, this is socringeyto talk about, Daisy.C-R-I-N-G-E-Y. I hate you.”
“You love me.” I laid my head down dramatically on the back of the couch. “Your best friend is just trying to live vicariously through you. Sue me.”
“We’ll find you a great guy,” she assured me, offering me a smile. “And you can feel all those fluttery butterfly feelings yourself.”
My phone vibrated where it sat on my leg, and I tapped the screen, finding a message from Jamie waiting.
Jamie
One night is never enough
My heart skipped a beat, so sharply that I shifted from the twinge of pain it caused. Jamie probably meant it normally, casually, but I deluded myself into thinking my best friend was flirting back.
I think I might’ve already found one.
CHAPTER 18
There was one thing I especially loved at Alderton-Du Ponte, and it was the Mimosa Morning brunches they held once a month. It’d been a bit since I’d been able to go, but Theo’s Saturday morning soccer games were over, and I finally,finallyhad a free Saturday morning.
And I didn’t love them because I played dress-up in Nellie’s clothes, or because it was an afternoon out of the house, or because I actually liked the plain flutes of orange juice they served to us minors.
No, I loved Mimosa Mornings for the drama.
“It’s a shame the Pembletons didn’t renew their membership after their month trial,” Ms. Jennings mused when the conversation had lulled. She held her champagne flute like a wineglass, the plastic stem sticking between her fingers. Plastic, because she’d developed a nasty habit of throwing them at people when she had too many. “It seems they’re too uppity for this place.”
“Or they were disgusted bysomeone’slack of decorum,” Mrs. Conan replied under her breath, unable to wipe the twist of disgust from her face. Mrs. Conan was, unfortunately, usually the recipient of Ms. Jennings’s champagne flutes, and eyed it warily. “The immaturity on display at your birthday party was egregious.”
“Oh, dear, it’s impolite to talk negatively about your husband in public.”
I munched on a piece of sliced cucumber, rapt.
Mrs. Conan gasped. “My husband?—”
“Puked in my birthday party’s punch bowl.” Ms. Jennings arched a brow, ignoring Nellie’s mom as she laid a hand on her friend’s arm. “Right? I might not remember much from that night, but that, Ido.”
Dang. Jamie had bet that Dr. Conan would throw up first, but I’d bet on Mrs. Johnson. I wonder if he knew he won.
