I burst out laughing, like, doubled-over, hand-on-my-stomach laughing. “Amazing.”
I ignore the small pang of disappointment that he’s not wearing glasses today.
“Yeah?” He’s grinning now, pleased with himself, but then his eyes do that thing again. That slow, careful sweep of my pink corset, over the iridescent sequins of my skirt and the way it hugs every curve before the high slit reveals my tanned thigh and the cutest pair of sparkle heels I’ve ever owned.
When his gaze makes it back to my face, his expression softens. “Hi.”
It’s awkward, and entirely too cute.
My breath catches. “Hi.”
For a minute, neither of us moves, then he clears his throat and shifts the briefcase to his other hand. “You look… I mean, you’re a?—”
“Mermaid.” I flip my curls over my shoulder before doing a little spin in the doorway.
“Yeah.” He scratches his temple, his eyes darting away before meeting mine again. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“Is it too much? It is, isn’t it? I should?—”
“No! Don’t change. I like… you look great.” He smacks his lips together, then blows out a deep breath. “Love the sparkles.”
Sparkles? I’m a human disco ball between the iridescentblue eye shadow, the pink face glitter leftover from the Eras tour, and enough sparkle hairspray to be seen from space.
“Thanks. Well, in that case…” I rush out, my chest tight at his small compliment. I shut and lock the door behind me, following him to the flagstone walkway in front of my house. “I can drive us.”
Mildred sits pathetically in my driveway, freshly returned from the garage. I’m still silently weeping over the cost to fix her.
“I don’t mind the walk if you don’t.”
I nod, suddenly self-conscious as the silence stretches between us. Sometimes I forget Jack grew up here.
I’ve floated along for years, slipping into the cracks of my mom’s life. I’m grateful an old professor of mine agreed to lease me her rental here in town, even if it still feels like I’ll need to leave. It doesn’t matter if I have the bookstore. If the expansion fails, I won’t have enough income to support everyone, and I’ll need to close the shop and move again. I never finished my teaching degree, so there’s no fallback, no plan B. Worse, I’ll have to move in with my mom, Peyton, Riley, and Luca.
For twenty-eight years, I’ve learned over and over again that the other shoe always drops.
Always.
“Thanks for agreeing to come tonight,” I say. “I can’t promise it’ll be half as fun as a Halloween party in Boston.”
“Have you met my nana and her friends?”
I shrug, lips twitching.
“Besides, I usually get roped into going trick-or-treating anyway. Bosko’s still pissed at me from last year because Lily dressed up as Boo and insisted I was Sully. Made him go as Mike.”
“Unforgivable,” I joke. “Still, Merritt Point can’t be as exciting as a party in the city.”
He clears his throat, then tries to sneak a peek at me, but I catch him. “I’ll be with you.”
A soft breeze picks up and drags a pile of brittle leaves across the pavement in front of us. The air is crisp, a touch too cold. That earthy, end-of-fall smell mixes with the salty air sweeping in from the harbor. The small backstreets leading over to Main Street are full of families trick-or-treating.
Jack and I fall into an easy rhythm as we walk, pointing out the over-the-top decorations, like the towering skeleton dressed as Taylor Swift, or the extra creepy house with way too many clowns. Honestly, that should be illegal.
When we reach a house with a fire pit in the driveway, the older couple warming their hands waves us over like they’ve been expecting us. They press tiny bottles of Fireball into our hands and insist we roast marshmallows. Jack jumps right in, chatting about the season like he’s known them for years. He clinks his plastic nip against mine, then winks.
Trouble.
I tip my head back and take the shot, the warm cinnamon burn sliding down my throat and slipping into my limbs. I can’t tell if it’s the drink or the way he laughs that makes me feel tipsy.
