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October is smiling at the floor.
My heart is floating towards her. “I dreamed about this place every day I was gone.”
I speak more to October. “And being back isn’t nearly as awful as everyone makes returning out to be—”
“What the fuck?!” Angela screeches, springing to her feet. “Oh my God. Check Instagram. Check Instagram!”
As more people whip out their phones, Brambillas begin freaking out like a meteor shower is headed for Earth.
“Uh?” I scrunch my face at October.
She whispers, “I have no idea.”
Angela is wafting her face, a second shy from hyperventilating. “I can’t believe they’re together. They’re kissing. Did anyone predict this?”
October turns off the microphone in my hand. “This has to be about the vow renewal.” Hales, Meadows, Cobalts.
“Right.” I can tell October is interested. She discreetly checks Instagram before slipping her phone in her pocket.
I smile at her.
“What?” She acts like the celeb gossip isn’t newsworthy, but she seems giddy.
“Okay, tell me,” I say as I dig my phone out of my bra.
“Maximoff Hale just posted a selfie. He’s kissing his bodyguard.”
“He called him his lover!” I hear Angela squeal. “That means they’re dating. They’re totally together.”
“Who’s his bodyguard?” I ask October and think back to the FanCon in Chicago, trying to recollect if I caught a glimpse of Maximoff Hale’s bodyguard. Was he the super tall bodyguard or the bleach-blond one?
She peeks at her phone. “Someone named Farrow Keene.”
“What the hell is Jane Cobalt wearing at the vow renewal?” someone says. “She looks like My Little Pony.”
October shoots a glare. She’s a diehard Jane Cobalt defender, of course I remember.
Now would be a great time to tell October that I bought tickets to the FanCon—that I attended the meet-and-greet and Q&A.
But as soon as I unmute my phone, about to pop up Instagram—I see a dozen missed texts from Georgia and even more from Ashton.
“Shit,” I curse. “I have to…I’ll be…” I make no sense while I scroll through the shouty caps texts. “I’ll be back.” I wander away, hoping the event is now officially over. From my stammering answers, to the brawl, to October’s big bold lie (that I secretly love)—it’s gone off the rails. As expected.
I meander into the storage room and plop onto a couple big boxes of hardbacks. And glaze over the shouty texts.
Ashton: STOP BEING LIKE THIS. ANSWER ME GODDAMMIT
Why is he being such an ass? I send a quick reply. I’m fine. Stop texting me. I’ve been talking to Georgia.
I also message Georgia and give her more info and an apology. How I think I’ll be another week and she’s a lifesaver.
Done. I stuff my phone back into my blouse and find myself slumping forward. Face buried in my hands. My head dipping down.
Chicago is catching up to me. I built a life there…
I hear the door creak.
I lift my head out of my knees. “Kenobi?”
“It’s just me.” October is carrying a tray of cupcakes and takes a spot on the box of books beside me. She balances the tray on her lap.
They’re the most perfect cupcakes I could ever conceptualize. Not with plastic, wax-looking frosting, but fluffy cream and expertly drizzled caramel. Something meant to be eaten. Not just stared at, which is why she whispers, “Take one.”
I replay the book event. How it didn’t go as planned at all, and I don’t make a move for the cupcake.
Her face nearly breaks. “Zoey?”
“You had to come to my rescue,” I say quietly.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve let you handle it yourself.”
I end up smiling softly. “The funny thing is that I like when you pull me from quicksand, Kenobi. You’ve always been good at that. My Jedi Master.”
She rolls her eyes.
I want to laugh, but I’m sullen.
“Why do you look so down?” October wonders. “The book event wasn’t that terrible.”
I snort. “My brother beat up your cousin.”
“They believe our memoir.”
“Our love story,” I correct, and I watch her fingers inch towards mine. I splay my fingers over October’s knuckles, and our hands curl together. She’s not pulling away from me. I breathe in. “If I could actually write worth a damn, this is the book I’d want to be written.”
Her eyes glass. “Me too.” She blinks away some emotion, then picks up a cupcake. “You really don’t want this?”
“Me? Only a fool could ever reject your cake and cookie.” I wear a smartass smile.
She rolls her eyes at the sexual innuendo, then lightly taps the cupcake to my lips and pulls away. “Taste test.”
I laugh and run my tongue over the frosting on my lips. “Buttercream,” I say wistfully. “My favorite.” She knows it’s my favorite.
She scoops some frosting on her finger and gives me a stronger, more commanding, more loving look that’d buckle my weak knees if I were standing. A heady breath escapes my opened lips. “Kenobi…”
“Open.”
I part my lips even wider, and she slips her finger into my mouth. I close my lips around her, sucking off the sweet cream.
