EPILOGUE
“Come on, I bought the supplies. How hard can it be?”
“Hard, Nellie. You think I just did this myself?”
I met Beck’s gaze in the mirror. “You went to a salon and had your hair bleached?”
Beck scowled from where he sat on a stool I’d pulled up from the kitchen. “And?” His voice was pouty. “What’s wrong with that?”
I combed my fingers through Beck’s feathery hair, looking at the dark brown roots bleeding up into the bleached blond.
Yesterday, when he’d driven me home from my birthday party, he’d made an offhand comment about dyeing his hair back brown.
“I said we should try highlighting your roots once.” I gently pulled his hair back out of his eyes.
“I want to try it. Maybe I’ll find a new passion and throw pre-law out entirely. ”
Beck’s eyes lidded a little with each pass of my fingers, but it was clear he was trying to fight it. “I think you’re overconfident.”
“O-V-E-R-C-O-N-F-I-D-E-N-T.”
“Spelling makes you feel better. Not me.”
“I got it!” Daisy burst into the bathroom off the hallway, a plastic bag swinging in her grip as she held it up. “I got everything that website said. Bleach, toner, developer, the little brush thing—”
“And a bowl,” Jamie finished, stepping into the doorway as Daisy squeezed her way inside the already cramped half-bath. He watched as she unloaded the bag. “Everything you need for a chemical disaster.”
Beck sent my brother a flat-faced stare. “Helpful, Jamie.”
But Jamie just smiled. “Ever and always.”
I patted Beck’s shoulder. “It’s going to be perfectly fine,” I assured him, swiping up the big bottle of developer. “One part to two parts… how much is a part?”
Daisy was looking over the lightener. “Should I have gotten the same brand? This says to use the same brand.”
I only hesitated for a second. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
“It’s just hair,” Beck said to his reflection, expression mildly resembling someone going off to war. “It’ll grow back.”
“Oh, I’ve got it!” Daisy said suddenly. “Jamie, do you guys have a food scale?”
He nodded. “In the kitchen, probably.”
Daisy darted off, but Jamie went after her, knowing she’d have no idea where to look. Beck and I were alone in the bathroom again, and I nearly laughed at his sad little expression. “On the bright side, if all your hair falls off, people will look at you then.”
“The only person I want looking at me is you.”
I rested my chin on the top of his head. “And I’ll still love you even if I turn you bald.”
Beck tried to smile. “Romantic, Nell-Bell.”
I laughed, the sound filling the small bathroom, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t keep himself from quietly joining in. I wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning down and watching our reflections in the mirror.
His eyes softened, the faint trace of his amusement still touching his lips. “You think Carter will ever post your ASMR special?”
“He says he will,” I said with a snort. “When he texted this morning, he promised he’d post it tomorrow. I think he’s too embarrassed for his followers to see him be assassinated at chess.”
“Was he bad?”
“Oh, horrible.”
Beck laughed at that, settling into my hold.
I nuzzled my face closer to his, to his soft blond hair that I was about to fry. “I’m happy we’re here.”
“Yeah.” Beck turned his head so he could see my face instead of looking at me through the mirror, his eyes bouncing between mine. “Me too.”
We both leaned in at the same time, pressing a kiss that was soft and full of words unsaid.
Beck’s glancing kisses were my favorite, but I pushed further, fingers curling in his blond hair and holding him to me.
His fingers skimmed up along my arm that still held his neck, raising goosebumps.
I’d wanted to kiss him this way for a long, long time, because the kiss we’d shared in the garden four years ago had been a cruel tease. A glimpse at what could’ve been.
But now, this kiss was surer, with no fear or worry at all.
No, it was perfect, now no longer a glimpse of what could’ve been, but a promise of what was and what would be.
P-E-R-F-E-C-T.
DAISY
Okay, so bleaching Beck’s hair in the bathroom sink was probably a bad idea, but what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t fill Nellie with confidence?
Which was why when I came back from the kitchen and found them making kissy faces at each other, I took a silent step back.
I’d let her cast her little girlfriend spell on Beck.
It might make him less irritable if we actually did screw up his hair.
Not that I thought he’d get that upset. Beck looked at Nellie like he’d shave all his hair off if she asked.
I took another step back, but this time, I bumped straight into Jamie. His hand came up and brushed my hip, steadying me. “This is a bad idea,” he told me quietly, ever and always the voice of negativity. “Especially since we’re supposed to leave for Lydia’s party in an hour.”
“It’s not like we’re bleaching all of his hair,” I murmured back to Jamie, and then waved for him to lower his head. He shuffled his feet apart, ducking down to bring himself closer to me. I whispered, “You’re supposed to calm the cows before the slaughter.”
Jamie blinked. “And Beck is a cow?”
I pushed Jamie’s glasses up the bridge of his nose, simultaneously pushing his head back. “Don’t pretend my metaphor wasn’t good.”
Jamie smiled, lowering his hand—and only then did I realize it’d still been lightly at my hip. “It was good,” he told me. “I’m impressed.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He clearly wasn’t impressed—he was patronizing. I thought about kicking him in the shins for the little know-it-all smirk he had on, but for some reason, looking up at him, I paused.
Fake dating Jamie for the summer might not be so bad, Nellie had said.
Which… okay. It wouldn’t be bad, just weird.
And impossible. Sure, we bickered like an old married couple, but there were zero butterflies fluttering between us.
He did not look at me the way Beck looked at Nellie.
He was just Jamie. How could I fake date one of my best friends and be believable?
And how could I fake date my best friend when I maybe-possibly-probably still had secret feelings for my ex?
The answer? I couldn’t.
Definitely couldn’t.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jamie asked me suddenly, voice louder than the hushed tone we’d been talking in.
I lifted my chin, pushing the weirdness from my mind. Because that was the last thing I wanted between us—weirdness. “I’m imagining you with bleached hair.” I reached for his arm. “Maybe we should do a test strand on you.”
Jamie yanked back, darting back toward the kitchen to get out of reach, but I rushed after him, unwilling to give up that easily.