Chapter 8 Rosalie
Rosalie
“Sorry, I hope that wasn’t distressing to you,” Matt said kindly. “I think he’s just kind of jealous.”
That wasn’t the most tactful thing to say in front of Dolly, but she didn’t seem to care, humming sweetly as she cut her club sandwich into tiny pieces.
I had dragged that dumbass out of plenty of bar fights over the years, but I’d never in my life seen Kingsley pissed like that.
“Forget it. Let’s talk about something else,” I said. “He’s a pain in my ass.”
“I think your style is so cool,” his girlfriend said to me.
Now, how could I hate sweet Dolly? It was not her fault Kingsley was a dirty lying bastard.
“Your style is beautiful too,” I said. “You look like an angel.”
She did, perfectly waved bouncy blonde curls, a cherubic face with a cupid’s bow mouth, and a tiny, neat little figure.
“I guess. It’s more like what my parents always expected of me.
Like, how could a harp player wear anything else?
But I wish I could be brave like you. You’re always so cool.
I remember what Kingsley said before I even met you.
He said Rosalie doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks.
I want to be more like you. I’m tired of caring so much.
I’m tired of conforming to this classical musician stereotype. ”
She frowned as she stabbed a piece of her club sandwich and then put it delicately in her mouth.
The gears in my head began to revolve.
“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously. “Remember, there’s nothing wrong with your style. You look great.”
“But I want to be edgy,” she cried, with more passion than I’d ever heard in her voice. “I want to be alt. I want to look like a gothic heroine. I want to be like you.”
“You mean have people come up and ask if I’ll hex their enemies or where Gomez is? Because that can get annoying.”
“Just cool. I want to look cool and edgy.”
“Now what do you mean you want to be edgy?”
Dolly blushed and scooted closer to me. She both looked and smelled like a fairy princess.
“I want to drink whiskey. I want to have sex in the woods. I want to get arrested.”
“OK,” I said, fighting the urge to smile.
Though if Kingsley hadn’t had sex with her in the woods yet, perhaps it was true he didn’t give a shit about her.
However, that changed nothing.
I wasn’t going back to a situationship and he couldn’t give me anything else.
“Well, you can dig around in my wardrobe, if you want,” I said. “And I enjoy sewing. If I can’t find anything I want in the store, I sew it myself. If there’s any simple patterns you want to learn, I’d be happy to teach you.”
She squealed like she’d just won the lottery instead of an invitation to the world of sewing.
“You couldn’t do better than to have Rosalie guide you,” Matt said, his eyes shining at me. “She’s the best person I know.”
And then I had a sudden, irresistibly attractive thought.
Matt and Dolly.
That might actually work.
If I could encourage him to get over this crush on me.
Matt was kind, sweet, and a true gentleman. Exactly who a literal angel like Dolly deserved. The last thing she needed was a rude, selfish asshole like Kingsley Ames.
Matt was fun for now, but we could never work in the long run. A sweetheart like him needed a woman he could protect and cherish.
And that wasn’t and had never been me. I was prickly, mouthy, and petty.
Petty as fuck.
And if Kingsley was going to go public with another woman, I was going to steal her out from right under his nose.