Chapter Fourteen #3
She buried her face in her hands with a groan.
Rosaline chuckled. “It certainly seems like he and Lyric are having a good time. I’m glad.”
She dropped her hands and sighed. “He doesn’t let loose very often.”
“Neither does Lyric.” Rosaline swiped across the screen. “He’s right, by the way. You are trending.”
“Lovely.” Poppy rubbed her eyes. “Just tell me—how bad is it?”
“Well,” Rosaline said, eyes locked on her phone, index finger intermittently flicking the screen to scroll, “I suppose that
depends on your definition of the word.”
Poppy slumped over, resting her cheek against the counter, the granite cool against her overheated skin. “So it’s badder than bad. Got it.”
“Don’t be melodramatic,” Rosaline chided, nudging Poppy’s knee with hers. “You’re a meme, but that was to be expected. Most
people seem to agree with Cash and think you’re a badass.” She paused, tongue sweeping out and wetting her bottom lip. “Someone
made a fancam edit of us.”
Poppy lifted her head. “A what?”
“Fancam edit. A montage of clips from the red carpet set to—”
“No, I know what a fancam is. I just . . . I guess I never thought I’d see the day where someone made one of me.”
One of her and Rosaline, apparently.
Rosaline’s teeth dug into her bottom lip. “People do seem to think you and I are secretly seeing each other.”
She curled her fingers around the edge of the counter so they wouldn’t shake. “Seeing each other like . . . ?”
Rosaline’s eyes flickered to Poppy’s face before returning to the screen. “Dating, Poppy. The internet thinks we’re secretly
dating.”
Poppy swallowed thickly, an ache in her throat. “Oh.”
The look on Rosaline’s face was frustratingly unreadable as she set her phone aside and met Poppy’s stare. “You sound upset.”
“Well, yeah.” She grimaced. “People think we’re dating and—we’re not.”
Poppy must’ve done a piss poor job of concealing her feelings if people sitting at home, people who didn’t even know her,
had picked up on them.
Rosaline was unnervingly quiet, staring down at the remnants of her sandwich like they were offensive, her brow knit.
The half a PB&J Poppy had scarfed down sat like a stone in her stomach. She needed to fix this. Say something to . . . God, she didn’t know. Assure Rosaline that she wasn’t operating under any delusions here. Poppy understood what this was. “Rosaline—”
“We could be.”
Poppy froze, heart lodged in her throat. “What?”
“Dating.” Rosaline leveled her with a stare from beneath her dark lashes. “We could.”
“You and me?” she croaked.
Rosaline’s eyes crinkled at the corners as her smile grew. “Yeah, Poppy. You and me.”
Her heart skipped several beats. “But you said—” Poppy shook her head. She was so confused. “You said you weren’t looking
for anything serious. You said—you said no strings.”
“Well, I changed my mind,” Rosaline said simply.
Poppy very nearly reached down to pinch her thigh and check that she wasn’t dreaming. “You changed your mind.” She held her
breath waiting for the gotcha, for Rosaline to burst out laughing. For her to say something like, You should see your face.
Except Rosaline wasn’t cruel. She wouldn’t toy with Poppy, not like that.
“I believe that’s what I said.” Rosaline’s voice was teasing, but her eyes flitted over Poppy’s face, searching. “Cards on
the table? I really like you, Poppy, and it’s—” She hung her head and chuckled weakly. “I honestly believed I could do no strings, which, in hindsight was extremely foolish of me because, as Lyric pointed out to me recently, I’ve never done a damn thing
casually in my life.” She winced. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s going to suck if you don’t feel the same, but I needed to say
something. That there are strings. At least, on my end.”
Her heart battered against her sternum as if it could beat a hole through her chest. “You like me.” The truth started to sink in. “You really like me.”
“Okay, Sally Field.” Rosaline was beaming as she reached out and pried Poppy’s fingers free from the edge of the counter,
thumb smoothing over the backs of her knuckles. “You’re clever and courageous and you make me laugh and—what’s not to like?
I could honestly wax poetic about you, Poppy.” A blush swept across her cheeks. “You can ask Lyric if you don’t believe me.
These last few weeks, she’s had to put up with my—I personally would call it a recitation of your many merits. But she calls
it mooning. Like she’s one to talk.”
“Mooning,” Poppy breathed, making Rosaline laugh.
“You can’t seriously be surprised,” she said, and she couldn’t have been more wrong. Surprise didn’t begin to do Poppy’s shock justice. “I don’t think I could’ve done a poorer job of hiding the way I felt. The way I
feel. I mean, the internet took one look at us and saw right through me.”
“Right through you? ” Poppy laughed. “More like right through me.”
She hadn’t even seen the pictures from tonight, but she knew without a fraction of a doubt her feelings would be splashed
across her face, plain for anyone to see, legible as a billboard.
Rosaline’s smile broadened, lighting up the whole kitchen. “Oh? Tell me more.”
“You can’t seriously be surprised,” she said, throwing Rosaline’s words back at her. “I thought you didn’t have time to date.
Or was that just an excuse?”
Rosaline shrugged. “I think we make time for what matters.”
Her heart squeezed and swelled simultaneously inside her chest before, like a pin to a balloon, her bubble burst. “I live
in Portland.”
“So? It’s not like either of us work a traditional nine-to-five or go into an office.
” Rosaline shrugged easily. “Not to mention, the holidays are right around the corner, and I know Lyric and Cash are making plans to spend them together in Portland. Plus, my parents are there so I’d be flying into town no matter what.
I’ll be in town from Thanksgiving through the new year. At least.”
And after? She wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to jump the gun. It was only October, after all.
“I don’t know what your plans for the holidays look like, but I was hoping we could spend some time together,” Rosaline continued,
bringing Poppy’s hand to her mouth and brushing a kiss to her knuckles that turned her insides to goo. “If you want.”
As if it were even a question.