Chapter 12
TWELVE
DAISY
Me
Remind me to never drink again
Willa
I’ve tried, you never listen
Me
This time I might!
How do you know if you’re bad at kissing?
Willa
Once the shitty trustpilot reviews start showing up it all becomes clear
Me
Very funny (not)
Willa
Why are you asking?
Me
I kissed the hockey player
Willa
FINALLY!!!!!!
Me
….
He pushed me away
Willa
I swear some men have no taste
“You’re here early,” Tarah says when she finds me waiting outside of her office Monday morning with two cups of coffee. She unlocks the door and holds it open for me. “Is this your way of bribing me?” she asks when I slide one of the coffees across the desk to her.
“Would it work?” The truth is I bolted for the door the moment I heard Connor turn on the shower this morning, which is why I’m here first thing on a Monday.
“I’m tempted to say yes.” She chuckles. “Do you have any more pages for me?”
“The coffee wasn’t enough?”
“The coffee is good, but that’s not what I brought you out here for,” she quips, seeing straight through me. I reach for my bag, digging out the pages I finished during my hide out in the library yesterday and slide them over to her.
“Did you figure out the ending?” she asks, flicking through the top three pages. I look away, feeling a pinch in my chest knowing that Tarah freaking Striker is about to read through something I wrote. Again. Imposter syndrome is real and it’s currently kicking my ass.
“Not yet.” I sigh, sinking further into the chair and hugging my coffee to my chest, relishing the heat.
She nods once and I have a feeling she knows the frustration roiling within me all too well. “I’ll give these a read. See if I have any suggestions.”
“Thank you.”
“What happened to you on Friday?” Lauren asks, stealing a fry off my plate.
We’re sat in a booth at Mash it’s definitely not you,” she declares, swiping a hand through the air dismissively like the idea of someone not being into me is ludicrous.
I don’t even want Connor to be into me, I kind of just want him as far as way as possible.
“Concussion. It’s got to be—there’s no other explanation.
Hockey players get injuries all the time. ”
“Can we just forget about this conversation, please?”
She tilts her head, assessing me for a second, before saying, “I take bribes in the form of fries.”
I purse my lips, biting back my laughter. “I’m not above buying your silence.”
“I was hoping you would say that.” She beams at me while I slide out of the booth and head toward the bar.
My phone rings in the back pocket on my jeans while I wait for my order. I pull it out to find Mom’s caller ID sprawled across the screen. I click the call off and feel the instant wave of guilt wash over me. I shouldn’t be ignoring her, but I don’t have the energy to regulate her emotions today.
“You’re hiding from me.”
I still at the sound of the low, familiar voice. When I look over, I find Connor so close to me that I’m practically caged against the counter.
He’s got his head down low, and there’s a few flecks of snow melting on his beanie. He smiles down at me, and for once it’s not the cocky grin I’m so used to seeing from him. This one is softer, his eyes attentive as they flicker between mine.
“No, I’m not,” I say dismissively, stuffing my phone back into my jeans pocket and turning toward the bar.
It feels safer this way, without having to look at him. But then he steps in closer, his face dipping down until he’s hovering right over my shoulder.
“Yes, you are,” he says, and I feel the ghost of his breath on my cheek. He’s way too close for someone who thinks what we did the other night was a mistake. “You’re going to have to talk to me at some point, you know.”
“Mm, I was considering taking up a vow of silence,” I mumble, pulling the sleeves on my sweater down until they’re covering my hands.
“That would be a sight. If we’re going to live together, we need to figure out a way to be around each other.” He laughs, his eyes sparking a bit lighter.
He’s right.
My shoulders sag with the realization.
“Fine,” I say, turning so I’m facing him. He doesn’t budge an inch, still towering over me. “I’m sorry about Friday. I think I was a bit too drunk, and I shouldn’t have kissed you. Can we just forget about it? It won’t happen again.”
“I know,” he says, his tone growing serious. He scratches the back of his head. “Look, I think I probably have a few things to apologize for as well. Can we just start fresh?”
I nod, my teeth skimming over my bottom lip before letting it go. “Yeah, I could use that.”
“Great.” He grins, holding his hand out for me to shake. “I’m Connor. Nice to meet you.”
I roll my eyes at how corny he’s being but slip my hand into his nonetheless. It swallows mine up when his fingers close around it. “Daisy.”
He crooks his head, a teasing smile on his lips, his hand still holding mine. “Is that a no to ‘Tulip’ then?”
“Definitely.”
“You wound me.” He folds his free hand against his chest, still holding on to mine with the other.
“Friends?” I say when the bartender appears with a plate of fries. He loses his grip on me, and I reach for the food.
“Friends,” he agrees, before I turn away from him to head back to Lauren in our booth.
Do friends stare at your ass when you walk away? Because I definitely feel his eyes on me. And when I glance over my shoulder, he’s not even being subtle about the way he’s ogling me.
Friends.
Yeah, right.