“Can you shut up?” Isla snaps.
“I mean, I can, but I don’t want to.”
“Enough with the snogging talk,” Rowan cuts in. “We need to focus on the painting.” Rowan to the rescue, like always. “We have to do the ceiling, moldings, and walls. The only things not getting painted in here are the wood beams on the ceiling and the wood floors. Please be careful to keep those clean. And pair up. Leith and Lachlan, take the ceiling. I’ll work on the right side with Bonnie, and you girls cover the left. I’m buying drinks if we get this done by eight.”
That encourages the boys, who quickly get to work, while Dakota and Isla start on their side. I watch from across the room as they murmur to each other, laughing and smiling. I feel a pang of jealousy.
When Dakota was with Isabella, I never saw her act the way she’s acting now—content and carefree. That should have been clue number one that Isabella wasn’t the girl for her. But seeing her with Isla, it almost feels like—and I know this might sound stupid—but it almost feels like my best friend is being stolen away from me. I know I encouraged her to go for it, but still . . . a girl can feel left out.
With Isabella, she told me everything. From every hand hold, every look, every kiss, I was there, step by step, helping her realize that it’s okay to like a girl. It’s okay to come out of your shell and realize exactly who you are.
And now, with Isla, I selfishly expected to be involved every step of the way as well. But, sadly, I’m starting to see Dakota grow wings and pull away. Going to talk to Isla alone, the double date that turned into a single one, and now this.
It’s almost as if . . . she doesn’t need me anymore, and that strikes me hard, because, if anything, Dakota gave me an ounce of purpose while fighting through these unknown feelings I’ve absorbed.
Now what?
Doubt and loneliness start to creep into the back of my mind.
I’m tempted to ask Rowan if I can switch partners, but that’s just an overreaction. Right? I’m overreacting. I’m thrown off that everyone knew about their kiss and I didn’t. I’ve known Dakota forever. We’ve known every little thing about each other’s lives, and being left out of this important factoid—her kissing her second girl ever—stings, for sure, but I’ll get over it. She looks happy, and I don’t want to make a big deal over something that will probably seem so trivial to her.
In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.
What matters is Dakota’s happiness. And with one glance in their direction, I can tell she’s truly finding her place here in Corsekelly.
Deep breaths, Bonnie. It’s fine. You’re fine.
“Hey, you all right?” Rowan asks.
“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. Just, uh . . . thinking.” I tack on a smile, but I think we both know it’s fake.
It’s fine. It will all be okay.
You’re not losing your friend.
Stop overreacting and have fun.
I take a deep breath, grab a roller from Rowan, and head to the wall. Before we start, he leans in and kisses me on the side of the head. “Date tomorrow.”
That brings a smile to my face. “Are you going to dress up?”
“Are you?”
“Naturally. I plan on dressing up under my clothes as well.” I wiggle my brows, and he laughs.
“Dressin’ down would be better.” He wiggles his brows back.
“If you expect me to wear a dress with no underwear, you’re out of your mind.”
“Worth a shot.” He dots my nose with some paint and then gets to work.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ROWAN
Power-washed balls: Check.
Date with power-washing queen: Check.
Nervous.
Excited.
Hopeful.
It’s all I can say about my upcoming date with Bonnie.
I couldn’t sleep last night.
As rain pelted against my bedroom window, I kept thinking about Callum and what he would have thought of Bonnie. There’s no doubt they would have become good friends. They both love driving me crazy, testing me, challenging me. They would most likely have become best friends within a week.
And that makes me fucking sad, which is why I’m out in my shed at four in the morning, doors wide open so I can watch the rain pepper the already-saturated ground.
Callum was keen on my pottery. Massively so, actually, and he was always badgering me to do something with my talent. I can still hear the awe in his voice when I showed him the very first bowl I made. It was wonky, uneven, and not much of a bowl, but damn it if Callum didn’t use it almost every day when he was baking. He couldn’t fathom how a piece of wet clay could be formed into something so beautiful.