“You’re sitting in my house, dating one of my sister’s and girlfriend’s best friends, so you do, in fact, need to explain yourself,” Josh said. “If you don’t like it, feel free to leave.” I sighed, regretting my decision to attend this damned party. If Stella hadn’t been so adamant about attending, I could’ve spent the day doing something more productive, like hunting down her
stalker, reorganizing my library, or finishing yesterday’s crossword. Anything was better than this insufferable conversation. “You know…” Rhys’s expression turned speculative. “Bridget told me about all the things you did for Stella. Lowering her rent, agreeing to the dating arrangement, moving her into your house when some creep spooked her.” The speculation morphed into a knowing glint that set off a dozen warning bells. “Thought you didn’t like people in your personal space. Any reason you’re handing out special treatment like candy to her?”
“I have my reasons.” I flicked a piece of lint off my sleeve, the picture of undisturbed calm, even as unease glided through my chest. Rhys was a royal pain in my ass, not only because he was one of the few people unafraid to stand up to me, but because he was observant as fuck and knew me better than anyone except Dante. My annoyance ratcheted up another notch when he examined me with…amusement? What the fuck was so funny? “I’m sure you do.” Humor lengthened his drawl. “Catching feelings, Harper?” “Only that of irritation at being interrogated.”
My back teeth clenched before I caught myself and relaxed. “What I do with my life and time is none of your business.” Rhys’s grin widened. “Deflection. Which means I’m right.” His low chuckle sharpened the edges of my displeasure. “Oh, this is rich. I never thought I’d see the day.” Beside him, Josh’s fingers flew over his phone with alarming speed. My eyes narrowed.
“Are you texting Jules?” “Of course not. But in case you’re wondering, the girls will be in the bathroom for…” He checked his phone. “At least another half hour.” Jesus Christ. Of all the people Stella could be friends with, she had to choose these people. “Having feelings is nothing to be ashamed of.” A tiny smile cracked the ice in Alex’s expression. “You’ll get used to it.” The Alex Volkov I knew three years ago would’ve never said such a thing, not even as a joke. Yet another sign that love turned the most level-headed of people into fools. It was enough to make a man want to hunt Cupid down and string the bastard up using his own arrows. Aggravation expanded in my chest. “Don’t start with me. At least I didn’t give up my company to follow a girl around for a year in hopes she would spare me a second glance.” “Yet I have the girl and you’re sitting on a couch arguing with her friends’ significant others,” Alex said mildly. “If you don’t have feelings for Stella, you wouldn’t be so worked up over it.” “Exactly.” Josh nodded like he knew me even though we’d exchanged a total of five words prior to today. My smile was pure ice. “I would spend more time improving your chess skills and less worrying about other people’s business, Josh.
I’ve beat Alex in chess. Have you?” Josh’s smile disappeared. “What do you mean, you’ve beat Alex in chess? When did you play chess together?” He whipped his head toward Alex. “You’ve been playing chess with someone else?” Alex closed his eyes briefly before he opened them and glared at me, his expression filled with frost-tipped venom. My smile widened. “We have a standing chess date every month.” I swirled my drink in my glass. “Didn’t he tell you?” Josh looked stricken. “You have another, secret best friend? But…I’m your best friend! I bought you a banana float for your bachelor party!” “I don’t want a banana float, and he’s not my best friend.”
Alex’s glare intensified. I shrugged, my meaning clear. What can you do? C’est la vie. It wasn’t my fault he was so antisocial that his best friend freaked out at him spending time with someone else. “I can’t believe it. Standing chess date,” Josh muttered furiously. “Was that why you wouldn’t watch the latest Marvel movie with me? Because you know I’ve been dying to see that movie for weeks…” Rhys was too busy laughing to pay attention to the drama unfolding less
than three feet away. “Wait till I tell Bridget. She’s going to love this.” My temporary good mood evaporated. “You won’t tell her shit.” “Sure I won’t.” His big frame shook with mirth. My back teeth clenched with aggravation. If there was one thing I despised, besides incompetence and Valentine’s Day, it was people digging into my personal business. Once upon a time, Alex and Rhys would agree. Now, they were too whipped by their other halves to conduct themselves with a modicum of self-respect. Alex making a joke? Rhys giving up his privacy for a lifetime of paparazzi and ribbon cuttings? It was nauseating. Stella and I were different. I didn’t love her, but I wanted her with an intensity that left the flimsy, overused concept of love in the dust. It wasn’t sweet or saccharine. There were no rainbows or unicorns, only desire edged with roughness and darkness. Hot June days. Secret smiles. Turquoise. I’d waited a long time.
Eventually, I would catch her, and once I did, I was never letting her go.
26
STELLA
I finished the first piece of my collection four days after Josh and Jules’s housewarming. It hung on the back of my door in a spill of silk and sinuous lines, its golden color a stark contrast to the dark wood background. It wasn’t perfect, and the fabric was expensive, which meant I needed a better wholesale option if I wanted to scale up production, but it was done. The first tangible evidence my dreams weren’t just dreams and that I was finally taking concrete steps toward making them reality. A complete draft, no matter how imperfect, was still better than no draft at all. And this was my own pattern, own design. This wasn’t just a quick Simplicity Pattern dress I’d made over Christmas break one year. This was mine. Too much planning is a form of procrastination. Lilah’s words from our coffee date echoed in my head as I ran my hand over the dress’s bodice. The smooth glide of it against my skin sent a thrill darting through my blood. If you want a brand, you need a product. Create a great product, then worry about everything else. The “everything else” encompassed pricing, sourcing, outreach to retail buyers, and a thousand other details that overwhelmed me every time I looked at my to-do list, but I had a product and a plan. Everything else will flow from there. A strange emotion welled in my throat, so unfamiliar it took me a minute to identify it: pride. I hadn’t felt it when I hit a million followers or when I woke up the next day to a flood of brand collab offers. But now, standing in front of a dress that’d taken me a day to sew and a lifetime to create, the warm glow of pride crested over me. My entire life, I’d created for other people. My blog posts were for my audience, my photos were for my followers, my grades had been for my parents, and my ideas had been for D.C.
Style when I worked there. This was the first time in a long time that I’d done something for me, and honestly? It felt damn good. Weightlessness expanded in my chest and pulled a huge smile out of me. I didn’t even care that my monthly family dinner was that night. Nothing could bring me down— My phone lit up with an incoming call from Natalia. …except for a conversation with my sister. My smile dimmed, but enough giddiness remained that my voice came out chirpier than usual when I picked up. “Hey, Nat.” “This is a reminder that Mom and Dad are expecting you to bring your boyfriend tonight.” Natalia dispensed with the niceties. “Remind him