Page 45 of Wicked & Wildflower

She smiles softly, squeezing my hand. “I know. What can I do?”

I blink at her question, because I’m not sure how to answer. Somehow, touching her makes everything a little easier. Looking at her makes me feel better. Speaking with her makes the weight lighter. All she has to do is exist, and I feel like I’m going to be alright.

“Dance with me?” I find myself asking.

She chuffs. “Of course. I can do that.”

We stand from our chairs, and she allows me to lead her to the dance floor where soft, classical renditions of modern songs play. Darby and Leo dance slowly on the other side of the room, entirely caught up in their own world, and I imagine Darby’s providing him the same comfort I’m so desperate for.

I turn around, pulling Dahlia into me, wrapping both arms tightly around her waist. She lets hers loop around my neck as we begin to sway. “I miss my sister.” I sigh, surprised by how easy the words fall from my mouth. “Sometimes, it feels like I’m not just grieving for Zach, but for her too. It’s like…I don’t even know who she is anymore, like she might as well have just…”I trail off, unwilling to finish the sentence. “That feels heavier today, I guess.”

She’s quiet for a moment as she contemplates what I’ve said. Her fingers brush against the hair at my nape, sending chills up my spine. “I get it. I think I would feel the same way. There is this weird connection with siblings when you’re so close, and it’s hard to be far apart. I imagine it’s even stronger when you’re twins.”

I nod, feeling understood for the first time in a while.

“I’m sorry this brings all that to the surface for you, but I hope next time it happens, you stop dissociating or holding it in. It’s okay if you feel like nobody understands. We’ll still be there for you.” She’s looking at my lips as she says those words, but her eyes slowly drag up to my own, searing right through me. “I’ll still be there for you.”

“Even if all I want you to do is dance with me?”

She smiles. “Even if all you want to do is dance.”

I grip her harder, dropping my chin so my forehead brushes softly against hers. “You’ve made this easier.”

“You make things easier too,” she whispers.

I let my eyes fall closed, soaking in this moment with her. I know it’s not real. It was only meant to be a few camera flashes to fuck with her dad. A few lunch dates to impress mine. That’s all this is supposed to be.

But the way Dahlia sighs against me, the way her body meshes into mine—a flawless fit beneath my hands—it feels as if all the fear and grief and stress in our lives melts away. We spin on the dance floor in momentary peace, and I can’t ignore the fact that this doesn’t feel fake at all.

18

Wildflower

Making Sure He Knows You’re Mine

Parents are fucking mean.

I’ve never been one to fit in with a crowd, really. I had some surface-level high school friends. I thought I’d met my ride-or-dies in college when I fell in with Jason’s group, but they all abandoned me once I got pregnant.

People I’ve never fit in with, though, are the school moms. I’ve always been a solid decade younger than the majority of them, and especially back home in Kansas, being Dane Andrews’ black sheep daughter was like having a warning label on my forehead. I won’t pretend I wasn’t hopeful things would change once I got to Pacific Shores, but a lot of these people are just as catty, small-minded, and rude as those I dealt with back home.

It started with a parent-teacher night when I was repeatedly asked if I was Lou’s sister or her aunt, followed by wide-eyed sneers when I confirmed that I was, in fact, her mother. Then, I showed up on the first day of school in Everett’s Jeep, whichis apparently well-known. Ever since, it has been cold shoulders and fake smiles, being left out of conversations or glared at across parking lots. I don’t have any interest in befriending most of them anyway, but I can only hope their mean streak doesn’t extend to their children, because Lou is loving it here.

She has made several friends, though she hasn’t asked to see any of them outside of school yet. She doesn’t seem concerned about it, so I pretend I’m not either. Today is her first soccer game, and she seems close with most of her teammates. My heart soars as I watch her excitedly run out onto the field and meet up with her friends.

Of course, it’s just my luck that the girls she has grown closest with happen to have the moms who seem to make a hobby out of burning holes through the side of my face with their eyes. It’s fine, though. Today, I brought reinforcements.

A group of parents huddle in a circle on the other end of the bleachers, stealing glances every few seconds, no doubt hyper-focused on the six-foot-something, tattooed mechanic hulking over me. I shift under Everett’s arm draped around my shoulder, but I don’t remove it. Being this close to him gives me comfort—something I’m afraid to admit to both him and myself.

It’s been three weeks since we finalized our faux relationship agreement, two since the Hayes Foundation Banquet. I’d known Everett had a friend who died, but I hadn’t realized how deep those cuts ran. I’m not even sure Leo knows just how affected Everett still is. After we danced, the night went on more smoothly. He seemed present, at least. I could tell Leo was struggling too, but when we got home that night, he went to bed with my sister. He wasn’t alone. Leaving Everett by himself almost killed me, but with my daughter sleeping upstairs and his mother waiting up for us, I couldn’t easily invite him to bed with me. Not to mention that having Everett Ramos anywhere near my bed is a detrimental idea.

I’d probably never let him leave it again.

Plus, Lou’s getting increasingly comfortable having Everett around. We explained to her that we’re friends, and we enjoy spending time together. Neither are lies, but to the adults of the world, we’re putting off the air that much more is going on behind closed doors. While Lou may not understand all of that, she’s still getting attached to him. Eventually, this fake relationship with Everett will end, and so will my situation with my dad and Jason. Either they’ll finally go away and let us move on, which means Everett will move on too, or they’ll win, and I’ll have to take her back to Kansas.

Everett may always be around in some capacity. As her uncle’s brother. As a friend. But eventually, space is going to exist between us, and I don’t want Lou being hurt by that.

A snide cackle of laughter erupts from the circle down the field, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance over to find a group of parents snickering as their eyes flicker back and forth between them and myself.

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