Page 16 of Between Now & Heartbreak

“Start talking, sister.” I’d forgotten Dina was sitting next to me.

I nearly jump out of my skin, but the afterglow of Carter lingers and I can’t help but smile through the rush of embarrassment at being caught staring.

“His voice is great.” I keep my voice light and make a feeble attempt to find our server.

Not that a drink is going to do me any good.

My circuits are fried from the overload of emotions

“Are you okay?” She frowns and peers closely at me.

“Yeah,” I cover my breathless voice with a cough.

“Liz …did something happen between you two?“ Dina asks quietly.

“No,” I say instantly and then, I drop my head into my hands and rub my eyes.

“So, I guess that hair on your head isn’t blonde, either?” She pokes at me hard.

I rub the spot on my arm where her finger jabbed me. I know I deserve it, and more, for lying to her. But, I can’t help the way my hackles rise.

I have to hold onto my anger and my resentment all the time. But the combination of seeing Carter, Dina’s accusing question, my self-loathing thoughts prove to be the pound that busts the button I’ve been using to hold it all back.

“Fuckingstopit, Dina,” I hiss.

“Why? You’re telling me to believeyouinstead of my own eyes, right?” She flicks a lock of hair off my shoulder.

“Can you just let it go? I’m serious.”

“Yeah, serious about ignoring the herd of elephants in the room.”

I run a self-conscious hand over my wig.

“What do you mean?” I glare at her.

She leans in, unrelenting and undeterred by my growing anger.

“Whyare you blonde?Whyare you dressed like you’re going to tea at your country club?Whyfor the love of everything that is fucking holy are you talking aboutmarryingDuke Tremaine?”

She says the questions like she’s been holding them in and is about to burst.

“Not this, again. Please, Dina.”

“Oh yes, again and again until you tell me the truth. I don’t understand it. He’s…”

“He’s what?” I ask. I feel compelled to defend him. I’ve made my bed and so far, he’s the only person who’s done anything to actually help me.

She takes in the obstinate look on my face and changes tactics. Her expression softens and she relaxes her shoulders.

“What about your art, then? You’re so talented. Are you just giving up on it?”

I ignore the wave of longing so thick I could choke on it.

Eyes on the prize.

“I’m not a little girl dreaming of things that aren’t possible. Duke is a catch. Do you know how many girls would die to be his girl?”

“You don’t love him,” she says flatly.

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