Page 32 of Try Hard
“I know,” Ophelia said, more genuine now, and she glanced at the gathered crowd. “If all the bridesmaids can inadvertently coordinate on such pretty florals for a casual brunch, I can only imagine how beautiful the actual day will be.”
Sammy faltered, more confused than ever by Ophelia. But that was her all over—standoffish but not unkind. She’d even taken a vacation from her life to come to an old school friend’s wedding. There was a weird energy between her and Sammy, but she was still kind enough to support Kim. She hadn’t even needed to compliment the florals—most of the bridesmaids were wearing dresses, but she’d commented specifically on the florals to include Sammy in her jeans and floral shirt.
Ophelia was that complicated book again, and all I wanted was to get inside and read every page.
“Fia here is a writer,” Tanika cut in. “She travels all over the world seeing glorious places, so I guess we know we’ve made it if she thinks it’s beautiful!”
Ophelia shot her a sweet look, and I hated the tiny twinge of jealousy that shot up inside me. I wasn’t generally a jealous person, and Tanika had a husband she adored—and Ophelia barely even liked people. But she and Tanika had been friends at school. Close ones. She’d always had a part of Ophelia I never had, and I wished I knew how to get there.
“Right. The travel thing. Kim mentioned.” Sammy cleared her throat. “Tanika, we should go check in with her actually. It’ll be time to eat soon.”
Tanika beamed, the only one who seemed oblivious to the tension in the air, and gripped Ophelia’s shoulders briefly. “We’ll catch up properly in a bit, yeah?” And she ran off with Sammy without waiting for an answer.
Ophelia sipped her orange juice, watching them go and pretending she didn’t see me sliding closer to her. “I don’t think your friend likes me.”
I laughed. “Did you want her to?”
She shrugged. “I don’t want to make things complicated for Kim.” She shot me a quick, sidelong look. “Or you.”
I ignored the way my heart swooped. “I only just met her. She seems nice enough, but it’s hardly going to impact my life.”
“In my experience, people who spend that long touching someone’s biceps aren’t looking to remain random, casual acquaintances.”
“Is this you telling me you regularly have people feeling up those swimmer’s arms of yours?”
Her face crumpled hilariously with disgust. “Absolutely not. It’s me pointing out that Sammy wasflirting with you. Do people hit on you everywhere you go?”
I snorted. “No.” It was just my luck that I’d been in two different places with her and she wasn’t the one hitting on me.
“At least you’re not denying the fact that you were being hit on this time.”
I looked her over. That could be jealousy from someone else, but she didn’t seem jealous. She seemed the same as always. I shrugged. “She was a little obvious, but it’s nothing serious.”
“You’re not interested?”
“No. And I don’t really think she is, either.”
Her eyes were wide when she looked at me and placed her glass back on the bar. “Are you serious? Of course she is. She was practically drooling over you.”
Jealousy? Ophelia had nothing to be jealous of. But, of course, she still didn’t actually seem interested—just like she was annoyed with me for being oblivious.
I sipped the remnants of my own drink. “We’ve been through this,” I told her, amused. “People like to flirt with celebrities. It makes them feel good. It’s not really about me.”
“You were just giving her day a boost by flirting with her.” Her tone was so flat, so unbothered.
“I didn’t flirt with her.”
She eyed me. “She seemed to think you did.”
“Because she was flirting with me?”
Ophelia shrugged, looking across the crowd. “Yeah. And she was annoyed that Tanika and I interrupted you.”
I grinned. “You didn’t. I invited myself into your conversation.”
Something shadowed across her face, some thoughts that went deeper than her words. “And you called me Fia.”
“You called me Archer.”
