Page 169 of Dove
Her face softened. “That’s all I want for you, too, babe. Even if that means living your best kinkyCredencelife, then so be it.”
I snatched my hand out of hers with an indignant huff. “Way to ruin the moment.”
She snickered, but I was happy to hear it. I had no problems with my best friend confiding in me, but it hurt me to see her so torn. Uncertain and adrift. She was clearly struggling on where her heart wanted to call home.
There was no doubt in my mind on how much Reverie loved Zeke. Her leaving wasn’t just for purely selfish reasons. She wanted him to live his best life, and she’d confided in me all those years ago that if she stayed in Haven and created a life with him, she wasn’t sure she could give it to him. She was too restless in our small town—too resentful. She was afraid if she stayed because she loved him, she’d grow to resent him, too. It had been one of her biggest fears, and one of her biggest motivators for leaving.
“I can’t do that to him, Dove,” she’d whispered to me the night she’d laid out her plan to leave after graduation, both of us sprawled out on our backs on my bed, the house quiet as everyone but us slept peacefully under its roof. “I love him too much to do that. He deserves more than me. He deserves the world.”
“Youarehis world, Rev,” I’d whispered back, because it was true. Zeke saw only Reverie when she was around, everyone else fading into the background when she walked into the room.
“That scares me,” she’d admitted, sounding young. But then again, we were. “How can I be his world when he hasn’t even experienced it? How can he be mine? How can we know that?”
Her questions were soft and pleading, and my heart clenched in my chest, wishing I knew the answers.
“I don’t know, Rev. I think you just have to trust your feelings.”
Her hair had swished against the comforter as she shook her head. “No, I can’t. Not on this. If I stay in Haven... it won’t end well for either of us. I knowthat.”
Her flight had been booked the next day.
The problem was Reverie didn’t trust her feelings. She second guessed everything, because nothing in her life had ever been stable. Her mother had crumbled after their father left, and while she nevereversaidit, I suspected a large part of her was afraid of losing Zeke, and maybe even Haven, in a way. So, in order to protect herself from the potential hurt, she kept them at a distance.
If she was beginning to want to give it a chance here, that was big. It was the kind of step she had to do becauseshewanted to do it. No one else.
“I’m proud of you,” I told her as she stood up to go back to drying my hair. “I just want you to know that.”
She leaned over to place a kiss on my head. “I’m proud of you, too, babe. Now let me dry your fucking hair without making me cry all over you about myfeelings.”She made a face of disgust in the mirror.
“God forbid,” I muttered, but she couldn’t hear me over the sound of the dryer.
Reverie unsnapped the cape around my neck and pulled it off with a flourish. I ran my hands through my hair, in awe at how different it looked just from a simple haircut.
“It feels so soft," I murmured, my eyes fixed on the mirror where my hair was shiny and bouncy from the way she’d dried it. It still fell past my shoulders, but I could tell she’d cut a few inches off. Nothing I’d needed to hold onto, clearly.
“The power of a good haircut,” she replied as she went to put the used cape and towels in the laundry.
I watched as she rounded the corner into the backroom, and I sprang into action, grabbing the small crossbody I’d brought with me and opening it to find my wallet. I had just begun to pull it out when I heard my name called.
“Dove Riley, you better not be hiding any money in my drawer.”
I winced, wallet half unzipped as she came out from the back room. Her eyes narrowed.
Caught, I protested, “I want to pay you.Letme pay you!”
“What’s the point of having a best friend as a hairdresser if you can’t reap the benefits?” she fired back. “Consider it a perk!”
“You deserve to be paid, perk or not.” I was not going to let this go.
We glared at one another from across the salon, until finally Reverie sighed in defeat.
“I’m not taking your damn money,” she groused, but when I made a noise of complaint she added, “Iwilltake payment in the form of food, however. I’m fucking starving.”
“I can do that.” I tucked my wallet back in for now and slung my crossbody over me. “What do you want?”
Her manicured finger tapped her chin in thought. “You know, I kind of want ice cream.”
“Ice cream for dinner?” I questioned, doubtfully.
