Page 100 of Bourbon Bliss
Scarlett put her hands on her hips, her head tilting up toward the sign. “He better not if he knows what’s good for him.”
Cassidy laughed. “Bowie already asked me.”
“He did?” Scarlett asked. “I mean, that’s good, he better. Did Jameson ask you, Leah Mae?”
Leah Mae nodded, then clutched her hands to her chest. “We should all go shopping for dresses. And I’ll do our accessories.”
“Sounds fun,” Cassidy said. “What about you, Juney? Did George ask you to the dance?”
“This entire conversation is oddly juvenile,” I said. “You sound like you’re in high school.”
“Aw, don’t be grumpy because you don’t have a date yet,” Cassidy said, nudging me with her arm. “I bet he’s planning on asking you.”
“He’s my boyfriend.”
“That’s my point,” Cassidy said.
By the looks the girls were sharing, I got the impression they knew something—or understood something—that I didn’t. The truth was, I was experiencing a strange surge of jealousy toward Cassidy and Leah Mae. They had prom dates. I did not. It stood to reason that if George wished to attend the Do-Over Prom, he’d ask me to accompany him. But he hadn’t. What did that mean?
I hadn’t seen much of George in the last week. Since we’d returned from Philadelphia, he’d been busier than normal. I’d been busy with work as well as continuing my quest to uncover more information about the supposed Callie Kendall.
I’d spent my evenings reading more of the books Piper had recommended. But I was beginning to wonder if exploring my emotions through reading romantic fiction was as good an idea as I’d originally thought. I’d found myself alternatively laughing, crying, and feeling inexplicably aroused, depending on the content of the stories. Each book was like an emotional roller coaster. I couldn’t decide if I liked the ride, or if it had been better when I’d pushed my feelings aside, only observing them occasionally.
“Don’t worry, Juney, I’m sure he’s going to ask you,” Leah Mae said.
As if on cue, George turned the corner, appearing in front of us. He was dressed in a gray waffle knit shirt and jeans. His dark hair was delightfully combed back and in his hands—those hands that I still found inexplicably fascinating—was a large… something wrapped in crisp brown paper.
“Ladies,” he said, then met my eyes. “June Bug.”
He handed the something to me. At first glance, it looked as if it was going to be a bouquet of flowers. But it wasn’t flowers. It was a Romanesco broccoli.
I stared at the beautiful chartreuse flower bud. It resembled a cross between cauliflower and broccoli, but what made it amazing was its natural approximation of a fractal. “This is so beautiful.”
“I’m sorry if this is a silly question, but what is that?” Scarlett asked.
“Romanesco broccoli,” George said. “Its buds form a natural fractal, the branches making a logarithmic spiral.”
“It’s math in flower form,” I said, my voice awed.
“Wow,” Scarlett said. “He’s good.”
Cassidy, Scarlett, and Leah Mae started backing up slowly, leaving me and George somewhat alone on the sidewalk.
“Thank you,” I said. “This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever given me. It’s very visually pleasing.”
“So are you,” he said, and I heard a muffledawfrom behind me. Apparently the girls hadn’t gone far. “I have something to ask you.”
My eyes flicked up to the banner, then back to him. There was no reason my heart should have been racing the way it was, nor that I should have been experiencing such a rush of excitement. It made no sense for my bloodstream to suddenly fill with adrenaline, as if this was a crucial life moment. If he was about to ask what I thought he was about to ask, it was just a dance—and an odd dance at that.
But in that moment, I really wanted him to ask.
“I was wondering if you’d be my date for the Do-Over Prom?”
My brain flooded with endorphins and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Yes. I would love to be your date.”
He stepped in, slipping a hand around my waist, and leaned down to kiss me.
“They’re so cute, I can’t stand it.”
