A tiny smile lifted one side of her mouth. “I already do.” The waves of her vibrant hair caught glints of light as she tilted her head. The sun reflecting in her dove gray eyes reminded me of when we’d first met, and I’d asked her if she was an autumn fairy. She’d said yes and that I could be one too. We’d been best friends ever since. I knew I could tell her anything, but right now the words wouldn’t come.
So I forced my thoughts away from Golden Boy, took a sip of cinnamony chocolate, and changed the subject. “Was your dad still acting weird before you left?”
“Oh yeah, he kept hugging me and telling me how he’s proud of me and knows I’ll make the right decision.”
“He didn’t try to have the sex talk with you before you jetted off to the land flowing with legal ale and hot boys in kilts, did he?”
She snorted, causing several customers to turn in their seats and stare. “No. It’s a little late for that anyway.”
“Wait. What?” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “Did you and your leading man from Seussical … you know?” I wiggled my eyebrows.
“Me and the Cat in the Hat? No way—he doesn’t even play for my team. I was talking about Weston.” My blank stare prompted her to clarify. “The hot associate director from my internship.”
Her audition in Chicago had happened months ago. I knew she thought the associate director was cute, but she’d never said anything about hooking up with him. “Ummm. Did you guys—”
“No—I mean, not yet. But who knows? We totally shared a moment after my audition.” She rummaged around in her bag, pulled out her phone, and shoved it under my nose. “Here’s Weston’s picture. Talk about tall, blond, and yummy. And he included a handwritten note in my acceptance page about how he couldn’t wait to start working with me in August. His penmanship was so …”
I didn’t hear the rest; the image of my own golden-haired dream boy filled my head, eclipsing everything else.
“Earth to Vee … Did you hear what I just said?”
“Sure. The pedophile director was hitting on you … yada yada yada.” I pinched off a piece of scone, the buttery layers and sugary-yet-tart strawberries melting on my tongue. “Mmmm! This is amazing.”
“Even better than Mrs. Russo’s, right?” She slapped a hand over her mouth, no doubt realizing she’d mentioned Eric’s mom. Her voice filled with apology. “Sorry. It just slipped out.”
I tightened my stomach, bracing for the wave of pain—that never came. Instead, a lazy, enigmatic grin filled me with an overwhelming yearning that I’d never felt for my ex. Maybe Golden Boy was my subconscious’s way of helping me move on?
“It’s no big deal. I mean, Eric’s betrayal was … a big deal, but …” I sat up straighter as I struggled to put my thoughts into words. “What I mean is, Eric’s ancient history. He has nothing to do with Scotland or my future.”
“What you need, my amiga, is a rebound guy. Some totally random Scottish hottie to get you over Eric.” Kenna clapped her hands and bounced enthusiastically in her seat, having no idea how close her comment was to my fantasy.
She pointed, not so discreetly, toward the dark-haired boy wiping down the counter. “What about that cute barista? When I gave him my order, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you long enough to even acknowledge me.”
I scrunched up my nose, resisting the urge to count his numerous visible tattoos. “I don’t know …”
Kenna noticed that her exuberance had drawn the attention of the other patrons, so she leaned forward and whispered, “Commence Operation MacHottie. I am sooo gonna be your wingman.”
I stuffed the rest of the scone into my mouth before answering. “Just because you’re saving yourself for Weston doesn’t mean you can’t have a summer fling too.”
“Right. I can just picture exotic boys falling at your petite feet, while I get pity dates with their ogre sidekicks. No thanks.”
I marveled at how clueless Kenna was to her appeal. She’d been turning heads since fourth grade, yet she acted as if she was invisible to guys. Like that was remotely possible.