Page 95 of Anton

“Anyway…” he says. “We are who we are, right? Nothing is gonna change that.”

“Yep. And I think we’re pretty awesome.”

“You, maybe.” He chuckles. “I’m still a work in progress.”

“Aren’t we all?”

After that, we fall back into easier conversation. By the time we head back to the farm, I feel lighter than I have all week.

It isn’t until much later, when I’m lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, that Anton slams into my thoughts again. As I roll onto my side, all I want is the hippo he gave me tucked against my chest. But it’s back at my place, abandoned with everything else we left behind.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

THORA

“Oh, come on. One date,” Blair practically begs the next day as we walk into a small clothing boutique.

She hasn’t said much about Anton, but I know she knows something happened, that whatever this was between us is over. And now she’s doing everything she can to keep my mind off him.

Her next brilliant idea? A double date with Brayden and his best friend.

Obviously, I know nothing is going to happen with him, but a part of me wonders if maybe saying yes would be good for me. I need to get out of the house, and it’s not like I’ll be alone with him. Blair will be there.

She bumps her hip against mine. “Just say yes. I can tell you want to.”

My lips twitch as I glance over at her. “You can tell, huh?”

“Yes.” She grins. “I promise he’s a nice guy. He’s also literally dying to take you out.”

I blow out an exasperated breath, heading toward a rack of summer dresses. “Fine. One date. That’s it.”

“Victory!” She throws both arms in the air, and all I can do is laugh.

When she pulls out her phone and starts typing, I ask, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Telling the poor man you finally said yes.”

I press my fingers to my temple. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“We don’t have forever, and you’ve got to get laid.”

“Blair!” I whisper, glancing around the store just as an older woman gives us a disapproving look.

She slips the phone back into her handbag, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

“So when is this date happening?” I lift up a light pink skater dress and hold it against myself in the full-length mirror.

“Tomorrow night.”

I turn toward her. “What? That soon?”

“Yeah. Why not?” She scrunches her face like the answer should be obvious. “I’m sick of seeing you all pitiful.”

When I try to argue, she lifts her hand to stop me.

“Don’t you dare feed me some bullshit. I know what I see. So tomorrow, we’re going to get you all dolled up, put on your reddest lipstick, and post a bunch of pictures so he who shall not be named can eat his heart out.”

“I’m not doing that.”