18. Chapter 18

Chapter eighteen

Silas

I would really like to kiss Fenella.

Like, really really want to kiss her.

But the little voice inside puts a stop to any moves I might still have. Not she's not going to kiss you back , because I'm fairly certain Fenella would be very into kissing me back. But the one that keeps repeating— she's leaving .

"What would you be doing if you were home?" I ask to torture myself.

Fenella starts like she was deep in her own thoughts. "Do you know why I'm here?"

"Laandia is a great place to visit?" She smiles and I continue. "I thought it had something to do with the video of you throwing a fairly substantial ring at your fiancé."

"Ex-fiancé, just so we're clear. He's very ex."

Good to know.

"My father suggested I stay out of sight until it all blows over," Fenella continues. "His suggestion was more of an order than a request. I've been wanting to work for the company for a few years, and I thought he was going to make that happen, but then Tiger happened. Public embarrassment and no job."

"That's…" All I can think of is that's what she's got waiting for her at home. Not a man, not friends who will be more fun, more entertaining than I could ever be, but a job.

And I've already figured out that it's important for Fenella to prove herself.

"Yeah. It's that," she says heavily. "I've been basically exiled here. Not that it's a bad place to be exiled. Gunnar offered a room in the castle, and I didn't even think of going anywhere else."

"I think it's great that the two of you are such good friends still."

"It really is," she agrees. "And thankfully Stella isn't one to get jealous. I had a boyfriend who hated the fact I had male friends. Super red flag there. He didn't last long."

"How did you meet Gunnar?"

"Through my brother, when they were both racing for Red Bull. That's an awful lot of questions you're trying to fit in there, you know."

"I thought I'd update your Wikipedia page while you're here," I joke. Fenella laughs loud enough to disrupt something in the bush to the side. "Seriously, though, I think you're interesting." That didn't come out too awkward.

It might have had I admitted that I find her fascinating.

"Well, I think you're interesting too." She meets my gaze, holds it for a long moment until I drop my chin .

"I own a coffee shop and look at stars. I don't even have a cat," I tell her ruefully.

"Do cats make you interesting?"

"Of course, they're basically the devil incarnate. It takes a certain type of person to survive their evil wiles."

"Are we talking about the same cats? Cute, furry, little toe beans on their paws? Or do you mean the naked cats, because yes, I'll give you that. They are evil."

I laugh.

I can't kiss her. As much as I want to, I'm not going to, because it will ruin this wonderful bubble we've created. This friendship, the magic, whatever else I can call what's developed between us.

Even if I kiss her, she's still going to leave, and I don't want it to be more difficult than it's going to be.

"I'm really good at the dating part," she admits like she can read my mind. "It's the relationships that I get mucked up on."

"What was your longest relationship?" I ask. "Or is that too much to ask?"

"No, that's something you'd ask your friend," she teases. "Not my friends, because they'd already know everything about it, thanks to pictures and social media posts about it. My longest was actually Gunnar. Six months."

"But you were engaged?"

"Twice. Both were spur-of-the-moment things—I only knew Lennon for a couple of days. We met at Paris Fashion Week when we were modelling for Gucci. Lennon Gallagher?" I shake my head. "Have you heard of Oasis? Big in the 90s? That's his dad's band. It annoys me when everyone thinks Millie Bobby Brown is so cool for being with Jon Bon Jovi's son, and they all forget I had a rocker's son first."

My ego, which had shrivelled slightly after last night, now tucks itself up and into my pocket at the name-dropping Fenella does. There is no way I can kiss her now.

No way.

But still, I trudge forward because this is what you do with friends. "And the second time was with… Tiger?"

Fenella rolls her eyes. "Worst mistake ever. Actually, I dated a hockey player once—he who shall not be named—and that was an even bigger mistake. No more hockey players. No more musicians, either. Lennon played in a band too."

"Maybe you should just stay away from famous men," I suggest.

"Yeah." The way she looks at me… "Maybe."

We stay on the bench for a while longer. I point out stars as they appear, we ask each other questions about our lives.

There's not much we have in common, but it's fun. I'm having fun. Fenella laughs a lot.

I don't kiss her.

"What you said to Wyatt last night," I say instead. "I assume you were talking about yourself."

She rolls her eyes. "No, my twin brother."

"Really? But you—"

"Yes, it was about me. But I don't mention my relationship with my mother as a rule, except if I'm paying three hundred dollars and lying on a therapist's couch."

"Therapy is a good thing."

"You don't sound convinced."

"My mother thinks we should get Wyatt to talk to someone," I tell her.

"Because he's gay or because he has mother issues."

"He's handling the gay thing really well. He came out when he was eleven to his best friend while they were playing video games. Wyatt told me he seemed unimpressed but beat him in Fortnite so things went well."

She frowns. "As opposed to Wyatt beating him?"

"His way of thinking was that if Jack had issues with him, he would have let Wyatt win or not played against him at all. I can't say I understand his logic."

"As long as it makes sense to him. I've never understood the draw of Fortnite either."

"You've played?"

"Twin brother, remember? I bet you're a gamer."

"Board games, actually."

"You should have board games in your coffee shop. Bring in the non-coffee crowd."

"That's… a good idea."

"I know. Don't sound so surprised. You should know by now that I'm full of them."

Fenella laughs. I like the way it sounds. I like hearing it. Her straight-out belly laugh is contagious.

Sometimes I forget to laugh with her because I'm smiling at her so much.

"I probably shouldn't have said anything about Wyatt," I muse.

"I let it slip that my mother values her handbag more than me, so we're fair. I don't mention my mother to anyone, but listening to how Wyatt sounds so hung up about an absent mother who never should have gotten pregnant in the first place— Sorry," she checks herself. "That's your sister."

"It is."

"I'm sure that is pretty tough for a sixteen-year-old to deal with, but the kid seems to have everything else going for him. I like him."

"I'll be sure to tell him. Like I said, he's your biggest fan."

Eventually, I wrap Fenella in the blanket and tuck her under my arm, but I can still feel her shivers.

She's so cold, but she's just as reluctant as I am to end tonight.

Eventually, I make the call and we head back to the car. The heat goes on full blast, but she keeps the music quiet.

"You need a warmer coat," I say after her teeth have stopped chattering and we're almost back to town.

"It's first on my list. I'll have to give Coy back his blanket."

"I wouldn't bother. You might need it again."

"Does this mean we can do this again? "

The hope in her voice makes my heart stutter; seriously stutter like it needs a kickstart. But I keep my voice even like she didn't just rock my world with a simple question. "You want to work for me, and hang out? That's a lot of me," I warn her.

"I think I can handle it," she says with all the confidence of knowing what she wants.

Or maybe it's knowing she can have what she wants.

I'm not sure that's going to work out for me.

All too soon, Fenella pulls up in front of the shop. "I had no idea you lived next door," she says, staring at the empty storefront next door. "What used to be in there?"

"Flower shop, an attempt at Mexican food, cookies. The latest was an insurance guy."

"I guess I thought you still lived with your parents."

"I'm thirty years old," I tell her ruefully. "I shouldn't be living with my parents. I moved here after the insurance guy bunked off," I add.

"At least you have your own place," she says in a wistful voice.

Is that because I have my own place and she doesn't, or because she'd appreciate the privacy of my own place?

That doesn't help the fact my mind is swinging like a pendulum.

Kiss her.

Run.

Kiss her.

Run.

Instead of doing either, I sit there in the car and try to look anywhere but at Fenella.

"Silas." Fenella puts a hand on my leg.

"You're leaving," I blurt.

"Not yet."

"But you're leaving."

She sighs, and it's as if the air is expelled from my own body. I like this woman. I like her a lot. And it's not the silly infatuation I felt looking at her Instagram posts and TikTok videos. Fenella is surprisingly sweet and funny, and honest. Growing up entitled and in the most luxurious of settings has given her issues, but I'm amazed at how down-to-earth she really is.

Or maybe that's just who she is around me. Here, in Laandia. She would be a totally different person elsewhere, when she needs to show the world everything about her.

I like how she is around me.

But she will leave and I will not.

"Can I still work for you?" Fenella's a smart woman—she knows what's going on, why I'm putting on the brakes.

I'm grateful I don't have to say anything more. "Even if I said no, I don't think you'd listen. You'd show up and start making drinks."

"I like making drinks. Maybe that's my calling."

I can't resist—reaching out, I touch her cheek with the back of my hand. Her skin is soft and still cold. A tendril of her dark hair snags around my finger, soft and silky. "I think your calling will be something much bigger than making drinks," I tell her seriously. "That's why I'm going to say goodnight."

I open the door and slide out of the car.

"Goodnight, Silas," she calls after me, her voice heavy with resignation.