Kristen comes to our table and slides a tall glass of orange juice in front of my sister, along with two plates of pancakes, eggs, and hash browns, before ruffling Daisy’s hair and leaving again. I reach for the strawberry syrup while she grabs the blueberry kind beside it.
“No news. She’s still avoiding me,” I say.
“Do you want me to pretend to be shocked?”
“Not at all. I do expect you to show me some sympathy, though. Maybe.”
She drowns her stack of pancakes in deep purple syrup before glancing up at me, disbelief heavy in her gaze. “Sympathy? As if. I think a part of you loves having to chase after her for attention. Personally, I think it’s good for you.”
“You think it’s good for me to have to pant after a woman like a dog?”
Shrugging a shoulder, she answers, “You’re too used to getting your own way all the time. Aurora is putting you through the wringer, and personally, yes, I think it’s highly entertaining. But also, you need to struggle a bit from time to time. It builds character, you know?”
I choke on a startled laugh. “I have plenty of character already.”
“Clearly not. Maybe she thinks you’re boring.”
“Me? Come on, Daisy. We both know my being boring is not the issue here.”
She slices into her pancakes with her knife and fork before stabbing a piece and lifting it to her mouth, hovering it there. “Alright. Well, she could just not be into you like that.”
I’m shaking my head instantly. “Nah, that’s not it either.”
Chewing her bite of pancake, she lifts a brow.
“You weren’t there that night in Peakside. If you were, you would know that physical attraction isn’t the issue.”
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night since. Four weeks is a long time to dwell on one single memory, but it’s all I have. Not for lack of trying, but because Aurora has avoided me like the plague since she slipped herself out of my arms and hightailed it out of the bar without looking back.
Maybe she’s forgotten all about it, but fuck, I haven’t. And I plan on reminding her as soon as the time is right. I recognized something there between us. Something incredible. A spark that I haven’t felt a single time in my life before then. Not with anyone.
I’m not going to let it go without at least speaking to her again.
Unfortunately, it’s a bit hard to speak with her when she makes an obvious effort to be everywhere but where I am. I’m one more Saturday night without her presence away from marching my ass down to the salon to take matters into my own hands.
Surely, I didn’t make the entire thing up. No. There was something there, and I’ll risk sounding like a complete weirdo by standing with that statement.
Daisy takes a swig of her orange juice before stabbing two pieces of pancakes with her fork. “Well, what are you going to do, then? I love you to death, but I can only take hearing the same story so many times before I want to slam my head into a wall.”
“I don’t talk about it that often. You asked me about her today,” I say accusingly.
“Yeah, that’s true. I did. I’m just not used to seeing you so knotted up. You’re supposed to be the calm, easygoing one of us. I’m too stressed to pick up your slack.”
I narrow my eyes, focusing on her mention of stress. “Is something going on? Outside of the usual?”
“No, you overbearing baboon. I’m just saying. If you need advice, I can give you some, but I don’t have a lot of experience with stalker-like men.”
I scoff, scooping a pile of pancake into my mouth while flashing her my middle finger. Once I’ve swallowed my mouthful, I say, “You’re a brat. I’m not a damn stalker. I don’t even know where she lives.”
She gasps, hand to her mouth. “What? Maybe not all hope is lost after all.”
“I’m going to get up and leave if you keep picking on me.”
Laughing lowly, she wipes her mouth with a napkin and settles back in the booth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. For real, though, have you asked her friends for more info on her? Like why she took off on you and has avoided you like she’s scared you’ll give her a rash or something.”
“No. I wanted to try and figure it out on my own first.”
“And how’s that been going?”