Page 50 of Close Knit

Cameron approaches a bartender adorned with giant blue butterfly wings.

A gorgeous merman appears at my side, his bare chest glittering beneath the lights. “Is this Missoni?” He tugs at my sweater.

“No. I made it.” I smile.

“Can I buy one?” His head bobs with the music.

“Only the pattern.”

He retrieves his phone from his glistening tail pocket, opens Instagram, and hands it to me. I enter my username, and heclicks follow, leaning in close. “What do I have to do to get you to make me one?”

I laugh. “Show me how you did your hair.” I run a finger over his blue seashell braid.

He scrolls through his account. He’s a hairdresser, a very prominent one at that.

“Stop by the salon, and we’ll trade!” he shouts back.

I beam. “Deal.”

My new friend dives back into the crowd, and I look up at Cameron watching the exchange. I wave him over. He sets a colorful cup brimming with ice in front of me, and I down the liquid.

“Thank you! This has been the best afternoon.”

“You make a new friend?”

“Yes! I love people!” I say loudly, leaning into his shoulder. “In a world with social media, I think all of us are starved for human connection.”

He doesn’t respond or lean away. I stretch my neck to see his face, his eyes boring into mine. The garden melts away.

A monarch butterfly floats above us, perching itself on top of Cameron’s head before it flits off in a different direction. Animals always have good instincts about people.

Without thinking, I brush my thumb over the hoop dangling in his ear. “I like this.”

“Brooklyn got her ears pierced a few years back,” he says. “She wouldn’t stop complaining about how bad it hurt. I joked that it couldn’t be that bad.”

“Never underestimate a woman’s pain!”

He throws up his hands in defense. “Learned my lesson. She dared me to do it, and Dante grabbed a lighter, ice, a sewing needle, and an apple before he impaled me.”

“I know a thing or two about getting impaled by a Hastings,” I blurt out with a laugh. That was so inappropriate, but my sense of humor comes out naturally with him. “Regret it?”

“Helped me get girls. Though some say it makes me look like a pirate wannabe.”

“Guess I owe you an apology for that.” I giggle.

“You really don’t.” He brushes me off with another knee-weakening wink. It makes me thankful I’m sitting down, or my swooning would give him another reason to catch me.

Play it cool, Daph. Be friends!“So, does Dante live in London?” I ask, taking another sip.

“No. He does fencing in the States, but he’s a socialite. Loves expensive art, exclusive clubs, anything highbrow.”

“He’s got good taste. It’s dreamy here.” I’m thankful for the little spot of privacy at our corner of the bar. “What about everyone else?”

“We move around a lot because of our careers. Ezra is an Olympic swimmer.” I try my best to keep track of each sibling and their profession, wanting to memorize the little details. “You know about Frankie and Dante, but Alec ice climbs and Brooklyn figure skates.”

“That’s so cool. You must be good at a lot of sports, then! Did they ever play football with you?”

He scans my face as if he’s contemplating the information he’s handing over. I want him to continue.

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