Page 60 of Strelitzias in Spring

I clench my jaw, leaning back against the wall. “No. I’m trying to be the good guy here.”

“Jack is a good guy, maybe not reading the room well, but he’s a nice person overall. But I can tell you’re not letting this go, and I have no romantic interest in Jack, so fine, I’ll bite.”

She leaves, walking straight to Jack and leaning over until she’s whispering in his ear. I almost feel bad for the guy as she breaks the news that her friends are here; his face falls, and he looks dejected. I shouldn’t feel happiness at his disappointment, but I do.

I’ll analyze that later. For now, I smile as Serena grabs her shit and walks toward Celeste and Ava.

26

Serena

When Wolf said that CeCe and Ava were in the bar, donning wig disguises, I almost didn’t believe him. I absolutely should have seen them, right? Wrong. And when Wolf said that they looked like cabaret dancers, he wasn’t entirely off the mark.

“Of all the weird things you two have done, this may take the top spot,” I comment wryly as I approach their booth. Glancing back, I check to make sure Jack has followed and isn’t still upset. When I told him that my friends were here and that I wanted to join them, he looked crestfallen, and I felt guilty about delivering the change in plans. However, I wasn’t lying when I told Wolf that I had zero romantic interest in Jack, especially after spending one-on-one time with him.

He didn’t necessarily do anything wrong—besides trying to kiss me in the middle of a crowded bar—but despite the flutters I felt when I first met him, there’s nothing romantic between us. He’s kind, smart, charming, and attractive, but my stomach doesn’t erupt in butterflies. At least, not in the way that it does for someone else also hovering behind me.

Celeste and Ava have the decency to look embarrassed, while Dante looks like he’s holding back laughter, and Greyson is staring at Ava with unconcealed desire. Lincoln looks like he’d rather be anywhere other than here, and I can’t say I blame him. It’s lucky for all of us that Ava isn’t sitting next to her boyfriend because I have a feeling he would be doing very illicit things in the middle of the bar if she was physically within reach.

“Coming here was a joint decision, but Ava ordered the wigs.”

“We were trying to be subtle,” Ava offers with a grimace.

“Aves.” My eyes widen, and a laugh breaks free. “You’re wearing a purple wig in a dive bar. I’m not sure how I didn’t see you before, but there is no missing you now.” I shake my head, enjoying the embarrassed looks on my friends’ faces. “Anyway, this is Jack. Jack, this is Celeste, her boyfriend Dante, Ava, and her boyfriend Greyson, their roommate, Lincoln, and then you met Wolf, Celeste’s cousin.” Wolf grunts, clearly not pleased at his designation.

Jack clears his throat and lifts a hand, waving at the small group. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

“Sorry for crashing your date,” Celeste offers, smiling slightly as his cheeks redden. “We needed to make sure that you weren’t going to kill her and stuff her body into your trunk before disposing the body in the Navesink.”

“Red, why does it always go back to murder? I swear to God, we’re detoxing you from the true crime podcasts and documentaries.”

“You can pry the remote out of my cold, dead hands. Is there room over there for me and Ava? We’ll let Serena and Jack sit over here, and Wolf, you can pull a chair up at the head. Or go back to the bar.”

I don’t have to look at Wolf’s face to know that he’s scowling at CeCe’s dismissal of him. With surprising speed, Ava and Celeste play musical chairs and shift the seating arrangements. Greyson’s body is angled in the corner, allowing Ava to sit between his legs; he looks the most relaxed I’ve seen him look in the last ten minutes. Celeste is seated in the middle of the bench, next to Lincoln and plastered to Dante’s side; they look cozy, if not squished.

Thankful that I don’t need to press my body against Jack’s in an overcrowded booth, I slide inside and watch Wolf as he grabs a chair from a nearby table and places it at the head.

“So, how did you two meet?” Dante asks, grabbing his beer to take a long sip.

“I walked into Jack at a mixer. He lives with Meg’s boyfriend.”

“Walked into me? Ser, I’m pretty sure we collided. You got some pretty nasty cuts from that and broke your phone, if I remember correctly.” I watch, horrified and slightly turned on by how rigid Wolf’s posture becomes at the reminder of his rescue mission.

“That was you?”

“Uh, well. I—”

“Not entirely,” I cut in. “Jack tried to stop Dylan, who was the real asshole of the night. Jack and I walking into each other was just an accident.”

“A happy one?” Jack asks, looking directly at me.

“You were bruised and bloody. That’s not a happy accident, and Dylan is a fucking asshole.”

I cut my eyes to Wolf and let out a sigh. Before I can respond, CeCe beats me to it. “God, Wolf. You sound like Jack intentionally hurt Rena; I can’t disagree with you on Dylan, though. But dial down the big brother act.” My cheeks flame at the thought of Wolf harboring any sort of brotherly or familial feelings toward me. Wolf grunts, probably thinking the same thoughts as me.

I should be focused on Jack right now, but all I can see from my peripheral is Wolf, his jaw tense and his arms crossed. My stomach riots as memories of our time together at my apartment play in my mind, like one of those picture glasses at an old school county fair, where you click on the lever, and images swirl around you, capturing your attention and stealing your breath.

I can confirm that the very last thing I feel for him is sisterly affection.

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