Page 114 of Play the Part

Changing the subject, I look over to Jamie and quirk a smile. “Can you believe you’re gettingmarriedin three months? God, time really does fly as we get older.”

“I know, right?” she says breezily. “I swear the engagement party was, like, yesterday.”

Hearing her mention her engagement party, I wince and shoot my best friend a guilty look.

She immediately turns suspicious, eyeing me with narrowed blue eyes.

“What did you do?”

I snort out a laugh. “Okay, wow, why do you immediately think I did something bad?”

She presses her lips together, clearly unimpressed.

“Because I’ve known you our whole twenties,” she answers matter-of-factly. “You’re allergic to impulse control.”

I laugh, then sigh far too dramatically, moving my hair from one shoulder to the other. “God, you really do hate me.”

Jamie smirks at my dig, her gaze shining with love and years of friendship.

“Go on,” she presses, “Spill.”

“So, uh …” I chew on my inner cheek, toying with my wine stem, acting deliberately shifty. “I never told you that the first time I hooked up with Huxley was actually at your engagement party.”

I brace myself, eyeing Jamie from the corner of my eye. Her mouth falls open, shock written clearly across her face. “Connie!”

I flash her a guilty smile, then hold up my hand. “Look,please spare me the sermon,” I whine. “I’ve already heard it all from Sophia.”

“Sophiaknew about it before me?!”

Oops.

I’ve known Jamie for long enough that I can tell she isn’t madper se,but I still feel guilty that I’ve kept that one secret for so long.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really am,” I say with an apologetic pout. “It’s just that Sophia had already guessed that something was going on between us, and I really needed advice from someone who knew Huxley personally, you know?”

She eyes me some more.

“I guess I can find it in my heart to forgive you,” she finally says, reaching for her wine glass. “While we’re here — any more secrets I should know about?”

I didn’t plan to tell Jamie about the fight, but it comes out all in one go anyway.

“Huxley headbutted Oliver in the face today.”

Her expression starts with shock and ends with concern. I can read exactly what’s happening behind her worried gaze. I don’t let her speak before pleading my case.

“Please, promise me you won’t tell Ozzy. He’ll just worry for nothing, I swear Huxley won’t get in trouble. I handled it, Iswear.”

I fill Jamie in with the last of my Oliver drama, and while I speak, she cycles through all the expected emotions: Shock. Concern. Disgust. Anger. Outrage.

“Thatdick,” she spits when I finally finish my story, her body leaned into the bar toward me.

“To put it nicely,” I reply with a snark.

Sitting up straight, she rolls her eyes. “Well, I can’t blame Huxley for what he did then.”

I lift an amused brow and take a sip of wine.

“Told you.” I flag down the bartender and signal for anotherround. “Anyway, how’s your online shop? Sold any paintings recently?”

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