“Okay. I’m here. Ears wide open.”
Amanda smiled a full-blown smile, and a tiny dimple popped in her cheek. Wren felt like she’d discovered that dimple. Like she was on a treasure hunt, and that dimple was the prize at the end.
“Wren, I’m bisexual.”
“Samesies. Wow.”
A giggle fit overtook Amanda, and Wren watched in absolute delight as Amanda lost it.
“How did that feel?” Wren asked once Amanda had caught her breath.
“Amazing.”
“Good. You deserve amazing. Youareamazing.” Wren gave her hand a squeeze and sat up. She felt breathless herself. “I’m going to shower off this chlorine. Be thinking about your next resolution.”
Wren started to get off the bed. Amanda had an adrenaline-rush glow on her face, and she was so pretty. And Wren was so happy for her. And so proud of her. And kind of ridiculously smitten.
Oh. No.
Wren leaned in and kissed Amanda’s cheek. Which was a totally normal thing to do.It was.She kissed her friends on the cheek all the time. Hell, she kissed some of her friends on the lips. It wasn’t weird, and it did not give her flutters or tingly fingertips. Not at all.
Chapter Three
Amanda felt high as she settled into a seat at the bar. She’d only been high once in her life, and she’d liked it, so she’d been very diligent about staying away from that feeling permanently. Lying in bed with Wren, sharing not-quite secrets, holding her hand, and getting a kiss on the cheek—it was like being high without the paranoia.
Nothing they had done was wrong. She knew it wasn’t inherently romantic either. Just two friends being friends. But it had felt so good in all the ways Amanda wanted romance to feel good.
The bartender coughed, and Amanda snapped back to the present. They had gotten to the bar before William and Benji to “pregame,” a concept Amanda had never participated in. Then Wren had forgotten her ID, so she’d had to run back to their cottage to get it.
“Decide what you want yet?” the bartender asked. “Need any help?”
Amanda was usually a vodka soda girl, but she was on vacation. She wanted to try something new.
“Which of these New Year’s Eve cocktails would you recommend?” Amanda pointed at the menu.
A man who was sitting a few seats down said, “Her drink is on me.”
Amanda frowned. “No, thank you. I can get my own.” Though she was tempted to buy from the tippy-top shelf and leave him with the bill.
“It depends,” the bartender said, ignoring the man. “Do you want something weird or classy?” She gave Amanda a cheeky smile, and Amanda did a double take. She was an attractive Black woman with a tattoo snaking up the side of her neck and mischievousness in her eyes.
“Weird.”
“Sweet. I’d recommend the Melon Ball Drop Martini, then. It’s neon green and has—”
“Neon sounds great. Thank you.” She handed over her credit card so it was very evident she was paying for her own Melon Ball.
The guy scooted onto the barstool closest to Amanda. She glanced around for Wren or even Benji and William.
“I’m Hayden Worth.” He said his name like she should recognize it. She had a lot of experience with people who thought their name carried special weight. That was how her grandfather said his name, how her father said his, so, to be honest, she wasn’t impressed.
“Hi.” She rotated in her seat, checking the entrance of the bar again. Still no Wren.
“I own the biggest party entertainment company in the Midwest—Worth Entertainment Group.”
And she did not care. “Okay.”
“We partner with Father Time Farm and Resort to throw the New Year’s Eve party here. It’s the event of the year. Let me buy you a drink, and I’ll tell you about it. The tickets are hard to come by, but I have an in.” He said this with a wink. She hated winkers.