Page 26 of Love Me Like It's Real
Elsa had accused Arya of stealing it. Arya had accused Elsa and I had to remind them both that there was no stealing between sisters, which I’m not entirely sure is a great lesson to teach them considering their teen years are ahead of them and there’s most definitely going to be some stealing, but I’ll deal with that another day. Pick your battles and all that jazz.
“It’s Fashion Pup, Fashion Nelly’s pet dog,” Elsa says and pulls the doll up from the floor and out of Arya’s hands to show Hayworth.
I wince, waiting for Arya to whine, but she just smiles at the handsome stranger and nods along to her sister’s story.
“Oh, I see. So they’re both fashion icons and they need to stick together?” he says when Elsa is done.
“Yes. The TikTokers will drag them through the dirt if they’re seen apart.”
I stare at my daughter and blink.
One of these days I’ll understand how she knows so many words she shouldn’t but I doubt today is that day.
“Oh, of course. TikTokers are vicious.” Hayworth chuckles.
“They so are,” Arya adds but I doubtsheknows what she’s talking about. Or I hope she doesn’t.
“So what’s Fashion Nelly’s and Fashion Pup’s agenda for the day? Press tour? Catwalk?”
“Kitties!” Arya exclaims.
Elsa rolls her eyes. “Cat-walk, Arya! Not kitties. Different things,” she says.
“Oh.”
“Anyway, Hayworth, can I ask you something?” Elsa says.
“Anything,” he replies and crouches to the floor so he’s at eye-level with both of them.
“You said you are handsome, right?”
I frown.
What is going on?
“Well, you said it. I just agreed,” he answers and pokes her nose.
I have to admit to myself. He might be a walking disaster of an adult male but he seems pretty good with kids—a major plus.
Why do I care?
I shake my head and focus on the conversation.
“Well then, would you also agree our Poppy is handsome too?” Elsa says and I choke on nothing.
“Elsa!” I yelp but have to cough again, trying to clear my throat.
“What? That’s not a rude question. Is it?” Both her and Arya turn to Hayworth and wait with bated breath.
“No. Not rude at all.”
“But inappropriate,” I croak but as soon as his intense gaze turns to me I bury my face in Arya’s bag, which smells a lot like bologna and despair.
“So? Do you agree?”
I take deep breaths but the more I do, the more asphyxiating it gets in the bag so I pull it away and stare at him.
He grins and his eyes go dark and sinful, causing another bout of coughing.
