Page 103 of The Romantic Agenda
Summer wastes no time, enveloping Joy too. “I’m so glad you came. Do you—”
“Nope, she’s sitting with me.” Fiona says, guiding Joy to the couch once Summer lets go. She picks up a blue cup that matches her hair. “So. You and my brother, huh?”
Joy almost snorts. She certainly didn’t waste any time either. “Not exactly.”
“Hmm.”
Dear god, not her too.
Fiona continues, “Calling him grumpy was genius. It got under his skin like that.” She snaps her fingers.
“He told you about that?”
“Oh, he told meeverything.” She takes a sip of her drink, onewickedly perfect eyebrow up. “We’re very close. But even if we weren’t, Summer also told me everything.”
“I see.” Joy recognizes that look. Fiona is giving her a hard time on purpose, but not because she has a kink for watching people squirm. She’s testing Joy.
“Here’s the thing about my brother: he’s dense as hell. You’re going to have to make the first move, darling.”
“ ‘Dense’ is... definitely not a word I’d use for him.”
“Give it time. Trust me. I’ve known him longer. You like him, right? If you want anything to happen with that, you’re going to have to take charge.”
Joy’s phone vibrates in her pocket. It’s a text from Fox:
Running late. I should be there soon.
Anything Fiona tells you is a lie. Don’t trust her.
She laughs, sliding her phone back into her pocket. Deciding to go with the flow, she asks Fiona, “Take charge how exactly? What do you think I should do?”
“I’msoglad you asked that. How secure are you in your femininity?”
“What?” Joy laughs around the word.
“You’re going to have to woo him, darling. I’m talking flowers, dinner, presents, the works. He’s a total homebody nerd with an incredible sweet tooth—think books, movies, and making him fancy desserts. It’s the only way to get through to that thick brain of his. Besides, he deserves it.”
“Hmm,” Joy says with a snicker. “Well, if he told you everything, then you should know about Spa Day.”
“Spa Day?” Fiona eyes her, clearly sensing a trap. “He didn’t mention anything about that.”
Joy grins. “I bet he didn’t.”
Just as Summer said, game night doesn’t involve games, even though there’s a large stack of board games in the corner. They all sit around the glass coffee table, talking and drinking. That’s it.
Malcolm sits with Summer on the floor. His arm is wrapped around her waist and she’s leaning into him, completely relaxed and happy. Joy doesn’t feel much of anything seeing them like that. She’s not numb—that absolutely has a contradictory feeling. It’s more like the absence of angst hasn’t left anything behind. It’s a blank slate waiting to be filled with whatever Joy wants it to be.
Happy, she thinks.I want to feel happy when I look at them together.
Everyone takes turns telling stories about their lives, like that game Summer taught them to play on the trip. Joy chooses to listen rather than participate, with Fiona helpfully filling in background details for context every so often. After about an hour, she asks where the bathroom is. Joy doesn’t feel entirely unwelcome but there’s an unmistakable undercurrent of anticipatory vibes floating around the room—and she’s certain it’s centered on her. It’s like they’re all waiting for something to happen, for Joy to do something specific.
Instead of heading back into the main room, Joy stops by the kitchen to get a drink. She’s mid-pour when a familiar rumble greets the room at large.
Fox doesn’t see her as he walks in and takes off his jacket, passive grumpy frown in place even as he says hello to his friends. She shrinks back against the counter, using a red cup to hide the bottom half of her face.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
Joy doesn’t want Fox to look at her like that. She doesn’t want him to look at her like he’s bored and would rather be anywhere else. It took her being clever and honest and watching him to earn his smiles. And cake—he loved her cake so much he smiled.
