Page 297 of The Long Way Home

“Are you being pedantic about what I wear tonight because you’re nervous and you don’t know what’s happening with you and BJ so you just want to control something?” my annoying sister asks.

“No.” I give her a look. “I’m being pedantic about what you wear because I’m the style editor of one of the biggest magazines in the country and you’re out here trying to dress like a fucking farm hand.”

Bridget gives me a look.

“Besides—” I look between them. “We don’t know that something’s going to happen tonight anyway. It could just be a normal night.”

“He kissed you,” Bridget tells me as though that moment hasn’t been on active replay in my mind ever since.

It was the perfect kiss.

There’s nothing I love more in this world than his mouth up against mine, except maybe his body.

I shrug nervously. “He hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“Have you spoken to him?” Taura asks.

“No.”

“Not even to tell him you ended it with Jules?”

“Oh, ‘Jules’ now, is it?” I roll my eyes at her. “Going to start having Wednesday lunches with him too?”

“No,” she mimics me in an annoying voice and gives me a dumb smile. (But says under her breath, “…Thursdays.” I look over at her and I can’t tell whether she’s joking.)

“Something’s going to happen,” Taura tells me, giving me an encouraging smile in the mirror as she looks at the dress she’s wearing. Ruched floral-print crepe mini dress by Magda Butrym.

“Are you saying that because one of the boys has told you something’s going to happen or are you just being a good-vibes girl?” Bridget clarifies.

“The second one.”

“Fuck.” I groan under my breath.

“What’s happening with Jordan?” Bridget asks.

I shrug.

“Is she coming tonight?”

I shrug again.

Tausie purses her mouth which usually means she knows something she isn’t saying, which isn’t a quality I love in her but she’s good at not telling other people’s secrets, which I suppose is theoretically admirable but is also literally annoying, so…

“Come on trainwreck.” Bridget pulls me towards the door. “Let’s go.”

When we arrive at Annabel’s, all the boys (and no Jordan) are sitting at the table.

I think it’s supposed to be subtle but I see Jonah elbow BJ when I walk in and his jaw goes a little bit slack which is, as always, my hope and intent.

His head tilts a little and he stands, walking around the table to me.

He looks a bit shy and I wonder whether he’s going to kiss me — if this is our big moment — in Annabel’s in Mayfair in front of all our best friends and half of the London social set, if this is how we’ll announce to the world that everything is as it should be and we are a we again — but then he just wraps his arms around me. He pulls me into his chest, gives me one of those cuddles of his that I love, that used to be my bread and butter. I take what I can get, breath him in all familiar, press myself tightly against him, make that silk Hawaiian shirt with lion mix print he’s wearing from Dolce & Gabbana smell like me, and pull back a little, looking up at him.

“Hey.” His mouth twitches, his arms still around my waist.

“Hi.” I bat my eyes at him, my arms still around his neck.

He looks past me and his face lights up.