The Fiction Between Us (Honeywood, #2)

by Julie Olivia

“Be there in one minute. Bringing a fire-breathing dragon with me.” Her eyes dart to me. I lift a brow with a grin. “Oh, I like you,” she says.

“Tell them something,” I suggest. “I’m not going out there!” Emily practically wails. I see the shimmer in her eyes. Good Lord, she’s going to cry. Lorelei pulls her in for a hug. Emily settles her head against her chest like we’re in the middle of a war.

“I’m joking, Queenie. Don’t worry. Just an old woman here to make your life miserable.” Quinn sucks in her cheek. “Not too miserable, I hope?” Quinn asks.

“She doesn’t like me,” Honey says. I don’t think she meant for Quinn to hear, but I still see Quinn’s fingers twitch by her side. “Maybe don’t pick fights with your leading lady?” I suggest.

“Fred, why is Honey here?” I ask. “You think I can’t answer for myself?” Honey asks. I laugh. “I don’t think you’ll tell us the truth, you chaos demon.” She sticks out her bottom lip. “Fair.”

“Do you want pancakes thrown at you again?” Honey asks. “Heck, Queenie, I might chuck a flapjack myself.”

“Okay, and who would be writing that show on such short notice?” she asks. Fred smiles. “You.”

Fred nods. “Well, you and Honey probably.” “Nope, just her actually,” Honey says.

“Horny women don’t scare me,” I say. “I bet,” Honey mumbles. “Watch it, you,” I joke.

I could also spend more time with her. Good Lord, I’m hopeless.

“You’re in?” she asks. “Why wouldn’t I be?” “Because you’re the worst. Heck, I’m the worst.”

He’d get up for water and come back, but I’d be so engrossed in my book that I wouldn’t realize he was sitting next to me, reading along, until he suddenly said, “Wait, don’t turn the page yet,” only to follow a minute later with, “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Not a chance, Barbie.”

The moment that solidified everything. From that day forward, Landon Arden wasn’t my friend anymore. And I should have never felt bad for him.

“I can fix it,” Bennett says. “I’ll go home after dinner and get some tools,” Emory says.

I find myself having the same reaction as Bennett. I uncross my arms, then cross them in irritation. After a few more uncomfortable adjustments, I finally settle on resting my elbows on the table. There. That’s perfectly natural. “Why do you look weird?” Emory mutters next to me.

“Ooh, and Landon is super tall!” Theo continues. “God, I bet he could throw you over his shoulder and …” “La-la-la!” Lorelei says, pressing her fingers into her ears.

Landon lifts his eyebrows, then says, “Actually, funnily enough, Ranger Randy and Queen Bee are going to be dating this season.” The table goes silent. My face heats more. “Wow,” Judy says, the word dragging out as she looks between us. “You and Quinn. Crazy.”

But even when we move on, Queen Bee and Ranger Randy long forgotten, I still steal glances at Landon, only to find that he’s already looking back at me.

But she wasn’t Quinn. She didn’t scowl enough, banter enough, or hate me enough. Yes, I can hear myself. Yes, I realize I might have problems.

I glance down at her waist. I imagine holding it, and it feels … forbidden. Like trying to pet a bear.

Unless … unless she is haunted by more bullying I wasn’t even aware of. Good Lord. Of course Quinn doesn’t like me. I wouldn’t like me either.

Five minutes later, Lorelei steals scissors from Orson to cut out the newspaper clipping—she’s too cute to exist—as we sit in a booth at the bar.

“Theo, how cute are they?” Lorelei asks, displaying the picture again. Theo laughs. “Wait, are you scrapbooking this?” “It’s my best friend and my brother,” she says. “Of course I am.”

“Maybe the ones where the Big Bad Wolf eats the little girl or something.” “Are you the Big Bad Wolf or the little girl?” Theo asks. “I’m the Big Bad Wolf, thank you.”

“And who are you?” Honey asks, shuffling from my arm over to Bennett’s instead. His eyes widen. I laugh. “I’m so easily replaced.” “Oh, never,” she says. “You’re my golden retriever.”

“Don’t you have any clothes that actually fit?” she asks. “Not if costuming can help it.”

“What are you doing?” she asks. “Holding your hand, like Ranger Randy would for his queen,” I say. “Gross.” “If you hate it, then I can stop,” I say with a chuckle.

Ranger Randy, however, is—kill me for saying this—a nice addition.

“Stop being so charming,” I mutter after seeing the picture from hell. “You think I’m charming?” Landon whispers back, sliding his hand along my lower back and to my waist.

It’s easy to get comfortable when I’m looking at him with a beaming smile, saying, “Oh, Ranger, you’re silly.” Those are actual words I said this morning. Gross, I know.

Women swooned. Little girls oohed and aahed. And my own heart exploded into evil little butterflies, only made worse when he glanced up from under hooded eyes with those dimples pressed into his cheeks.

“I almost thought that ‘honey’ was for me.” It sends shivers down my spine. “Don’t keep your hopes up,” I whisper back. “No one has to know you like the shorts too, Barb,” he says, the words smooth and slow in my ear.

“Down, boy,” I whisper. Landon laughs, but it’s shaky. “Hush, you,”

“I just didn’t know you had a weak spot for queens.” “Quinn …”

“Are y’all dating?” a kid asks us.

“Of course we are,” I say. “No, but”—he curls his finger, and both Landon and I bend down—“are you and Mr. Randy dating … in real life?”

“Sorry,” he whispers against my ear. “The neck thing. Gets them every time.”

Quinn: Aren’t you on a date? Me: Didn’t work out. Quinn: Poor you.

Me: Do you? Quinn: I won’t be your backup plan. Me: You could never be a backup plan.

Quinn Ophelia Sauer, you are a liar.

I wanted to see him. And now, here he is, in his white polo that stretches across his chest like some bodybuilder attending a golf tournament.

I just got here, and I’m about to call the police. Or maybe an emergency vehicle. I’ll either kill him or die from arousal. I’m not sure which.

“Come on,” he says with a laugh. “Let me try to be friends with you.” “We can’t be friends.” “Okay,” he says slowly. “Then, how about being friends with Ranger Randy?” “I think I like him less.”

“Don’t get in your head,” Honey says. Then, she pushes me forward. “Now, go be with your ranger.” “My ranger?” “Off you go.”

Because when he’s Ranger Randy, when his hand snakes over my waist and rests there, as if it’s always belonged, we feel different.

His hand lands on someone else’s behind me. “HEY.” Landon’s voice booms.

My head swims, my heart paces at double time, and a twitch in my hand longs to reach out to Landon. Because he defended me. Me.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “I said that a queen deserves respect.” He leans closer, raspy breath tickling my ear as he finishes, “And respect you will receive, Your Majesty.”

“Well, I’ve been doing it for ten years,” Quinn says. “I sure hope I look good.” Honey’s wrinkled smile widens. “A rose with thorns.”