The Off Limits Rule (It Happened in Nashville 1)

“Yes, of course I did. And he was so adorable and sweet and laid his head in my lap and slept the entire night snuggling my thighs like they were his favorite stuffed animal from childhood.”

“And then?”

“And then nothing.” My eyes catch on the droopy, wilted bouquet of flowers on my station that I refuse to throw away despite the mold now creeping up the stems, and I correct myself. “Well, not nothing. The next morning, we had a stilted goodbye where he almost seemed to regret the night, so I hightailed it out of there, ready to write him off forever, until this gorgeous—well, it was gorgeous—bouquet showed up here at work with a thank-you card for taking care of him. The card also mentioned that he’d be happy to return the favor next time I’m feeling bad.”

“When was all of this?” asks Sasha. I think she’s about to pull out a notepad and pen. Before the night is up, there will be pictures and maps and red strands of twine connecting clues all across the salon walls.

I sigh and wince a little. “Almost two weeks ago. That’s bad, right? That means he’s not interested?”

Carrie pipes up. “Not necessarily. You said he’s your brother’s best friend?”

“Yeah.”

Both women look at each other and give one affirming nod before saying in perfect harmony, “Bro code.”

“Bro code?”

“Yes, grandma. Even I know what they’re talking about.” Jessie wants to act like she’s not into this gossip, but she’s just as invested as I am. One minute ago, we thought these girls were ridiculous and an insult to women everywhere, and now we are sitting at their feet, begging to be inducted into their super-special club. “Part of the bro code is not dating a friend’s sister, and I’m pretty sure if she’s a baby sister, it’s doubly enforced.”

My shoulders sag because, somehow, I know they are right. Drew even told me to stay away from Cooper. Did he tell Cooper the same thing? That makes me feel both thankful that I’m so loved, and like I want to dismember my brother for thinking he has any sort of say over my life.

“How do I know for sure?”

“You text him.”

“And ask him?”

“No. That will make you look desperate, especially if that’s not the real reason he’s ghosting you.” I take back everything I ever said about this woman. She’s brilliant. Scholarly. Should be teaching a course at a university, because what she’s explaining right now is a way-better life skill than algebra. “Instead, text him first—something flirty but innocuous.”

Now I’m the one who needs a notepad. SOMEONE GET ME A NOTEPAD! “Okay, flirty and innocuous. Got it.” I don’t got it—and Sasha suspects as much.

“Just say Hi with a little smiley face.”

“That’s it?” I ask with wide, frantic eyes. My chest is constricting. My breath is too short. How do I know if I’m having a heart attack?

Carrie laughs and takes over. “Yes. That’s it. And then if he responds, go from there. Keep the conversation short and minimal. Don’t give away too much that you’re interested in him. And whatever you do, do not respond right away. Oh, also, it’s best to ghost him after four texts, especially if he asks what you’re up to so you can leave him wanting more. Don’t respond for two days.”

“Two?!”

“Two. Don’t mess it up,” Sasha warns, turning back to sit properly in her seat.

Thirty minutes after we close the door behind my new BFFs, Sasha and Carrie, I stare down at my phone and type out exactly what I was instructed to send.

Jessie hovers over my shoulder, breathing on my neck and making me even more nervous. But there’s no going back. I’ve decided in my head that Cooper is worth it. Plus, I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of him several times. Really, I’ve got nothing to lose.

Lucy: Hi :)

“Oh gosh, I did it!” I say, dropping my phone onto the counter like it suddenly morphed into molten lava.

“Yep. Now we wait.” Jessie puts her hands on her lower back to ease the ache. It’s hard enough being a hairdresser when you’re not pregnant, but with the added weight in the front, it’s total death to your back. Even so, I know Jessie is touchy about this subject, and she would rip my head off if I asked if she’s feeling okay because, for some reason, she doesn’t like to show any signs of weakness.

I swallow down the lump of regret in my throat as I stare at my phone again. What if he doesn’t respond? “I guess we don’t have to hover over my phone like the Grim Reaper until he responds. I’m going to go sweep up.”

I get two steps away and then hear it ping. I race back and snatch it from the counter before Jessie gets the chance.

Cooper: Hi back :)

“UGHHHH. Hi back?! Sasha didn’t prepare me for that reply!” Of course he would respond like that—with way more game than anyone should ever have. Why didn’t I get Sasha’s number?!