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I have Liam's driver drop me off at Jitters instead of my house after the party.

I need to fix this weirdness lingering between Elodie and me, and I also really need my best friend right now.

It's a little after eleven by the time I get there. The coffee shop is closed, but I'm not at all surprised to see Elodie standing behind the counter, still hard at work. She's as dedicated to achieving her goals as I am. It's one of the many reasons we're friends.

What I am surprised by is the fact that she's holding a blowtorch and not the tiny, fits-in-one-hand blowtorches I've seen on the Food Network. This thing's got a canister at least a foot long on it. Either she's attempting some crazy new drink, or she's decided to burn the place to the ground.

I tap my knuckles against the glass where a sign hangs reading, Sorry we're closed. Bean back tomorrow morning.

Elodie's head snaps up. She doesn't smile when she sees me, but she does walk over to the door and undoes the deadbolts with a series of clicks.

"You look very Hollywood," she says as she takes in my dress and updo.

"Right." I glance down, running a hand over my silky skirt. "But you know what would've been awesome is if my best friend had been the one to help me get ready instead of some stylist. Who, I might add, was a lot less competent than you with a curling wand."

"Yeah, well." Elodie shrugs. "I definitely would've pulled out a couple more curls from your braid."

"See! Els, I'm a disaster without you."

"I mean, I wouldn't go straight to disaster." A small, almost smile tugs at her lips. "You do look kind of amazing."

"Thank you." I fidget with the handles of my gift bag. "Elodie, I'm so sorry. I've been a terrible friend lately. I got so caught up in this job and now Liam. And I know those aren't good excuses, but I've never liked a guy like this before, and I just...I'm sorry."

Elodie's eyes soften ever so slightly. "You really like him, don't you?"

"I really do." Just thinking about Liam has a goofy smile stretching across my lips.

"Well, then, I think I'm going to have to forgive you because I've got to hear all about the boy who's making you smile like that."

"Yeah?" I ask, grinning hopefully at her.

"I guess." She huffs out a sigh through her nose. "I mean, I owe you an apology too. I should've been there for you tonight, but I was too busy acting like an ice queen. I was just feeling left out of your new celebrity lifestyle."

"I do not have a celebrity lifestyle."

Elodie hoists an eyebrow, looking pointedly down at the gown I'm wearing.

"Okay, maybe a little bit."

Elodie toys with the string of her apron. "It was just obvious that Liam was totally into you, and I thought it would so cool if we were both dating celebrities. But then Wesley made it clear he wasn't really interested, and I guess I got kind of jealous."

"Oh, Els. Wes is an idiot."

"Oh, he is for sure an idiot." Elodie's eyes are shiny as she looks down at the recently swept floor.

"I'm so sorry if I made you feel left out. That's the last thing I ever wanted to do."

"I just don't want us to be those people who say they're going to be best friends forever and then drift apart after high school. I thought you were going to get all swept away by Liam and leave me behind."

"Never." I grab her hand. "Elodie, are you kidding me? I love us too freaking much to let that happen."

A slow smile spreads across her face. "Hug it out?"

I wrap her in a tight hug, careful not to smack her with my gift bag.

"Now come tell me all about this glam party of yours, and I'll let you sample my latest creation." Elodie walks around the bar, and I plop down on my usual stool.

"Deal," I say. "You've also got to help me plan how we're going to use all the gift cards I got in this bag." I hoist it up on the counter next to me.

"Here for it," Elodie says, but her tone is distracted as she examines the blowtorch. She picks it up and starts fiddling with the levers.

"Why do you have a blowtorch?" I glance over my shoulder to make sure Charlie isn't within earshot. He might be patient with her experiments, but even his patience has limits.

"This is my new latte flambé." Elodie takes out a flask and pours a splash of something that smells suspiciously like rum into the coffee sitting on the bar.

"And since when do you carry a flask?" I whisper-hiss.

Elodie rolls her eyes like I'm being melodramatic. "It's Charlie's. I'm borrowing it for a second." She aims the torch at the cup. Her fingers slip on one of the knobs, and she nearly drops the canister. She catches it just as fire shoots out the end of the nozzle, missing the cup by several inches and scorching the surface of the steel countertop.

"Bah!" I jump back away from the counter, suddenly wondering whether or not tulle is flammable.

Elodie seems unfazed about almost turning Jitters into a pile of ash. "Whoops." She peers at the spot she just lit up on the bar. "Do you think that's going to leave a mark?"

"I don't know, Els! I don't think this one's a good idea."

She waves off my concern. "Calm down. Everyone loves food that's on fire. This is going to be a hit. And I guarantee you no one else will be doing it."

"Yeah, for reasons."

"No one else will be doing what exactly?" asks Charlie, walking down the stairs that lead to his apartment above the coffee shop. His arms are folded across his chest, and his neat mustache is pulled down in a frown.

Elodie must not have heard him coming, because she jumps. Unfortunately, she's still grasping the lever on the blowtorch, and it hurls a burst of flame right at me.

I scream and dive below the bar, patting my hair to make sure it isn't going up in a blaze of hairspray fumes.

"Sorry!" Elodie yelps.

"Hand over the blowtorch," Charlie demands.

"But—" Elodie says.

"No buts. Give it here."

I tentatively poke my head over the edge of the counter.

Elodie juts out her bottom lip.

"Listen, I put up with you turning my coffee shop into your own personal laboratory. I didn't say anything about the nitrous oxide. I even kept my cool when you forced that customer to try your 'savory espresso.'"

I wince, remembering that one. It had puréed tomato and goat cheese in it. I shudder just thinking about it.

"But," Charlie continues, grabbing the blowtorch out of her hands, "no fire."

"What if—" she starts.

"No. No fire." With that, he strides back up the stairs, taking the blowtorch with him.

"Jeez. Who took the caffeine outta his beans?" Elodie mutters.

I snort. "You're out of control. You know that, right?"

"I'm pretty sure you mean brilliant," Elodie says, still looking put-out over having her blowtorch taken away.

My phone dings and I grab it from inside my swag bag where I shoved it earlier. My heart forgets how to beat for a good five seconds when I see the text from Liam.

Liam: I can't stop thinking about you. Thank you for the perfect night.

"It's him, isn't it?" Elodie Usain-Bolt-style runs around the bar, hopping up on the stool next to me and leaning over my shoulder. "What did he say?"

I show her the message and can't help squealing the tiniest bit as I reread it.

"Write him back," she bosses.

"I am. Now stop. You're making me nervous." I lean away from her, and she makes an irritated noise in the back of her throat.

Me: YOU were perfect.

Elodie hops her butt up on the counter, so she can read my text. "OMG. You totally love him."

"I don't love him," I say, but I can feel my cheeks flaming.

"Oh, yeah." She snorts. "That was convincing."

My phone dings again, and Elodie practically tackles me to the ground, trying to read it.

Liam: When can I see you again?

Me: When do you want to see me again, Superstar?

Liam: Right this second.

Liam: But since I'm getting on an airplane, how about day after tomorrow? I'll cook you dinner.

"Oooh, cook you dinner? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Elodie teases, and I shove her.

Me: Sounds perfect.

Liam: YOU are perfect.

"Holy shit." Elodie jumps off the counter. "I just realized. This is some major league flirting. You kissed him for real, didn't you?"

"I was going to tell you—" I start, but Elodie shrieks so loudly I'm surprised Charlie doesn't come running back down here to see who's murdering her.

She drags a stool over, so she's sitting directly in front of me. "Tell me everything!"