“Red,” I whisper-shout. Her head flips in my direction, her eyes twinkling. Because, if nothing else, Willa Grant is a shit disturber, waltzing into my life and complicating it without even trying. Looking all pleased with herself over it. With a wink over her shoulder, she shoots off, running from me. And something primal in me roars to life. I chase her.
oh to be a city girl playing hide and seek tag with a man 13 years older than me in a hay field
