Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)

by Sarah Adams

I can’t decide who makes me feel more upset right now. My sisters for once again telling me who I am and what I want—or me for smiling and nodding while they do. I love my sisters so much—which is why it hurts to not feel seen by them at all. I just want to be their friend and not their baby sister all the time. I want to be valued and taken seriously. But how do I do that without opening an entire can of slimy, messy worms? Or potentially hurting them when I tell them they’ve been inadvertently hurting me for years? I don’t want to seem whiny or fragile. And please explain to me why I can’t for the life of me picture myself standing next to the man they just described, but I can perfectly picture a man with a pair of mischievous blue-gray eyes, a tilted smile, and tattoos hovering over me in my bed as he kisses my mouth again and again for the rest of my life. Crap.