Falling for Your Best Friend's Twin (Love Clichés, #1)

by Emma St. Clair

She even has on pantyhose, which I personally think is a crime in Texas.

I don’t know why Mom’s on my mind so much today. Loss is like that though. Even all these years later, sometimes the pain of it is like a sudden slap in the face.

The difference is that I don’t want the makeover. I tried being someone else, letting other people tell me how I should look. That one time was enough to prove that changing for someone else is never the right move. I’m me.

Call me picky, but dogs in purses is a deal-breaker.

I’m not sure I really trust him.

“Not a morning person?” he says. “If by that you mean that I am not a person in the morning, then yes. At least not until I have coffee.”

“If bacon is weird, I don’t want to be normal.”

But when Abby lets me grab her hand under the table a few minutes later, I could care less. What VCs? What bug? What app? All that matters is the woman beside me, whose hand I won’t let out of my grip.

It’s like that unlocked the door to my insecurities and let them all out to play. I haven’t let them rule me in so long that I almost forgot what it’s like and how powerful they can be.

Dream bigger is what Mom used to say to us, her encouragement, her catch phrase. It was sort of her guide for life. When we’d talk about what we wanted to be when we grew up, or what we were looking forward to about summer. After celebrating any of our successes, she would always hug us and tell us that we did a great job, and now it was time to dream bigger.

“When it hurts, but you want to fight through it anyway. That’s how you know it’s love. When you want to fight.”