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August 29 - September 7, 2021
What a charmer I am. No wonder she seems to despise me as much as I despise her.
Am I capable of feeling so deeply?
Abby plops down in my lap and gives my shoulders a little shake. “No! This isn’t what you need! You’re a commitment girl, not a casual dating person. James has commitment-phobe tattooed on his butt. I mean, his back. Don’t think about his butt!” Too late. I’m not the only one glancing across the patio at his very nicely shaped backside. “No bad boys,” Delilah adds, counting on her fingers. “No flings. No rebounds.” “No brothers,” Zoey adds. “Abby got to have a brother,” I argue. “Not one of Harpy’s brothers,” Delilah says. “What’s wrong with Harper’s brothers?” “They’re perpetual bachelors,”
And this is why they’ll have their own series. SWOOOOOONNNNNN
Rhys is like Alcatraz, a prison island of secrets, while I’m a Walmart, open in every city, all hours of the day and night for just anyone to stroll in. Not that he seems interested in walking through my automatic sliding doors. Me? I’ve run my ship aground on his island with a crowbar and a lock-picking set.
“Don’t look so worried, Killer. I told you I’d protect you.”
I have a slight permanent marker high after the first five minutes.
He gets it
Oh, how I hate him in the mornings.
“You okay?” Rhys asks quietly, his hand touching my arm. I don’t want to be comforted by this, but it’s so unexpected, I just stare at his frustratingly handsome face. “I’ll survive. You?” He blinks at me for a moment, nods, then pulls his hand away. I wish I didn’t immediately miss the warmth of his skin on mine.
I turn to look at Rhys. His dark eyes meet mine for a moment, then fall to the space between us.
I can only hear the thumping of my overeager heart, beating out Rhys’s name like a chant.
I climb into the car, holding out a plate of the pastries she was eyeing earlier. She stares like they’re poison apples, then looks suspiciously at me.
HE IS SO SWEET
“You’re blowing hot and cold, Rhys. I’m not sure whether I need a parka or a bikini for your moods.”
“The turtle scratched you.” As gently and firmly as I can, I take her wrist. Her forearm is crisscrossed with scratches and a few cuts that look deeper. Even more concerning, her arm is filthy, covered in dirt and flecks of grass. “Sam, this is bad. Why didn’t you say something?”
“Don’t forget your seatbelt,” I say. “If I didn’t know any better, I might think you cared about me, Killer.” She has no idea how much I’m starting to care, and how much it bothers me that I do.
Sam is in the section that looks like it’s for teens or tweens. Neon is the theme: bright colors, glitter, and unicorns. “Ah-ha!” Sam plucks a notebook from underneath another stack. It’s turquoise and has llamas all over it. “You were hiding, but I found you! And now you’re coming with me.” I don’t even blink that she’s talking to a notebook. While I watch, she lifts it to her nose, thumbs the pages quickly, and takes a long sniff. Her eyes close, a small smile forming on her lips. I want to know what that notebook smells like. More than that, I want to know what it would be like so close to
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I can't even begin to express how much this describes me.
Invade my space anytime, I want to say, but the words lodge in my throat the way they so often do.
“We’re sorry about Abby. She’s incorrigible, and Zoey’s putting her in time-out. Thanks for doing this, Rhys. It’s kind of you to do.”
😂😂😂
How am I supposed to resist a crush when Rhys is right THERE, all the freaking time?
“Shh. Don’t mention his name, and he doesn’t exist.” But Rhys very much does exist, and is standing outside, leaning against the SUV with his arms crossed like some kind of sexy model. I grab Taylor by the shoulders and brandish her in front of me like a shield.
“Love isn’t just grand gestures. It’s the big and the small kindnesses showing you care. And it’s obvious that you care, Rhys.”
One guy even proposed in Jacksonville. Got down on his knee with what looked like a real diamond. Even though Sam was clearly uncomfortable and not the least bit interested, jealousy tore through me like a bullet.
But I’m worried about Sam.
“We need a photo, Killer!” she calls. I groan, but my feet are already moving. Because I’m not sure I can say no to this woman. She's gone from being someone I thought I despised to someone I can’t deny.
“Such a gentleman,” she murmurs. “And yet, such a scoundrel.” “Sam,” I singsong. I’m so close to kissing her. So. Close. The single word escapes her in a sigh. “Yes.” Our lips crash together, meeting in a heated, messy, intense kiss that feels almost like a battle for control. Of course that’s how it is with Sam. We do fight so well. This is one battle we can both win. Her fingers sink into the hair at the back of my neck, and my hand tightens on her waist. We cling to each other as though trying to keep the other person from escaping. The emotions that have been building so long run over like
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I squirm, trying to roll for the edge of the bed, laughing and gasping for air. “Killer! Please!” He pauses his assault and presses a lingering kiss to my cheek. “I’m grateful, you know.” My breath is still hard to catch, but I go still at his words. “Yeah?” “Not just for this,” he says, his lips kissing a path to my ear. His mouth has the power to immobilize me, but just this once, I want him to stop kissing me so I can focus on his words. Instead, I find myself growing dizzy and breathless as his lips find the spot right in front of my ear. “You’ve shaken me, Sam.” I’ve shaken him. That’s
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I get her disappointment but likeeeeee THAT SPEAKS VOLUMES
“Killer,” I say in a warning tone. “Sam.” He kisses me once more, long and slow, his lips doing a very fine job of backing up the words he just said. When he pulls away, I’m a little bit breathless and a lot reassured.
He smiles ruefully, and I wish I could soothe his heart as easily as I can run my hands through his hair.
See? Sam totally deserves a guy who can say I love you and not start second-guessing less than a week later. “You know, I’m scared too,” she says softly. My head rears back a little in shock. “You?” She smiles sweetly up at me, making my heart lurch drunkenly in my chest. “Is that so surprising?” “You seem so confident. So happy.” Sam’s hands slide up my chest to my shoulders, curving around my neck. Her touch is the perfect antidote to the poison of my doubts. “I’m an optimist,” she says. “I can’t help but search for the best outcome and believe—or hope—that’s what will be. That doesn’t mean
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When Rhys’s rough palms cup my cheeks, I shudder. “I will always find you beautiful. Your mind, your body, and your heart.” He drops one hand and traces a heart just above the top of my dress. “Rhys,” I say, my voice breathy like I’ve been doing aerobics and not simply listening to this man pour out his feelings. “It sounds almost like you’re making vows.” “I am,” he says.
Even in her current state of agitation, she looks gorgeous, her newly dyed pink and blonde hair cascading in loose waves down the mostly open back of her halter-style dress. The top of the bodice starts as pure white, transitioning to a pale blush just below the waist and then a gorgeous bright pink by the end of the long train. “You don’t want to ruin the surprise for Zane,” I tell her. “He’s going to take one look at you and totally lose it.”
I’M SO GLAD SHE WENT BACK TO PINKKKK
“Let’s get you to bed,” Rhys says, sweeping me up in his arms. I love when he does this. It makes me feel tiny, something I’ve never felt. Not that I have Amazonian height like Zoey, but I’m not a pocket person like Abby or petite like Delilah. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt cherished the way I do when Rhys holds me like this.
“It is not sweet,” I seethe, feeling the anger bubble up, and the words. So many words I shouldn’t say but can’t hold back any longer. “We’re supposed to make decisions together. That’s what you do in a relationship.” “Sweetie, it’s not like he lied to you, or kept a big secret. He did something kind. For you.” “No! It’s just like Quillyn and Selah. He tried to sacrifice himself for her, and it blew up in his face. He and I talked about it.” My friends’ faces are blank. Of course they have no idea what I’m talking about. I sound like I’ve lost it. Maybe I have.
“WHERE IS HE?!” I recognize the voice immediately, though I’ve never heard this level of anger or volume from Sam before. “Killer? KILLER!” Before I can move, Sam bolts through the arched doorway, quickly scanning the room before her eyes land on me. I’m frozen in place, thrilled to see Sam but also shocked that she’s here, guilty that I left, and hopeful that her presence means I haven’t screwed up too badly. Her wild gaze softens, and she runs to me. I’m barely prepared to catch her, but I manage, knocking over a stool in the process. “I made you a promise, Killer. I made vows too.” “I’m so
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Rhys told me his mother was a famous actress, but hadn’t mentioned it was you. I think he wanted to make sure I was in it for him, not for the fame. And I am. I’m here for him.”
“Sam and I were married this week. A small ceremony—” Sam snorts. ”A very small ceremony in Las Vegas.” “Though they’re planning a bigger celebration for friends and family soon, right?” This comes from Zoey, who wears a don’t mess with me expression even as she tries to avoid looking anywhere near Rex.
Zoey is me.
