The Brawl (Calamity Montana, #5)

by Willa Nash

I wasn’t into guys who couldn’t take a hint. So why did the idea of telling Ronan no seem like a lot of fun?

Wouldn’t life be easier if adults could squirm and fuss? To lay our emotions bare instead of keeping them hidden inside? Maybe a good screaming tantrum would make me feel better. Or maybe what I needed was a glass of wine.

“I’m not asking anymore. If I want a date”—I swung my hand out to the food on the table— “I’ll take it from now on.”

“I’m going to kiss you again.” Tonight. Tomorrow. Like he’d kiss me any damn time he pleased. A shiver rolled down my spine. “Why did you kiss me earlier?” “Because I had to.”

It had been a shitty week without her. I hadn’t been in Calamity long, but at some point in the past month, I’d started measuring days in Larke.