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The Finn Factor
  • Текст добавлен: 9 октября 2016, 16:32

Текст книги "The Finn Factor"


Автор книги: Rachel Bailey



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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 15 страниц)



Chapter Two

Scarlett

Over the years, people had often questioned how I could be best friends with a guy. They’d quote lines from When Harry Met Sally about men and women not being able to just be friends, or quietly ask if our friendship had “benefits.” They didn’t understand the bond Finn and I had. It worked for us.

But this? This could take our bond and muddle it up into knots, like a cat playing with a ball of yarn. Or my current thought processes after the mojitos…

“I don’t know, Finn,” I said, chewing on a fingernail. “It’s very sweet of you to offer, but don’t you think it has the potential to get…messy?”

“Scarlett, if we were going to fall in love with each other, it would have happened already. We’ve been friends for four years, and we live in the same house. I’ve seen you when you had a cold, and you’ve threatened me with a bottle opener when you had PMS. I think we’ve passed the point of no return.”

True. But it still felt like we were about to cross a line. “What if we ruined what we have now? I don’t want to lose you, Finn. Or your icemaker.”

He chuckled. “It won’t come to that. We’re only talking about a few kisses strictly for educational purposes. Not sleeping together.”

At the words sleeping together, my body started to go into meltdown. Which is what you get when you have a long dry spell, combined with mojitos and a sex discussion with a guy. Even Finn.

Stick with the facts.

I drew in a deep breath and sat straighter in the sofa. “If we did this—and I’m still only saying if—how would we go about it? And when? Now?”

His eyes widened. “Ah, no.” He shifted in his seat. “I think we should be sober.”

Sober. Right. Probably a good idea, especially considering my body meltdown at the mere mention of sleeping together. I’d need to be in control of all my fuckulties. Hang on. No. Faculties. I’d need to be in control of all my faculties. Focused. So, yeppers, sober would be better.

Taking a deep breath, I smiled as if this was no big deal. “Tomorrow morning?”

He rubbed a finger across his forehead. “I have to be at school early tomorrow. How’s tomorrow night?”

“Sure.” My stomach fluttered. Was that nerves or excitement? Or maybe the mojitos making a comeback? I headed for the bathroom, just to be safe.

Finn

When I pulled my car into the garage the next night, I sat for a few minutes, hands still gripping the wheel, every muscle in my body tense. On alert. Red alert. Or perhaps that should be Scarlett alert.

Life was never boring with Scarlett, but this might be one crazy scheme too far.

I’d first met her on a night much like this one, after driving into this very garage. I’d arrived home from a night out with friends and found my then roommate standing over a crying blonde, his hand raised as if to hit her. Going from zero to ballistic in less than a second, I’d thrown him into a wall. Then out the door. For the rest of the night, I’d sat with the frightened girl, trying to make her feel safe again.

Thank God I hadn’t arrived two minutes later. I had two younger sisters that I’d had custody of for five years, since our parents died. Billie was Scarlett’s age, and at university in Melbourne now, and Amelia was at boarding school. Much as it broke my heart to even think it, if something like that had happened to either of my sisters, I’d hope someone would have stayed with them.

Scarlett and I had formed a bond that night, and I guess I’d pretty much seen myself as her protector ever since, then eventually, her best friend.

Did protectors offer their best friends kissing lessons? I groaned and thunked my head down onto my hands on the wheel. Unlikely.

Maybe she’d changed her mind. In fact, I thought, looking up, would she even remember the deal at all? She’d had a few mojitos before we’d thought up the plan, and afterward we’d had another one each while watching a movie. She hadn’t even made it to her bed in the end—she’d slept on the sofa. I’d thrown a blanket over her and left her there.

With my shoulders suddenly lighter, I climbed out of the car. Chances were she’d forgotten she was going to ask that actor to kiss her, and my stupid suggestion that I give her lessons, and we could move on, never mentioning it again. I barely resisted crossing my fingers.

“Hey Finn,” she said as I walked through the kitchen door and dumped my satchel of books on the dining table. She wore her favorite green apron with white polka dots, and lime green glasses, and I could smell spaghetti bubbling away. It could be just any other night, and if the stars aligned, it would be.

“Hey,” I said, trying to get a read on her. On whether she remembered. “How was your day?”

“Great.” She turned to me with a slotted spoon in her hand. “I was thinking that if we’re going to do this, we should do it properly. I ducked into the shops on the way home and bought some supplies.”

My stomach dipped. So, she hadn’t forgotten. And then I registered her words. “What sort of supplies would we need?”

“Breath mints.” She held up a packet. “And a new lip gloss. I want to replicate a date kiss as closely as I can. I got apple-berry. I hope that’s okay with you?”

“Apple-berry,” I repeated faintly. The air in the kitchen suddenly felt warmer as I imagined tasting whatever would be on her lips. Scarlett had great lips. Full and lush. I swallowed. “Er. Yep. Fine.”

“Plus, a stand for my phone so I can video us and review it later.” She poured the pasta into a bowl to rinse it.

Wait. What? “You’re not videoing this!”

Her hazel eyes were wide as she looked at me over her shoulder. “But it’s a lesson. What if I want to go over the material later?”

“You won’t need to.” Sweet lord, what had I got myself into? I ran a finger around the collar of my polo shirt, which felt tighter than earlier. She’d put more thought into this than most ancient history students put into the Roman legions.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” She shrugged and turned back to the pot of sauce. “I was thinking we could do it by the front door. This sauce is almost done. Are you ready to eat?”

My head was spinning, trying to keep up. “Uh, sure.” I nudged past her to wash my hands in the sink. “The front door?”

“That’s where dates usually try to kiss me,” she said, her voice reasonableness personified. “Well, sometimes it’s in the car, or on the dance floor. Oh, and there was that one time when—”

I held up a hand. “I get the picture.”

She ladled spaghetti into the bowls. “But from our location options tonight, the front door is the best.”

She was so matter-of-fact about this. Was I the only one struggling with the idea? The only one a mile outside my comfort zone?

“I’m not doing this on the porch.” Hell, the only thing that could make this piece of madness worse was an audience.

“Just inside is fine. When I was living at my last place, if I liked them, and if the front door kiss at the end of the night went well, I’d take them to my room. That hasn’t really happened since I moved in here, though.” She sighed as she spooned sauce over the pasta. “Which is why I need your help. Thank you for doing this, by the way.”

She smiled with that trusting smile she’d used with only me since the night we’d met. And right there was the flaw in this plan: could she trust me? She only wanted a lesson. Something impersonal. But kisses weren’t impersonal. Good kisses—and that’s what she wanted—were deep, and carnal, and arousing. My gut clenched tight. The last thing I wanted was to be turned on by Scarlett. That would be all kinds of wrong.

But kisses were fun for their own sake. I liked kissing women—too much for this lesson to be as impersonal as tutoring undergrads in the Egyptian pyramids. The trick would be to not let myself get carried away. To remember who I was kissing—Scarlett, who was practically another little sister. Scarlett, my closest friend, who I wouldn’t hurt for the world. Probably best to keep my eyes open, to keep her in my field of vision at all times so I couldn’t forget.

And no touching below the neck. God, no. This was about a kiss, not copping a feel.

As she carried the bowls to the sofa—there was never any room on the table—I grabbed some glasses and a bottle of soda from the fridge.

Given our plans for the night, I would have preferred vodka, and a lot of it, but I needed to keep my wits about me. As it was, there was already a possibility that tonight was going to drive me certifiably insane.

Scarlett

We ate dinner with a side order of stilted small talk. Finn told me about the first year class he was tutoring tomorrow, and I mentioned the weather—there was a chance of rain overnight. But, really, I was thinking back over my kissing history.

Before last night’s date, I’d had two dates with Artie Campbell, a rich businessman who everyone said was as handsome as sin. And they were right. He’d kissed me at the door the two times he’d dropped me home, then called to cancel our third date. I hadn’t heard from him since. We’d been introduced by Jake Maxwell, the guy I’d been interested in before Artie.

Jake was pretty much the definition of hot—former world champion pro surfer, who had the body to show for it. I thought he was interested in me, and even bought a special come-to-bed dress, but at a work function where I’d hoped things would come together, he’d admitted he was thinking about someone else and introduced me to Artie. Jake and I didn’t even get to the kissing stage.

Jake was now dating my brother’s ex, which just went to show how small Sydney sometimes was.

Before Jake, there was Brad with the red beanie. We’d had exactly three kisses—the first and second at the bar before I’d caught a cab home, and the third on our next date, at my front door when he’d dropped me home after dinner. They’d all been unspeakably awful, thanks in part to his belief that a man’s tongue should imitate a snake’s when kissing—flicking in and out. I’d been relieved when he hadn’t called, because he’d been the sensitive type and I’d been working my way around to letting him down easy.

Larry—with the sunglasses at night—had been a good kisser. I would have enjoyed kissing him some more if he hadn’t shown his true colors by not bothering to call, then brushing me off when we ran into each other at The Three Beers that time.

There had been much more kissing action in high school. Those dreamy nights just filled with lingering, exploring kisses. Even in my first couple of years of university, when I had some relationships for two or three weeks, there had been a lot of kissing. With a couple of guys, we’d pretty much spent the whole three weeks either kissing or in bed together. Talking was good, but I had Finn if I wanted to chat about my day, so it wasn’t as important with a boyfriend.

Of course, that was all before the onset of the dry spell. There hadn’t been any lying around in bed with hot guys since far-too-long ago. Time to fix that.

I finished my meal and put the empty plate on the coffee table without making eye contact with Finn. It was show time.

“Mint?” I offered him the opened end of the packet from my pocket.

“Thanks.” He took one, not making eye contact either. I popped a mint in my mouth, ignoring how my hand trembled a little as I did it.

What else had I meant to do? Lip gloss! I felt around in my pocket and came out with the tube of apple-berry flavored gloss.

“Ready when you are.” I hoped I sounded confident, but as soon as the words were out of my mouth, second thoughts bombarded me. This really was a stupid plan. Butterflies started flailing around in my stomach. Besides my family, my friendship with Finn was the most precious thing in my life. Would this mess with that?

And he didn’t seem as sure as he had last night either. Perhaps it had been the mojitos talking…

“Come on,” he said and headed for the front door. His dark hair was rumpled in the adorable way that happened after he’d been working on his thesis all day, and his jeans and T-shirt were just as crushed. He was so familiar and dear it hurt inside.

I even knew without checking that his pale blue T-shirt matched all the other pale blue T-shirts and polo shirts in his wardrobe. Finn wasn’t a man to waste time choosing clothes—either in the store or in the mornings—so most days he wore the same color shirt and either jeans, shorts or trousers, and desert boots. It was exasperating and adorable in equal measures. When we reached the spot by the door, he dug his hands deep into his pockets and his dark blue eyes met mine. “Before we start, I just want to say kissing is fun. Well, it is if it’s done right. ”

“Noted.” I adjusted my green leopard-print glasses, not sure where he was going with this.

“But,” he said, his voice serious, “I don’t want it to be fun for us.”

“So, you don’t want to do it right…?”

“No, I want this one to be done right, but…” He screwed up his face as if searching for words. “Even though it’s fun, I don’t want it to become a habit for us or anything.”

I held back the grin that was threatening. “You think this could be a habit? Like Chinese on a Thursday night?”

“Yes. Well, no.” He drew in a deep breath and shoved his fingers through his already rumpled hair. “I just don’t want to be giving mixed signals.”

“Okay, no mixed signals.” That sounded easy enough. We had our signals pretty much down pat.

He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “To make sure, I think we should agree beforehand that there will be no touching below the neck.”

“You think I’m going to leap on you, Finn?” I asked, giggling.

“Scarlett,” he said, his voice exasperated. “I’m trying to be serious here.”

My giggle faded away. He was doing me the favor, so I shouldn’t be making this harder. “You’re right. I’m sorry. No touching below the neck. Agreed.”

“Good.” He reached out and cupped the side of my face in his palm. It felt so nice that my breath caught. He’d done it before, when I’d been sad or nervous about something, but this time it felt different, somehow weighted with expectation.

I swallowed hard. “Anything else I should know first? Things to make special note of during the exercise? Which side to tilt my head? You want my glasses off?”

“Ah, no,” he said, then dropped his hand and dug into his jeans pocket. My cheek was cool where his skin had been.

“I’ll just pay attention then.” It was barely above a whisper.

He frowned, just for a moment. “That’s probably best.”

I winced. In all the time I’d known Finn, I couldn’t remember having a more awkward conversation, or seeing him looking more uncomfortable. If he were any more tense, he’d be one of those statues from his textbooks. Those second thoughts had been right. This was a bad idea.

“You know what,” I said, taking half a step back. “This isn’t really working. Let’s forget it. I’ll call Cole Jericho in the morning and—”

Before I could finish the sentence, his hands were on either side of my face and his lips covered mine. Half from surprise and half in reaction to the kiss, I fell back against the wall behind me. He followed, not letting our mouths break contact, but true to his word, we weren’t touching below the neck.

He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, lightly biting down, and suddenly every part of me was alive. Alive and wanting. I opened my mouth to deepen the kiss, felt his tongue slide in, and I almost combusted there on the spot.

His tongue was confident yet gentle, inviting me into his mouth, and in that moment, there was nowhere else I wanted to be. He tasted of breath mints, and something deeper. Something decadent. Yet his familiar Finn scent surrounded me, and the combination of the two sensations was short-circuiting my brain.

His lips were soft. Demanding. Heaven. The feeling of his tongue moving against mine, the rhythm he created, sent my blood rushing through my veins. It was too much but not enough.

Finn.

He released me for a fraction of a second as he changed the angle, and this time I couldn’t help myself—I took control and was the one kissing him, sucking his bottom lip, pushing against his mouth. A shudder ran through his body, and then it was as if he’d hit the fast forward button. His lips were everywhere, dancing over the corner of my mouth, teeth nipping along my jawline, before he was back, kissing me again, his tongue sliding into home, firm against mine. My heart beat so hard against my ribs it felt in danger of bursting through.

This wasn’t kissing as I knew it. This was a whole other level.

My hands were itching to grip his waist, to pull him against me, but we’d agreed to no touching below the neck, so I threaded them into his hair, and the slide of the strands on the sensitive skin between my fingers gave me shivers down to my toes. I’d never been so turned on by just a kiss. And the weird thing was, it was Finn who was making me feel this way. Finn. I wasn’t sure if I’d said his name aloud or it was in my head, but it was the only word that made sense now that the world was upside down.

Suddenly, his body stiffened then jerked back. Head spinning, I stumbled but caught myself before I fell. It was over. Just like that. The lesson was over. His chest was rising and falling as if he’d been running, and I knew just how he felt.

“So, um, yeah,” he said. “That’s a basic kiss. You seemed quite good at it already. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

With his eyes studiously trained on the floor, he turned and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me trying to catch my breath. And remember my name. And how to use my legs. I slid down the wall to the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees. That was what he called a basic kiss?

What the hell had I been missing out on all these years?




Chapter Three

Scarlett

The next day, I was on the phone at work, listening to a man telling me how important it was he be put through to the senior partner right away, despite me telling him seven times already the senior partner was in court and couldn’t take calls. My mind drifted to that moment Finn had shuddered when I’d sucked on his bottom lip. My skin flushed even remembering it.

God, this was so not the time. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to also squeeze the memory out of my brain. Or at least my reaction to it—becoming turned on at work was not the way to fast track my career.

To distract myself, I took off my cobalt-blue glasses to wipe a smudge on the edge of my top. Some girls spent their disposable income on shoes, others spent way too much on clothes. Me? I couldn’t walk past an eyewear store without browsing the racks. I had contact lenses, but I liked the way glasses made me look. A good pair added three words to my description—serious, smart, and mysterious. Totally worth it.

The guy on the other end of the line finally accepted that I’d pass the message on as soon as possible, and hung up. And I started thinking about Finn’s mouth again…

I needed something new to distract me, fast. Luckily, fate seemed to be in a wish-granting mood, because right then Jake Maxwell walked through the door with an arm around my brother’s ex, Annalise Farley. Annalise and I had had a bit of an intense discussion last time I saw her—she’d misunderstood something I’d said to Thomas about their relationship—but once she explained what the problem was, I told her I’d only meant that Thomas felt a lot more for her than she did for him, and, luckily, things were good between us again. I jumped up and moved around the counter to greet her with a hug.

“Scarlett,” she said. “I was hoping you’d be on the desk so we could say hello.”

“I’m always here.” Much to my parents’ disappointment.

Jake pulled me into a hug when Annalise and I moved apart. “Good to see you.”

I stood back and smiled. “You, too. What brings you back to Sydney? I thought you’d moved to Queensland.”

“We have, but we were down visiting Kelly and the baby, and thought we’d get some legal paperwork for Annalise’s fashion label done while we were here.”

I turned back to Annalise. “You have your own label now? That’s fabulous.”

She bit down on a smile. “It’s only very small at the moment, but still, things are going much better than I’d ever dreamed.”

“You deserve it,” I said. Not only did Annalise have a big, sweet heart, she was a really good designer. I’d bought a couple of things she’d designed when Jake started stocking them in his surfwear stores. “You both look great. Happy. This being in love thing is really working out for you.”

They sneaked a glance at each other and shared a secret smile. They were so darn cute together that if I were given to displays of sentimentality, I’d probably shed a happy tear.

“Yeah,” Jake said, “it’s working out really well. You should try it sometime. You dating anyone?”

A nervous laugh escaped my throat. “Ah, no.”

Annalise rested a hand on my forearm, her green eyes searching mine. “This is probably out of line, but I always assumed you and Finn would end up together.”

Another nervous laugh, this time accompanied by a step backward. “No, no. Just friends. Nothing more. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. You just seemed to have a deeper connection than merely friends.” She turned to Jake. “When I was seeing Thomas, Scarlett would bring Finn to family gatherings for birthdays and things. He’s a great guy, and perfect for Scarlett—”

I stepped all the way back to the reception desk. “How about I see if they’re ready for you?”

Annalise arched an eyebrow and Jake gave me a knowing smile, but we said our good-byes and they headed off to see their lawyer.

After they’d gone, I was back where I’d started. Thinking about Finn’s mouth. And how it had made me melt. Jake and Annalise had been a good distraction for a few minutes…right up until they’d started talking about the person I was trying not to think about.

Sighing, I turned to Andrea, the other receptionist.

“I’m taking a ten minute coffee break. Are you okay here?”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll take one after you.”

Puppy-dog mug in hand, I headed for the staff room. Caffeine would help me get through the day, especially since I’d lost about half the night’s sleep by laying in bed, replaying that kiss.

“Hey, Scarlett.” Cathy, a personal assistant to one of the lawyers, and my regular lunch partner, waved me over to the table by the window. I wasn’t sure if I was better off being alone, or if the distraction of conversation would help me. Distraction was worth a try.

After waving back, I made a coffee and sat down across from her. “How’s your day?”

Cathy shrugged. “Same same. Yours?”

Filled with memories of Finn’s tongue in my mouth, actually.

Something must have shown in my expression because she put her mug down. “What’s going on?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, debating whether this was something I should share or not.

“Come on,” Cathy said. “Spill.”

Maybe distraction wasn’t the best plan—it hadn’t worked this morning. Talking it out and getting some perspective might be better.

“Okay, here’s the thing.” I looked down at my coffee. “I kissed my best friend last night, in what might have been a monumental mistake.”

Cathy’s eyes widened. “Hang on, isn’t your best friend your gorgeous roommate who sometimes picks you up after work?”

“Yep,” I said on a sigh, “that’s him. Finn.”

She frowned, then her forehead cleared as if she suddenly understood, and she nodded. “Was it awful?”

Memories of heat and mouths and teeth cascaded into my mind. “Nope. In fact, I had no idea kisses could be that good.”

“Then I’m missing something. You already think he’s a good guy, he’s super hot, and he kisses well. You’ll need to point the problem out to me.”

I glanced around the stark white room, searching for inspiration on how to explain this to an outsider. Finding none, I gave up and took another sip of my coffee before answering. “The thing you have to understand about Finn is that all his passion is dedicated to ancient Mesopotamia. He loses interest in relationships quickly. He dates girls fairly regularly, but he wouldn’t be a great boyfriend.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Not great in what way?”

“Well, he’s forgotten he’s had a date more times than I can remember. Being his roommate, I’ve had a front row seat to the drama of a girl calling from the restaurant they were supposed to be meeting at, or waiting for him to pick her up.” He always apologized for putting me in that position, but it was the other girls I felt sorry for.

“That’s pretty rough,” she said, wincing.

“Yeah, they usually forgive him the first few times—”

“First few times?”

“—but they always walk away in the end. And I swear sometimes Finn doesn’t even notice they’re gone.”

We were both silent for a few moments, absorbing the disaster that was Finn’s love life.

“But he’d notice you,” Cathy said finally. “Remember you.”

“He wouldn’t have much option since I have the bedroom next door. But it’s more than that. He’s…” How could I put it? “Emotionally distant with them, I guess.”

“But not with you.” She pointed a red-tipped finger at me. “So this could be perfect.”

“Not with me now. While I’m his friend. But if we started sleeping together, who knows what would happen.” If it all went pear-shaped, I could lose my best friend. Not to mention my home and my icemaker. “I’d rather be his friend than his girlfriend, no question. They come and go, but I have him all the time.” I had a permanent Scarlett-shaped place in his life.

She leaned back and lifted her feet onto another chair, as if the problem was so big, she had to get settled in. “Okay, if getting involved is off the cards, then kissing was a mistake.”

“A monumental mistake,” I corrected.

“Okay, a monumental mistake. So what will you do now?”

“First, I have to stop thinking about it.” Given that had proven impossible so far, my optimism wasn’t high.

“That good, huh?” she asked with a goofy grin.

“Hell, yes.” I folded my arms on the table and dropped my head down.

She patted my head, as if I was a puppy, and gently asked, “And if you manage to stop thinking about it, what then?”

“I have no clue.” Even after spending all night thinking about it. “Something to get us back into the friend zone.”

“Okay, here’s an idea.” She sat up straight in her chair, and I looked up to see her fix me with a sure gaze. “You need a date, and quickly.”

A date? When I was this messed up? I shook my head. “I’m not sure I’m in the headspace for that right now.”

“Your headspace is exactly the problem. You need a date, and you have to kiss him. Then your most recent kiss flashback will be that guy, not Finn.” She crossed her arms and sat back, looking altogether very pleased with herself.

“Supersede him.” It made sense. Supplant one memory with another. Then I could go back to thinking of Finn as my roommate and friend and everything would be normal again. “Okay, I’ll do it. How do I find someone quickly?”

“How about David? I could set you two up on a date.”

Her boss, David, was gorgeous and successful, but he worked here. “If I’m trying to fix something where I’ve crossed a few boundaries, then the solution probably shouldn’t be to cross more boundaries.”

“You’re right. Someone away from work.” She tapped her chin as she thought, and I tried not to feel too pathetic at her having to find me a mercy date.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been ten minutes already. “I have to get back to the front desk. But thanks for the chat.”

She grabbed my wrist. “I’ve got it. My boyfriend’s friend, Peter, just broke up with his girlfriend. I bet he’d love the chance to get out of the house and dip his toe back in the dating pool, so you’d be doing him a favor, too.”

“Sure, that would be great,” I said, pretending to be enthusiastic. “Thanks.”

“Just make sure you kiss him,” she called out as I reached the door. “Something that creates a new memory.”

I waved and hurried back to my desk with no conviction whatsoever that this plan would work. But it was the only plan I had, so it was at least worth a shot. Losing Finn from my life was not an option.

Finn

Turning my mountain bike into our street, I eased off on the speed. I usually biked to uni on weekdays because parking was difficult, but tonight it also served the purpose of exhausting my body. An exhausted body was a quiet body, and a quiet body would hopefully be unable to make suggestions about what it wanted to do to Scarlett when I got home.

Well, that was the theory. Once I’d dropped my bike off in the garage and found Scarlett up in her attic art room, painting, I realized exhaustion was going to be no help whatsoever.

She hadn’t seen me, which gave me a few moments to observe her in her element. She had purple paint smeared in her blond hair, and there was a glow coming from within as she painted—it was what she was meant to do with her life, I had no doubt. But other than the glow, her face was filled with the emotions she was infusing into the painting. That was the thing about Scarlett—she wore her heart on her sleeve, let everyone know what she was thinking. The complete opposite of me.

Girlfriends had accused me before of being aloof, and I supposed that was a fair call. I’d had a hard time letting anyone get close since my parents died. My sisters were different—I was halfway between a brother and a parent to them, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for either one of them. It had been a rocky road for all three of us, but we’d muddled through—Billie, with the tried and true teenager coping mechanism of locking herself in her room with her music up loud, and Amelia with her dancing.

And I’d had my history books.

Any spare moment my sisters hadn’t needed me had been spent with the people of ancient Greece, Egypt, Rome, and Mesopotamia. Modern people—school principals, dance teachers, extended family wanting to help but not knowing how—were more problematic.

Things were different with Scarlett, probably because of the way we’d met—she was the only new person I’d really let past my guard since I was eighteen. She’d become family. An honorary little sister. Obviously she wasn’t a real sister, so it had been a little tricky at first. There are certain rules a guy needs to have in place to keep a friendship alive with someone he finds attractive. To keep the relationship firmly in the friend zone.


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