Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Or it should have been.
I certainly tried hard enough to convince myself it was.
But when I found myself contemplating a few guys on my semi-friendly list of recent dates, wondering which of them would react least-terribly if I asked him to pretend to adore me at my sister’s wedding, I finally gave up and texted Rafa.
Hugh
Tell me not to invite Oscar to Abby’s party. Tell me it’s the worst idea in the history of ideas. Tell me I’ll regret it forever.
Rafa
OMG, brilliant! You should definitely invite him. He’s a professional wedding guest AND he owes you a favor AND he might throw you a bone at the end of the night, which is more than you’d get if I was your date. Also, he’s hot, rich as fuck, and guaranteed to make Jared jealous. What’s not to love?
Hugh
You’re a terrible wingman.
Rafa
I’m the BEST wingman. You need an impressive date and he’s a friend who fits the bill. Boom. Done. What more do you need?
Hugh
Oh, IDK. Maybe some pride? Maybe a shred of self-protection? Also, we’re not friends anymore, remember? He probably won’t even agree.
Rafa
Bet he will. Bet he misses you—who wouldn’t?—and you’d be doing both of you a favor. And it’ll be on YOUR terms, Hugh. Party date and a little bonus benefit of sex after, then you both return to your lives as if nothing happened.
Hugh
That’s not something I’m capable of doing and I believe you know that.
It would be the equivalent of re-breaking a bone that had only just begun to knit itself together…
Or had begun to contemplate knitting, at least.
Rafa
Which is the lesser evil? Asking him and potentially being slightly more miserable than your current state of miserable afterward? Or being single and alone while Jared and his drummer hang all over each other?
“Fuck,” I groaned, throwing myself onto a nearby park bench. I put my phone down and rubbed my face with both hands. “Fuck!”
The devil on my shoulder spoke in Rafa’s voice. The angel sounded a bit like me during an ugly cry after a particularly bad breakup.
I told myself I was too smart to listen to the devil. Anyone with a brain in their head knew this was a bad idea.
But, dammit, I was tired of doing all the right things to find my happily ever after and having fuck all to show for it but a “current state of miserable.” Maybe Abby was right—maybe holding out for perfection wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. How well was that working out for me, anyhow? So maybe just this once, I could let myself have a little bit of happy right now with the gorgeous man I couldn’t stop thinking about… and let the happily ever after chips fall where they may.
I grabbed my phone again and made a call.
13
OSCAR
When I entered my mom’s Vermont home, I wasn’t surprised to see it bursting at the seams. She’d never been particularly social when I was growing up, but that was more due to her location on an isolated ranch than anything else. Once she’d moved east and married Birch, it had been like watching a flower bloom in the sun.
She thrived on being around people, and she loved every minute of being a stepmother to Birch’s now-grown kids.
“Oscar!” My stepsister Marigold came at me from the side, tackling me around the waist like a pro athlete and nearly knocking me into an overfull coat rack. “Crap, how long’s it been since you showed your face around here? Eons. Absolute forever. You smell good. What is that? Something fancy, I can tell. You’ll have to give me the name so I can get some for Cyan.”
I hugged her back. “You still seeing that car thief? I’d hoped you’d seen the light by now.”
“Pfft. Artists, you know? He likes to go on little adventures for inspiration. It’s part of the process.”
“It’s part of a life of crime,” I shot back. I could feel my lips turn up with the tease. Marigold was a character, and she radiated energetic joy.
“Mom’s in the kitchen. Come on.” She grabbed my arm and started hauling me deeper into the house.
Even though my mom and Birch had been together for over fifteen years, I still hadn’t gotten used to someone other than me calling my mother “Mom.” It was weird. Rationally, I appreciated the idea that they loved her enough to honor her that way. My heart went out to them for losing their own mother so young. And I knew it made my mom very happy. But it made me feel strange. Like I no longer held the closest relationship with the one family member I had.
“There he is!” Birch’s voice carried across the family room as he stood up and set one of the grandkids down. “How was the drive? Run into any weather?”