NAUGHTYBYNATURE

ADDISONMOORE

HOLLISTHATCHERPRESS,LTD.

Contents

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

EditedbyPaigeMaroneySmith

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TableofContents

CreatedwithVellum

BOOKSBYADDISONMOORE

Romance

3:AMKisse s(3:AMKisse s1)

Winte rKisse s(3:AMKisse s2)

SugarKisse s(3:AMKisse s3)

Whiske yKisse s(3:AMKisse s4)

RockCandyKisse s(3:AMKisse s5)

Ve lve tKisse s(3:AMKisse s6)

WildKisse s(3:AMKisse s7)

CountryKisse s(3:AMKisse s8)

Forbidde nKisse s(3:AMKisse s9)

DirtyKisse s(3:AMKisse s10)

Stole nKisse s(3:AMKisse s11)

LuckyKisse s(3:AMKisse s12)

Re ve nge Kisse s(3:AMKisse s13)

BurningThroughGravity(BurningThroughGravity1)

AThousandStarryNights(BurningThroughGravity2)

FireinanAmberSky(BurningThroughGravity3)

BeautifulOblivion(BeautifulOblivion1)

BeautifulIllusions(BeautifulOblivion2)

BeautifulElixir(BeautifulOblivion3)

TheSolitudeofPassion

SomeonetoLove(SomeonetoLove1)

SomeoneLikeYou(SomeonetoLove2)

SomeoneForMe(SomeonetoLove3)

YoungAdultRomance

MeltWithYou(ATotally’80sRomance1)

TaintedLove(ATotally’80sRomance2)

HoldMeNow(ATotally’80sRomance3)

ParnormalRomance

(CelestraBookWorldinOrder)

Ethe re al(Ce le straSe rie sBook1)

Tre mble (Ce le straSe rie sBook2)

Burn(Ce le straSe rie sBook3)

Wicke d(Ce le straSe rie sBook4)

Ve x(Ce le straSe rie sBook5)

Expe l(Ce le straSe rie sBook6)

ToxicPartOne (Ce le straSe rie sBook7)

ToxicPartTwo(Ce le straSe rie sBook8)

Elysian(Ce le straSe rie sBook9)

Pe rfe ctLove (ACe le straNove lla)

EtherealKnights(CelestraKnights)

SeasonoftheWitch(ACelestraCompanion)

Ephemeral(TheCountenanceTrilogy1)

Evanescent(TheCountenanceTrilogy2)

Entropy(TheCountenanceTrilogy3)

CelestraForeverAfter(CelestraForeverAfter1)

TheDragonandtheRose(CelestraForeverAfter2)

TheSerpentineButterfly(CelestraForeverAfter3)

CrownofAshes(CelestraForeverAfter4)Soon!

MIDNIGHTMISCHIEF

POPPY

axsonStadeisaRomanstatuecometolife,carvedbytheancientmasterswithabodyofagodand

a heart of impenetrable steel—most likely fashioned by those rolls of alloy that have made his

familybillionairestentimesover.It’shardtobelieveafteralltheseyearswe’reinthesameroom,feeton

thefloorwithinfightingdistanceintheverysamebar.Alivebandcroonsinthecorner,anentirecrowd

ofbodieshustlesforspacebetweenusasthescentofstalefriesandbeerfillsmysenses,butit’sJaxson

andhisobnoxiouspresencethathasmyfullattention.

Atinyblondescootsinbesideme.“PoppyMontgomery!Nowisthatalookofyearningorburningon

yourprettylittleface?”

Iglanceoveratmybestfriend,whomIhaven’tseeninthefleshinfartoolong,anddiveintoaquick

embrace.“It’salookofchurning—asinrevulsion.Andbytheway,I’mprettysureyearningandburning

areoneinthesame,SadieRichards.”Ipullherintoahugwithanexplosionoflaughteraswebounceup

anddownlikesix-year-olds.

“I’m so happy to have you back!” Her blonde curls dust my face as she does her best to crush my

ribcage. “You can never leave again. I’m not letting you go.” Sadie is a pixy incarnate. Tiny features,

sparklingpinklips,bigbluedoeeyes—SadieisgorgeousenoughtomakeanyonewithanX-chromosome

looktwice.She’spetiteandbeautifulandanall-aroundvixen—andshejustsohappenstobecomingoff

ofwhatshereferstoasherveryfirstdivorce.It’ssafetosay,Sadieisplanningonamassingherfairshare

ofexes.“Areyouscopingoutthemidnightofferings?”Shebumpsmyhipwithherown.

Midnight. I shudder at the prospect of being void a set of lips to press against mine at that annual

bewitchinghour.

New Year’s Eve is just the kind of holiday that requires copious amounts of alcohol, lots of carnal

cavorting with friends and potential lovers alike, and, perhaps best of all, a sexual situation brewing

aroundmidnight.ButthisNewYear’sEveisdifferent.It’smyfirstinOakGrovesinceIleftfiveyears

ago.I’vebeenbackfortheoddobligatoryholiday,thislastChristmaswithstanding.Myfamilyalternates

hostingtheholyholidaywiththeStadefamilyeveryotheryear—asinJaxsonStade’sfamily—andevery

otheryearI’mmagicallyandmysteriouslyunabletomakeit.WhileIwasstillincollege,mytried-and-

trueexcusewascitingpost-finalexhaust,andaftergraduationafauxinternshipcroppedup,butthispast

Christmas, I was wrapping up my last two weeks at work as a design consultant to an impressive L.A.

firm.Yes,fiveyearsataprivatecollegeonabeachinSantaBarbarahasdonemewell.Imanagedtoland

myselfacushypositionatatopfirmtoutedhighlybyeveryonewhoisanyoneinLaLaLand.ButIdigress

asmyeyesfallbackonthesightthey’vebeencravingforohsolong,JaxsonStade…don’tevengetme

startedonthathotbody.Ibitedownovermylowerlipasanachingsighexpelsfromme.

“Heisasighttobehold.”Adark-hairedbeauty,smellingofthatsweetfamiliartea-scentedperfume

I’vecometoassociatewithmysister,popsuponmyleft.

“Mackenzie!” I pull her into a tight embrace as my second hug-fest of the evening ensues. Back in

L.A.,I’veyettohugasinglesoul.Cometofindout,suchashowofaffectionispracticallyillegalinthe

CityofAngels.Initsplacearewell-delineatedphysicalboundariesandsexualassaultinfringements.“Is

Conner here?” Conner is Mack’s twin, and thankfully our one and only overprotective brother. Back in

highschool,Icouldn’tgotwostepswithadatewithoutConnergivingthemashakedownworthyofan

FBIinvestigation.

Macksquawksattheprospect.“Connertookoffwithsomehotblondeoveranhourago—butnever

mindourwhorishbigbro.YoureallytookacraponChristmasthisyear,Pops.Wemissedyou.”

It makes my stomach churn to hear her say that. Sure, I feel guilty missing other holidays, too, but

missing Christmas feels like something just this side of a felony. Christmas is huge in my family, and I

hate that I missed out on all the caroling and cavorting because I’m essentially a coward. I shoot Jax a

knife-sharplookbecausewebothknowit’sallhisfault.

“I’mherenow.”IpatMackovertheshoulders,drinkingdownthisslightlyolderversionofmyself,

same dark wavy hair, same lucent green eyes. My mother called us her Irish twins mostly because we

werebornayearapart—shedidn’tletthesheetscoolasshesoindelicatelyputsit.Buttothisday,Ithink

thereferencehasmoretodowiththeseemeraldlenseswegettoseetheworldthrough.“AndI’mreadyto

take a crap all over the New Year, too, so you’d better watch out. Where’s your better half?” Mack

married her longtime boyfriend, Dave Holiday, right out of high school. They’ve been hitched for a

blissfulsixyearsandhaveaboyandagirlunderfootalready,EllieandBenny.Well—blissfulmightbea

tad exaggerating. An acid tongue is a longtime family trait that has been passed down on our mother’s

side,andissomethingbothmysisterandIhaveincommon.Apparently,itdoesn’tbodewellforspouses,

thustheconstantstrifethetwoyounglovebirdsface,andsadlythustheconstantstrifeintheirmarriage.

“Myotherhalfisprobablyliterallycrapping.Hetappedoutandsentmeintothewild.Iknewyou’d

behere,andIwouldn’tmissit.DidyouseeMom?”

“Onlyforasecond.Myflightcameinlate,andbythetimeIdraggedmyluggageintothehouse,she

and Dad were already headed up to bed. She pointed me to the party and hit the sack.” It’s true.

Everybody,includingmymother,knowsthattheStarryNightsBarandGrillistheplacetobeonthisthe

lustiest night of the year—and every night outside of that, considering that it’s the beating heart of Oak

Grove.Thisisbasicallyitasfarasthepartyscenegoes,andjudgingbyhowpackeditis,thelocalsand

theDenveroverflowalikedon’tseemtomindit.

“So, what do you think?” Sadie hooks her arm through mine as she nods over toward Jax and the

hornylittleharemamassingaroundhim.

MackleansinandsinkshergazeinthegodofOakGrove’sdirection.“Iknowyou’rewondering—

andyes—he’ssingleasasliceofcheese.”

BothSadieandIgroan.Mackisthequeenofthecheesyone-liners.

“Ofcourse,he’ssingle,”Igruntasthegirlscrowdinghimblockhimfromview.“He’samanwhore.

Everyoneknowsyoucan’tholdagoodmanwhoredown—especiallynotonewithhisbankaccountlined

insolidgoldKrugerrands.”

“Butwecantry!”LarissaDebeers,adark-hairedvixen,faceofacold-heartedbitch,wholooksasif

shebelongsonaVictoria’sSecretrunwayratherthanholedupinOakGrove,popsupswillingacherry

red cocktail in her well-manicured hand. Yes, Jax is panty-dropping gorgeous, but he’s also loaded,

whichmeanshebringsthegolddiggerstotheyard,caseinpointLarissa.“Nicetoseeyouslumming,Pop

Top,”saystheKrugerrands’huntressherself.

Wow. You flash the boys’ track team just once in your entire scholastic career and you garner a

nicknamethatendurestimeimmemorial.

“IseeL.A.isdoingwellbyyou,”Larissamusesasshetakesmeinfromheadtotoe.Larissahadher

own stint in L.A., and thankfully our paths never crossed. She was out trying to progress her modeling

slashactingcareer,butafteronemediocrecommercialtoutingtheillsofayeastinfection,shepackedup

heryeast-infectedbehindandhightaileditbacktoOakGrove.I’mguessingthatvaginalitchforJaxand

hisbillionsneverquitewentaway.There’snocureforgreedy.

“Louboutinheelsinasnowstorm?”Shesnorts.“Snugleatherjacket—thatfitsasifCinderella’smice

themselves adhered it to your body? And those jeans?” Her brows rise in amusement. “I’d ask if you

paintedthemon,butmyguessisyou’vegonepantlessandyourfleshhasturnedahealthyshadeofblue.”

I’dlaugh,butIpromisedmyselflongagoIwouldn’twastetheenergyonLarissa.Wehaveabriefyet

tumultuoushistorynotworthyofrepeating.

I’d ask why she’s kept her feet planted in Oak Grove, but according to her body language, her own

paintedonclothing,it’sapparentwhyshe’shangingaround.“StillworkingonyourMRSdegreeattheU

of Oak Grove, I see.” I nod toward Jax without meaning to, not that it’s a secret she’s heavily into the

town’shonoraryplayboy.

“Mmm,”shemoans,takinghiminwiththerestofus.“It’strue.I’vealwayshadahankeringfortall,

filthyrich,andgorgeous.ButJaxyBoyisuntouchable.Ithinkthat’swhythegirlsswoontwiceashard.”

Shelookstomewiththosedarkambereyes.“Agirlalwayswantswhatshecan’thave.Isn’tthatright,

PopTop?”Shegivesaslywinkbeforeslinkingaway.

“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”MyfoottwistsinmyLouboutinasifdolingoutathreat.

“Don’tlistentoher.”Sadieshoveshercosmopolitaninmyhand,andItakeaquicksip.“She’sjust

bitter because the closer you are to her favorite boy toy, she knows that her chances of landing him

horizontalforthenightdecreasedramatically.”

“That might be true,” Mack muses. “But nonetheless, she is one of his regulars. That boy has every

available girl in town on a crop rotation—they’re well-trained to his nefarious ways, too. The only

catfightsthattakeplaceareathisrequest.Rumorhasit,allofthosewrestlingmatchestakeplaceinbedat

hiscommand.Davesayshe’stakingthemthreeatatimenow.”

“Disgusting,”IhissasJaxslowlybecomesenvelopedbytheharlotsvyingforachancetobecomeone

inthree.“God,whendidhemorphintosuchapervert?Andit’sshockinghismotherputsupwiththat.”

His mother just so happens to be my own mother’s lifelong best friend, and if they’re about anything,

they’re about getting into every sloppy detail of their children’s lives. To them, it’s not only a haunting

pastime— it’s research. Charlene—my mother, and Debbie—the one who sponsored Jaxson’s birther

movement,haveinrecentyearsembarkedontheprecariousworldofblogging.

TheMischiefMavens’BakingBloghashadoveramillionhitslastyear.Yes,you’vereadthatright.

Amillionhitsmeansthatthey’veactuallyspellboundajuryoftheirpeersandtrickedthemintocoming

backtimeandtimeagain.Andbelieveyoume,thatwholebakingthingisjustaconfectionaryruse.The

most popular feature of their blog falls under the category of mischief. You see, pranks and all things

shenaniganshappentobeourmothers’specialty.Donningfuzzypinkrobesandcurlersjusttodropusoff

at school was a regular running gag—the irony being that neither of them slept in curlers. I can’t even

counthowmanyHalloweennightstheyfollowedclosebehindthetwoofuswithdemonicclownmasks

and axes. If you’ve surmised the fact that we never trick-or-treated with other people, you’ve guessed

right.

Thentherewasthetimetheyshoweduptoourprom.Theymadenobonesaboutthefacttheywere

chronicallypissedthatbothJaxandIchosetogostagratherthanaseachother’splusone.Ofcourse,the

mischief mavens decided that what better way to mark the occasion as regrettable than dancing the

Macarena right beside us? And the last, but I’m sure not final stunt they pulled on the two of us was

alteringtheacceptancelettersfromtheuniversitiesweappliedto,informingusthatwehadswiftlybeen

rejectedfromeachandeveryschool,wheninfacttheoppositeweretrue.Theycoppedtoitsoonenough,

butthelaughwasonthemonceIchoseaschoolthousandsofmilesawayfromthemataprivateuniversity

inL.A.thatcamecompletewithamajorscholarship.Onlyitwasn’tthetwoofthemIwasrunningfrom.

Sadie steps in close with her arms crossed, that oddly vexed look on her face, and it makes me

wonderifshewantshercosmoback.“Ofcourse,hismotherknowshe’sapervert.Everybodywithapair

ofeyesknowsthat.ButI’mprettysureshedoesn’twantthatforherpreciousbabyboy.Infact,youofall

peopleshouldrealizewhatJaxson’smotherwantsforhim—orshouldIsaywho?”

“Notthisagain.”Idowntherestofherdrinkandslamtheglassonthetablenexttomelikeagavel.

“Youknowit’strue.”Mackshakesherhead.“MomandDebhavealwaysthoughtyoutwobelonged

together.Assoonasyouwereborn,theypressedyourlittlehandinhis.”

“I know. I’ve seen the picture.” It sits in a frame just outside my old bedroom along with an entire

childhoodmontageofthefriendshipJaxandIonceshared.Ourmothersdeliveredusthreemonthsapart—

andweretheyeverthrilledtohaveabrideforbabyJaxson.LittledidtheyknowtheirpreciousJJ,asthey

affectionatelycalledhim,wouldturnintoapetridishforallsortsofnewstrainsofsyphilis.“But,poor

Debwillhavetofindanotherbrideforherwaywardsluttyson,”Ihuff.“Onethatdoesn’tmindsharingthe

marriagebedwitharevolvingdoorofhussies.”

Jax and I used to be the best of friends—and then puberty hit and ruined that good time. Jax and I

started with the puppy dog eyes about fifth grade—but a quick peck of a kiss in the middle of our

freshmanyearlandedusinanunspeakablyawkwardplace.Itdidn’thelpthatourmothersglommedonto

thatpimple-lacedopportunemomenttoplanourupcomingnuptials.

Then,inoursophomoreyearofhighschool,Jaxcorneredmenexttotheoldoakinhismother’sfront

yardthatwemusthaveclimbedathousandtimestositinthetreehouseperchedinitsbranches—andhe

straightupaskedifIlikedhim.Ofcourse,Ilied.IsaidIwastotallyinlovewithMilesFramptonfrom

historyclass,andthatifheevercorneredmewiththatI’m-going-to-land-you-horizontallookinhiseyes

again,IwouldhaveMilestearhishairylittleballsoff.That,rightthere,launchedusontoarockyroad

thatwehaveneverrecoveredfrom.

Jax didn’t seem too afraid of my quasi-violent verbal exchange. Instead, he happily starred in a

paradeofvaginas—anentiresisterhoodofgirlswhofelltotheirkneesandworshipedatthealtarofhis

boxers.

Iknowwhatyou’rethinking.Whythelie?IwishIknewthatmyself.Butsex,lies,andvaginaparades

aside, Jax has morphed from the sweet, kindhearted boy whom I once made mud pies with, to an

obnoxioussexmachinethatseesprospectivebedmatesasnothingmorethanwalkingunrupturedhymens

and pillowy boobs he can bury both his face and junk in. Jax Stade is not the boy I grew up with, and

that’stoobadbecauseIactuallymissthatboyonoccasion.

“Oh,hon”—Sadieshakesherheadinhisdirection—“ifIknowonethingaboutJaxsonStade—it’sthat

therewillbenomarriagebed.”

“Andifyou’relucky”—Mackholdsherdrinkintheair—“you’llbothescapethatthornymatrimonial

cageyourself.”

BothsheandSadiewhoopitupinhonoroftheirshareddisdainforthediamond-cladunion.

Mackshuddersasshedownstheshotinherhandandletsoutahowlthatnearlypiercesmyeardrum.

“Who’s in for another round? I’ve got you covered, girls.” She takes a few dancing steps away as she

edgestowardthebar.“We’regoingtogetM.C.Hammeredtonight!”

“Nice.” I frown over at my lush of a sister. It’s clear I’ll be the designated driver of the evening.

Hunter,myoldbuddywhoownstheStarryNightsBarandGrill,actuallyhasasysteminplacetomake

suretherearenodrunkdriversonthelooseinOakGrove.There’sanentirevolunteerforcereadyand

willingtopickupthesloppydrunksastheystumbleoutofthebar.

“Nice?” Sadie nudges her shoulder up against mine. “Or is it naughty thoughts infiltrating your

undersexedbrain?Thatboyhasitgoingon,Poppy.”Sheletsoutadeep,unrulymoan.“Youdorealizeyou

arethesolereasonIhaven’tpouncedonthatChristmaspackagehe’sgottuckedawayinthosetightinall

therightplaces,naturallydistressedLevi’s.ThisisthefirstnightI’veseenhiminanythingbutasuit,and,

dearGod,youhavenotliveduntilyou’veseenJaxsonStadeinawell-sculptedItalianmasterpiece.”She

swoonsoncue,andasmuchasIhatemyselfforit,Iswoonrightalongwithher.

“I’veseenhiminasuitplentyoftimes.”True.AndIcanattesttothefacthe’sjustassexyandswoon-

worthyassheclaims.

“Not lately. Not with that new body of his. Jax has been hitting the irons like a prisoner. He’s

practicallyafixtureonthemainroadashejogsthatrock-hard,shirtless,glossedwithsweatbodyofhis.

Mmm...”Shegivesawistfulshakeofthehead.“Youshouldseethebackuponthattwo-lanestretchfrom

seventonine.”

“Seven to nine in the morning? I see he’s going after the MILF demographic.” Not surprising since

everyoneknowshe’sjustaboutraisinghissister’ssoneversinceJules’shusbandranoutonher.Julesis

afewyearsolderthanus,andmyheartbrokewhenIheardheroafofahusbandtookofffortheconcrete

pasturesofManhattan.

“Hedoesn’tcareabouttheMILFs,Poppy.”Sadiecocksherheadasifshewantsmetoreadbetween

theMILF-fylines,butIrefusetodoit.Thereisabsolutelynothingtoreadatall.JaxandIsimplyaren’t

happening.

Andthen,justlikethat,hisclearblueeyessettleoverme,andherisesanotchoutofthatcrowdof

estrogenenoughformetoseehisdimplesdigginginoneithersideofhischeeks,andbothSadieandI

lurchabit.

“He’sspottedyouinthewild!”shesqueals.

Iopenmymouthtoprotesttheidea,butit’stoolate.She’sright,andhe’sheadedthisway.

“OhmyGod!”Sadiedoesaquicktapdanceinherrubyredslippers,andsuddenlyI’mfeelinglike

there’snoplacelikehome.WhydidIthinkshowingupatStarryNightswasagoodidea,again?“He’s

comingover!He’spartingtheseaofredheadedskanks,andhe’scomingtoseeyou!OhmyGod,thisisso

exciting!Andtothink,allthosegirlshavewaitedallnighttoseewherehispeniscompasswouldlead

him,andhereit’sbeenpointingtoyouallalong.Ibetthatneedle-dickofhishasbeenpointinghardyour

wayforthelastfiveyears—notthathehasanythingasminuteasaneedle-dick.It’sjustaplayon—”

“Igetit!”Igiveheraquickswatoverthearm,butohmyGod…It’sasiftheworldtakeslifedowna

notch,andsuddenlyeverythingisunfoldinginslowmotion.

Jaxson Stade walks steadily toward me with that cocky grin curling up his lips, those dangerous

sapphireeyesfixedovermine,holdingmehostagerightwhereIam,helplesstodoanythingbutwaitfor

himtoclosethedistancebetweenus.Hisflannelissplitopendownthefront,revealingawhiteT-shirt

stretchingtautoverhischest,thecontoursofwhichdemandthatthecottonadheretoeverysculptedridge.

Damn,thatboyissexyashell.AbreathgetslockedinmythroatasheswoopsinsocloseI’dswearthose

lipswerecominginforthekillfarearlierthanmidnight.

“PoppyMontgomery.”Hepullsmeintoatightembrace,hisheavychestpressestomineasItakein

the spiced scent of his thick cologne. Those strong, heavy arms, those thick fingers pressing into me,

evokeachokingsighfromme.ItrytotellmyselfthatI’mnotinterestedinhisbasicbadboypersonaand

those basic unearthly good looks. That the fact I’m shuddering from a spontaneous orgasm is just an

aftereffectfromtheratherprolongeddryspellI’mcurrentlyenduring,butJax’sstarksexappealdemands

Itellthetruth.Hisheart-stoppinglooks,thosecobaltbedroomeyes,coupledwiththefacthisrock-hard

girthispressedtightagainstme,havemybodyquiveringinalltherightplaces.

“JaxsonStade.”Itrytosoundequallyasjovial,butitcomesoutmoreofawhimperafteralongwild

romp.SomethingI’msurehe’saccustomedto—boththewhimperandthelongwildromp.

Hepullsback,hisarmsslippingdowntowardmywaist,andoureyeslockamoment,andthereitis—

thatunspokensecretwehavelingeringbetweenthetwoofusaboutaswelcomeasheadlice,butneither

ofusiswillingtogiveintoit.

“Goodtoseeyou.”Hisfingerspressinovermyarmsjustenough,andapartofmewondersifthat’s

sexualcodeforlet’shitthesheetslater. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn that he and his hussies

have established their own perverted language through a series of clicks and whistles. “I hear you’re

killingitinL.A.”Hewincesalittlewhenhesaysitasifitpainedhimonsomelevel.“Ialwaysknewyou

would.”Heoffersacongratulatorytaptomybackbeforetakingastepaway,hisarmshangingawkwardly

athissideasifthatwerethelastplacetheywantedtobe.

“Ofcourse,I’mkillingit.”Iamsonotkillingit.Unless,ofcourse,youcategorizefetchingcoffeeand

flaggingdownUberdriversasasuccess.Inthatcase,Iamtotallykillingit.IavertmyeyestoSadie.My

littleblondenymphofafriendistheonlyoneI’vedivulgedthetruthtosofar.IwastooafraidifItold

Mack,she’dtellMomwhowouldunderstandablytellDadandthey’dbothvetomyveryadultdecisionto

stayontheWestCoastsansfriendsandfamilyasIventuredailytothebeachforasandnap.Thehorrible

truthis,Irecentlyquitmyjob.Assoonasmybossmadeitclearhewantedmeonthemattressmorethan

hewantedmedecoratingthemattress,ItoldhimhecouldbendoverandsuckhisownfatdickbecauseI

wasn’tabouttodoit.Ibelievehispartingwordstomewereyou’llneverdecorateinthistownagain!

Andtruetohispropheticutterings,I’veyettofindafirmthatwilltakeme.Iputoutthefeelersfarand

wide,andI’mstillhopingagainsthopeIcomeupwithsomethingfastbecausemybankaccountisrunning

on fumes and my roommate already has a pair of Russian twins in the wings who make a steady living

downonHollywoodBoulevarddressedasWonderWomanandSupergirlreadytoreplaceme.

“Andnowyou’rekillingme.”Jaxstepsbackenoughtotakeintherestofme.“BringingL.A.backto

OakGrove,Isee.”Heshakeshisheadatmyensembleofchoice.“Theboysbetterwatchout.”Hetipshis

cockyyetimpossiblygorgeousheadmyway.Thosedazzlingeyesofhislatchontomineonceagain.“So

you’rehereforthebigbirthdayslashannouncement,Itakeit.”Hislipstwitchasifhe’sholdingbacka

laugh,andthethoughtofJaxhavingagoodchuckleatmyexpenseenragesme.I’msurehe’sbeenlaughing

at me all along. I can’t shake the feeling he sees through my façade, right down to the dirty glorified

Starbucks’ssecretarydetails.

“Exactly that.” I swallow hard. It’s only partially a lie. Yes, our mothers are set to announce

something they promise will knock our socks off in just a few short weeks at their shared sixty is

sensationalbirthdaybash,butI’malsohopingtoscoreasmallpersonalloanfrommyfatherthatwillget

methroughthespring.

“Mmm.”Hegivesaquickmoanwhiledrinkingdownmyfeaturesasifhehadn’tseenthemonetoo

manytimesalready.Butthere’ssomethingabouthearingthatmoan—watchingthewayhislefteyecame

just shy of winking as if he were indulging in something far too delicious for words sends my thighs

tremblingonceagain.InthefiveyearssinceI’veseenhim,he’sgrownintoafull-blownman.Hischest

hasfilledout,hisfaceisthatmuchmorecomelier,andthoselips,thosecutthroatdeepflameblueeyes—

GodAlmighty,someonecallthefiredepartment.Thisboyhassetmypantiesonfire.

JustasI’mabouttotellhimtostopwiththewakingwetdream,Mackshowsupwithatrayfullof

shotsthatpromisetotakethisnightfromtolerabletomemorable.

“JaxyJax!”Mackenziesquawkswithdelightasshenodsustothetablejustafewstepsaway.“This

isperfect.Nowwecanfinallydiscussthatfabuloussixtyfiascoandhowwe’regoingtoshowupthose

highjinksheroinesonceandforall.”

“Prankthepranksters?”Sadiewinces.“Andriskenduringtheirformidablewrathforyearstocome?

Countmein—butI’mwatchingfromthesidelines.”

JaxandIexchangeabriefglance.

“Lordknowswehavemorethanenoughreasonstoexactrevenge.”Ipickupmytinyglassandtoast

mysister.“ButSadieisright.They’llcomeatustentimesharder.Eachtimewe’vetriedtomalignthe

mavensofmischief,we’veendeduponthewrongsideofaveryhumiliatingactoffoulplay.”

Jax scoots his seat in, and his knee brushes against mine for a moment. “Don’t tell me you fear a

coupleofmiddle-agedwomen—andIsaythatasafact,notaputdown—whohavemadesurethatevery

highlightofyourjuvenileyearswasnotonlyrecordedbutastoxicallydegradingascanbe?”

I’dcallhimoutonhisuseofthewordtoxic,butithappenstobetrue.Ifanything,CharandDebtake

toxictoawholenewlevel.

“Ofcourse,Ifearthem,and,ifyouwerewise,youwould,too.Faceit,there’snooneelseonthisside

ofthecontinentaldividewhocanstrikethefearofpaybackinyouthewaytheycan.Besides,whatprank

would even be worthy to take on the divas of damaged psyches? Let’s be realistic. Those old gals are

twisted, and I shudder to think what their devious minds might conjure up in the name of retribution.”

AlthoughitwouldbefuntowatchJax,thecasualbillionaireboy,squirmasalittlegoodold-fashioned

recompenseisdoledoutviahismadmavenofamama.

Hisbedroomeyeswincemywayasheleansin.“Whyareyougrinningatmethatway?”

“Ithoughtyouwereusedtowomenfallingalloveryouwithagreasysmile.”

“Iam.”Hiskneegazesovermineonceagain.“Andusuallywhenthey’rebearingtheirfangs,they’re

gettingreadytobite.Seeanythingyou’dliketosinkyourteethinto?”

“Down,boy,”I’mquicktoreprimand.

“Notsofast,Pops.”Sadiegetsthatsquirrelylookinhereyes.“Iwouldn’tbesoquicktodismissa

goodnaughtyinvite.”

Mack pushes Sadie aside. “Down, girl.” She opens her mouth to say something else, but all that

managestoekeoutisasmallchokingsound.Shedrawsanotherbreathandgasps.“Ohmyword!Youdid

it,Sadie!”

“Idid?”Shescootsmywayanotch,intheeventtheFireballmysisterjustimbibedhasinspiredher

totestoutheruppercutonmysweetpixiefriend.

“Yes!Youjustgavemethebrainstormofthecentury.”Mack’seyesswirllikepinwheels.“I’vegotthe

ultimateprankwecanpullonthosemischievousmavensastheygetreadytoturnasexysixty.”

“Give it to me,” Jax says while looking at my sister, but his knee rubs over my own, warm and

lingering,andIcan’thelpbutthinkhe’sthrowingoutthepervertedinviteonceagain.Somethingtellsme

Jaxisn’tonetohearnoveryoften,andthethoughtofsendinghimhomewithoutavaginalpockettoplace

hispenisbringsadarksmiletomyface.

“The two of you”—Mack slides a shot of liquid gold to both Jax and me—“are going to pull the

ultimateprankonourmothers.”

I avert my eyes at the thought. “Well played, Mack. So when the ax falls, you’ll be safely on the

sidelineswithSadie.Right.There’snowayI’mpullinganythingonthosetwobeady-eyedbiddies,unless

youenlistyourselfalongwithJulesandKali,too.”JulesandKaliareJaxson’ssisters—oneolder,one

younger,bothfarmoreaffable.

Mackbouncesinherseat,giddywithexcitement.“Nocando.WhatIhaveplannedonlythetwoof

youcanpulloff.”

Sadie knocks back her drink and slams the shot glass to the table. “Don’t keep us in suspense.

Midnightisnearing—andI’vegotaloosesetoflipstowrangleup.”

“Okay.” Mackenzie closes her eyes a moment as if summoning all her strength for the effort. “You

knowhowMomandDebhavebeenafterthetwoofyoutogettogethereversinceyouwereinthewomb?

Well,Isaygivethemwhattheywant.”Atinydimpleinherleftcheekdigsinassheindulgesinaself-

gratifyingsmile.

“I don’t get it.” I look to Jaxson, who seems to be warming to the idea, wetting his lips, chest

expandinglikeasexed-upbaboon.“Oh,wait”—Isitupstraight—“youdon’tmean…”

“Yes.”Mackclaspsmyhandstight.“Thetwoofyoupretendtobeknock-down,drag-outheadover

heelsinlove.Andthen,oncetheirsixtiethbirthdaybashslashhugeannouncementsettlesdown,youlayit

onthem—whamo!”Sheslapsbothhandsdownonthetablesohard,halfthebarturnstoseeifshotswere

fired.

“That’scruel,Mackenzie.”I’mthefirsttoprotest.“That’sheartless.”That’sbrilliantiswhatitis.

“It’saheartstopper,”Jaxaddsinthatlowoctavethatmakesmygirlpartsbounceoncue.DearGod,

thismanisahormonalweaponofmassdestruction.

“It will kill them.” Now it’s my knee rubbing up against his. Take that, Mister Women-in-My-

Presence-Don’t-Require-Personal-Space.

“Itwillkillthem.”Jaxbearsthoseluminescenteyesintomine,andI’mprisonertohishauntinggood

looks. It’s not fair. The universe knows I’m a sucker for black hair and blue eyes, those dimples that I

actuallyoncestuckmyfingerinwhileJaxsondidhisbestimpersonationofanelectricalsocket.Iusedto

getthirstyforatallglassofwaterjustlookingathiseyes,andnowI’mjustthirstyforhim.

Sadieclearsherthroat,butneitherJaxnorIamwillingtobreakourstare.“Youcanalwaysletthem

downeasy.Haven’ttheyearnedsomethingjustthissideofheartstopping?Imean—showingupatprom?

Thatwasprettybrutal.Andthetimetheyheldasurprisebirthdaypartyforyou,Pops—andyettheinvites

theysentoutwereactuallytoyourfauxengagement party? Remember the lines at the return counter? I

waswithyou.Itwasbrutal.”

“Iforgotallaboutthat.”Myentirebodyburnswithsomethingjustthissideofangerasasenseofself-

righteousrevengepercolatesinmeanew.“Iwasthirteenforshit’ssake!”

Jaxtapsthetablewithadeadlookinhiseyes.“Mymothermademepickoutaring.”

“Theydeserveit.”Mackinchesthoseshotglassestowardthetwoofus,andJaxandIeachglomonto

ourown.

“Theydeserveit.”Heliftshisglassasiftoastingtheidea.

“Theydeserveit.”Itouchmyglasstohis,thenMack’sandSadie’s.

“Tolove!”Mackraiseshersuspiciouslyemptyglassalittlehigher,andwedothesame.

“Tolove,”wecryoutasagroup.

Mack is quick to excuse herself, citing the fact she needs to check on Dave and the kids before

disappearing.Sadieoutrightblowsusakissbeforetrottingofftothedeependofthebarwherethere’s

enoughtestosteroneandcolognetodrownin.

Jaxson Stade brazenly runs his knee over mine with those oven-heated eyes searing me from the

inside.“Youinthis,EightBall?”

Eightball.Nowthere’sablastfromthepast.Jaxthoughtupthatpool-basedmonikerafterIinsisted

thattheeightballwasdemonicandweshouldbanishbilliardgamesfromourafter-schoolrepertoire.In

mydefense,Iwasseven,andhewentrightalongwithituntilhisfatheralmosttorehimanewonefor

falling for something so idiotic. Jax actually had a great father whom he lost just as we were about to

leaveforcollege.AndasfarasIknow,it’sstillaprettysoresubject,soIdon’tdarecontesthimonthe

sillynamejustyet.

“That’s right, Gordo.” A cheesy grin glides over my face. Jax was Gordo to my Lizzy aka Lizzy

McGuire—theshowIenjoyedbestduringmystoriedchildhoodwiththispanty-droppingpranksterseated

beforeme.Thosewerethegoodolddays.Ihavenoideawherethey’vegone.

Jaxholdsouthishand,andIplacemypalmoverhisandwereinitiateouroncesecrethandshake,two

pats,afirmshake,andaknucklebump.That’swhatbestfriendsdo.Theyhavegreatmonikersthatoutlast

collegiatelifeandsecrethandshakesthatimbedthemselvesintoourmusclememory.Hishandisthicker,

strongerthanIrememberit.EverythingaboutJaxsonStadeisfarmoreheart-stoppinglymasculinethanI

everremember.

“It’sgoodtohaveyouback,Poppy.”Somethingjustthissideoffatigueislayeredinthatlookhegives

me.It’sprobablyclosertoregretorresentment.

“Youdon’thavetofakeitwithme,Jaxson.Youhatethis.I’mthelastpersonontheplanetyouwantto

evenpretendtolike.”Igrowloverathimwithoutmeaningto.“Don’tworry.Assoonasourbigrevealis

through,IplanonbeingonthenextplanebacktoL.A.”

Thebandstopsplaying,andtheleadsingerstartsinontheNewYear’scountdownascouplesscurry

togethertogettheirmidnightmolestationsunderway.

“Nowgoaheadandgetbacktothatboobparadeyou’rethegrandmarshalof,”Isnip.“I’dhateforany

ofyourbodilymemberstomissoutontheirshiningmoment.”

Andwiththat,Iheadbackintotheicynight,slippingallthewaytomymother’sloanerinmythousand

dollarL.A.Louboutinsandfreezinginmyflimsyleatherjacket.

Ishiverallthewaybackhome,wonderingjustwhatinthehellI’vegottenmyselfinto.

JAXSON

oppyMontgomery.

Nowthere’sanamethatneverleavesmyconscious—butthatface,thosehotfulllipsIwouldloveto

take a bite out of, they never seem to leave my dreams. It’s one thing to think about her, but another

altogethertohaveherhereintheflesh.Herbeatingheartwasjustasecondawayfromminelastnight.I

didn’twanthertoleavelikethat,butitseemslikemyentirelifeI’vehadtheabilitytochaseheraway.It

wasn’t always that way—somewhere around sophomore year I turned scaring Poppy away into an

unintentionalartform.WishtohellIknewwhatIdidwrong.Irackmybraintryingtofigurethatoutevery

damnday.

“Penny for your thoughts.” My mother comes up beside me as I stare out the window at the

constructioncrewworkingbusilyawayonthisthefirstdayofthenewyear.Ididn’thangoutafterPoppy

leftlastnight.Infact,Ifollowedherhome,justtomakesureshegottheresafe.Ihungbackfarenoughfor

hernottonotice.I’mnotsureshewouldcareifIdid.I’mnotsurewhyIcare.I’veneverbeenhatedso

muchbyanyonethewaythatgirlhatesme.NotthatIdidn’tsecretlyenjoyeverymomentwe’veeverspent

together.Imadeallofherrageworthherwhile.HalfthethingsIdidinmylifeweremeanttoinfuriate

thatgirl.

“It’llcostyouabillion,”IteaseasIsighatthesight.“Contractorsaystwomoremonths.Youthink

youcanhandlemymanstinkforthatlong?”

Momtipsherheadatmeinthewayonlymomscandowhenthey’relookingatyoufromundertheir

lashes. For the most part, she’s a shorter, far more feminine version of myself, and I’ve always been

proud to take after her in more ways than one. She’s a strong woman. Full of fight with a feisty heart.

“Onlyifyouthrowthatstinkintheshowereverynowandagain.”

“Willdo.”Iruffleupherhair.

Thepropertymymotherownsismoreorlessacompoundspreadoverthreehundredacres.ThedayI

turnedeighteenImovedintotheguesthouseaboutastone’sthrowfromthemainhouse.Myfatherdiedjust

prior to that, and I knew I didn’t want to leave a house full of my favorite women all alone in the

countryside.

Myoldersister,Jules,wasdatingatthetime,andKaliwasstillinmiddleschool.AndnowthatJules

isnewlydivorced—theassholewhothoughtitwasagreatideatomarryandknockherupleftherwitha

two-year-oldboywhomI’vebecomeasurrogatefatherto,Icouldn’tleavetoomuchfarther.I’vegiven

theguesthousetoJulesandmysweetnephewJensenwhileI’vebuilt—amintheprocessofbuilding, a

newhomeformyselfjustaboutahalfmiledowntheroad.KaliisstillinthehousewithMom,andIthink

everyoneishappywiththisnewarrangement.

Momgivesalittlechuckle.“WordonthemeanstreetsofOakGroveisthatPoppyMontgomeryflew

inonherbroomsticklastnight.”Shegivesalittlewinkwhilestirringhercoffee.Iknowthatbroomstick

quipwasmeanttorilemeupmorethanitwasaninsulttowardPops.MomlovesPoppyasifshewere

herown.“Charleneinvitedustodinnertonighttowelcomeherback.HowmanystocksofStadeSteeldo

Ihavetobribeyouwithtomakesureyoushowupforthatgoodtime?”

Myheartgivesanunnaturalthump.Hereitis—showtimecreptuponmeahellofalotsoonerthanI

expected.“Ofcourse,I’llbethere.AndyouknowthatbigannouncementyouandCharhavehappeningin

justafewweeks?”

Momjogsinplace,nearlyspillinghercoffeeasshegetsworkeduplikeagiddyschoolgirl.Hereyes

burnbrightasblueflames.MyfatherusedtosayIhavemymother’seyes,andthat’ssomethingIdon’t

mindatall.Ihappentothinkmymotherisbeautifulbothinsideandout,nomatterhowcertifiableshe’s

proventobeovertheyears.

“I’vegotalittleannouncementmyselfI’llbemakingtonight.”IgiveaquickkisstohercheekasItake

off.

“Waitaminute!”shecallsafterme.“Anannouncement?YouknowI’mnogoodwithsuspense!Ican’t

waituntiltonight!”

AdarklaughpulsesthroughmeasIheadoutintotheicyair,thesnowbillowinginmoundsalongside

the driveway. I start in on a sprint as I go to track down Kali and Jules at the guesthouse. I don’t think

either of my sisters will care that I’ll be dating—or in the least pretending to date Poppy. Jules might

flinch,butshe’llgetoverit.There’sonlyonepersonwhomIthinkmightdoalittlemorethanflinch,and

that person is Conner Montgomery. He’s been like the brother I’ve never had, still is. I see him every

damndayeversinceIhiredhimasheadoflegalatStadeSteel.

No,Connerwillnotappreciatemeanywherenearhisbabysister.That’stoobadforConnerbecause

we’reallgrownupnow,andI’mdonelisteningtoanythinghehastosayonthematter.

Ishouldhaveneverlistenedtobeginwith.

GUESTHOUSE

QUAINT

,whichisanicewayofsayingsmallashell,butImadeitworkforeightlong

years.Andmuchtomysister’scredit,shehasmanagedtostripthistinyabodeofanysignsthatagrown

man ever lived in it. Instead, she’s turned it into a shabby chic disaster that any thirteen-year-old girl

woulddiefor.

Jensen runs over and whacks me on the knee with his toy fire truck that lights up and shrills an

obnoxious howl in my ear. He’s redheaded and freckled and cute as a bug, and at the same time a

doppelgangerofthefatherwholefthim.

“Hey,buddy,whydon’tyoushowmehowtoworktheTV?”

“Iknowsdat!”Thelookofpersistenceinhiseyesgetsme,andItuckaquickkisstothetopofhis

head.“IcandoitforMommy!”Hetakesoffforthesofa,andInodforKaliandJulestojoinmeatthe

table.Mysistersallsharemymother’sfeatures,samedarkhair,samesirenblueeyes.There’sasayingin

OakGrovethattheStadesarealldimpledlookalikes.It’sfairtosaythey’reright.

“What’sup?”JulesplucksKali’sphoneoutfromherhand,andnowthey’rebothfrowningoveratme.

JustasI’mabouttofilltheminonmylatest,possiblygreatestdeception,afistgrowsinmythroat,and

Ican’tseemtopushthewordsout.There’ssomethingabouthavingthisfalserelationshipwithPoppyof

all people that seems to have struck a nerve. I couldn’t get her out of my head last night. Not that it’s

anythingnew,butthistimetherewasagenuinelevelofheartachebehindit.PoppyandIarefragile.We

havebeenforsolong.I’mnotsurewhatthiswilldotous.Onethingisforsure—it’sgoingtogetmessy.

“Whatisit?”Kali’seyeswiden,largeaswindowsthatletyoupeerrightintohersweetsoul.

“It’s a surprise.” There. It’s about all I can manage at the moment. “I’m making an announcement

tonightattheMontgomery’s.I’llneedbothofyouthere.”Icouldn’ttellthemthetruth.IfMomgetsawhiff

ofthisbeingaruse,shemightbreakthemfortheinfo,andI’dhatetoputtheminthatposition.

“You’llbeattheMontgomery’s?”Jules’sfacetemperstorepulsion.JulesiswellawarethatPoppy

brokemyheart.IronicsincePoppyisyettobeletinonthatfact.“YoudorealizethatPoppyisintown.”

The look on Jules’s face is priceless. You would think having Poppy Montgomery in my life is the

equivalentofheadlice.Julestipsherchindown,herexpressionsternasshit.“Isitaboutthecompany?”

Eversincethatclownshewasmarriedtotookoff,she’sseentheworldthroughcrapcoveredglasses.

It’sasifshe’sjustwaitingfortheothershoetodrop.Notthatherlifewilleverbehard.Ourgrandfather

ensuredthatverythingoncehefoundedStadeSteel.Nope.Foreverthethreeofuswillbewelltakencare

offarbeyondanymaterialwealthmostoftheworldwilleverknow.Ithinkthat’swhywestrivetobe

close,tokeepthelinesofcommunicationopen,andtonever,everlietooneanother—likeI’mdoingnow.

“It’snotaboutthecompany.”

Kalihuffsaquicklaugh.“Thishastodowithher,doesn’tit?”Herfacebrightenswiththequestionas

ifcallingmeoutonmybullshit.

Kaliwasatthebarlastnightalongwiththatkidshehangsoutwithtwenty-fourseven,Cole—andso

helphimGodifheoffendsherwithasimplewink.Idon’thaveaveryhightolerancetowardpeopleof

the opposite gender treating either of my sisters poorly. I’m still in the process of making Ron’s life a

livingnightmare for leavingJules and Jensen—butat the moment, Iappreciate him outof their lives. It

makesroomforpeace,forme,forourfamilytogrowtighterasaunit.Aftermyfatherdied,Ibecamethe

manofthefamilyandthat’sexactlywhoIplanonbeinguntilmydyingday.

“Well?”Kali’seyesbugout.“Iknewit.Isawthewayyoutwoweresittingatthattablelastnight.

Andthewayyoubothleftataboutthesametime.Eww!Didyoubringhertoyourroomandscrewher?”

Juleschokesoutalaugh.“IbetifyouwokeMomup,shewouldhavecheeredfromthesidelines.”

Assickandtwistedasthatsounds,Iknowit’strue.

Julessoursasifoncue.“Don’ttellmeyouandthathussyhavesomethinghappeningbetweenyou.She

treatedyoulikelessthandirtforthebetterhalfofyourlife.I’mnotgoingtolethertakeadvantageofyou

thatway.Andifshe’ssuddenlyyourbestfriendagainafteralltheseyears,Ican’thelpbutwonderifit’s

someStadeSteelgreenshe’safter.”

Poppyisn’tagolddigger,butasmuchasIwanttodefendher,it’llonlyrileJulesup.Julescanbe

rabidoncesheglomsontoasubject.Getherlatheredupinaheap,andthere’snolettinggoofitonher

part.AndthelastthingIwanthershreddingtopiecesisPoppy.

“You’llhavetowaitandseelikeeverybodyelse.DinnertonightattheMontgomery’s.It’sgoingtobe

amemorablenight.”

“Ibet.”Kalikicksmefromunderthetableasifshe’salreadyenjoyingtheprospectofPoppyandme

toughingitout.NotthatthethoughtofbeingwithPopswouldbetoughonanylevel.Imissher.Theold

Poppy,EightBalltobeexact.Imisstheoldus.Imissmyfatherbeinghereandourmotherscolludingto

getustogether.Imissalotofthings.Butthisnewversionofwhatwe’vebecomeisonethingIcando

without.

JensencrashesintomyarmsasJulessnortsoutalaugh.“Iwouldn’tmisstonightfortheworld.”Jules

shakesherheadatme,hereyesalreadybothdisappointedandcuriousastowhyI’deverkeepasecret

fromher.“Whathaveyougottenyourselfinto,Jaxson?”

“Waitandsee.”IturnJensenintoanairplanefortherestoftheafternoon.Icouldlistentohislaughter

alldaylong,andIdojustthatuntilit’stimefordinnerwithagirlIneverthoughtI’dseeagain.

PoppyandIareabouttokillit.

It’sshowtime.

PUT

SUIT

.Itakeoffasuit.Iputonmyfavoritejeans.Itakethemoff.Itaketwohotshowers,brush

my teeth ten times, and practically down the mouthwash. How far are we going to take this? Why isn’t

Poppyreturninganyofmytextmessages?Wasthisallsomebigprankonme?Thethoughthascrossedmy

mindaboutadozentimesthisafternoon.Poppyhasalwaysbeenupfortossingagoodjabmyway.There

weren’ttoomanyoccasionsthatIescapedthatrazor-sharptongueofhers.

Adullsmilecomesandgoes.I’dlovetotamethatlittleshrew.AndasmuchasIusedtopretendI

hatedouracidcoatedbanter,Isecretlylovedeverybarb-wiredminute.

Ioptforthebutton-downshirt,twillblazer,andapairofcordsI’veexcavatedfromthedustyendof

myoldcloset.It’sstrangebeingbackinmychildhoodbedroom.Ofcourse,Icouldleave,stayatahotel,

not that there is a plethora of choices in Oak Grove. But Denver is certainly an option. I can run the

companyfromasatelliteofficeforaslongasIlike—hell,Iownthecompany.Icanuprootmyofficeany

damndayIplease,butIchoosetoleaveitbeeachandeverytime.

My mother and sisters drive down to the Montgomery’s first. I pull in last, not so much to make an

entrance,butbecauseforthefirsttimeinaslongasIcanremember,I’mnervousashell.

The minute Poppy Montgomery walked into that bar looking hot as liquid steel, her tiny body

squeezedintothosejeans,thatleatherjacketthatscreamedletmetieyouupandteachyoualessonor

two—andIwouldwelcomePoppytyingmeup,althoughIhaveafeelingshe’sgoingtoteachmealesson

ortworegardless—IknewIwasinforarideIwouldnotforget.Poppywassmokinghot,andIwanted

nothingelsebuttostompmywayoverandtossherontothenearesttableandtakeherlikeabeast.Imay

beknownformyrevolvingdoorofbedmates—althoughtherehavebeenfarfewerthanpublicperception

hasbeenrumoredtobelieve—butinmysparetime,duringeverylonelynightit’sPoppyIgotobedwith.

Beforethegreatfallthatspelledoutourdemise,PoppywastheclosestIhadevergottentoanother

human being. Since then, there have been plenty of girls, but not one of them has even compared to the

intimacyPoppyandIonceshared.Ironic,sinceIneverknewPoppyinacarnalsense.Andapartofme

wonders,hopesagainsthope,thatourrelationshipmighttakeaturnforthecarnal.Butthetruthis,with

Poppy,I’dwantsomethingfarmorethanthat.I’dwanteverythingwehadbackinspades,andthensome.

TheMontgomeryhomeisstatelyinahumble,suburbancountryhousesortofway.Theyliveagood

tenmilesfromus,butasthecrowfliesyoucouldcutacrossthewoodsandcrossourpropertyandendup

ontheirs.

IspotFrasierMontgomeryontheporchswillingahighballinhishand,whiskeyovericewithseltzer

tofinishitoff,justthewaymydadusedtodrinkit.MuchlikeCharleneandmymother,Frasierandmy

dadwerethebestoffriends.Waybackwhen,myfatherofferedFrasierapositionatthesteelmillthat

would have set the Montgomerys up with a nice nest egg, stock options, mega retirement payout, but

Frasierwastooproudtotakeit,andretiredrecentlyfromtheinsurancejobheheldforamajorityofhis

life.

“Well,ifitisn’ttheprinceofpeace.”Heoffersmeaquickslaptothebackasweheadonin.

“That’sonenicknameIdon’tthinkI’veeverbeencalled.”Ilaughatthethought.

“Areyoukidding?You’vebeenasquietasaghost.Idon’tthinkI’veseenyouatthisendoftownin

thelastfiveyears.”It’strue.ForascloseasmymotheristotheMontgomerys,Ineverseemtoventure

over.

Connerisinmylifeonadailybasis,andthat’salwaysbeenenoughMontgomeryforme.Mystomach

clenchesatthelie.Yes,Connerhasbeenaroundforme,butI’vealwayscravedalittlemoreMontgomery.

I’vecravedPoppy.She’saddictive,thekindofpersonpeoplenaturallymagnetizeto,andnotalwaysfor

therightreasons.She’sashowifanything.

Five years. It’s been five long years since Poppy left for L.A. and this house became a painful

reminderofeverythingthattranspiredbetweenus.

“That’s right,” I muse as I take in the familiar foyer. “But I’m haunting the place tonight,” I say,

duckingintowhatamountstoatimewarp.TheMontgomeryhomeislightandbright,whitewalls,painted

woodenfloors,aclusteroffamilyphotosonallofthewalls.Everyfreesurfaceisadornedwithframes

filledwithpicturesthatIrememberseeingasachild.Ifit’sonethingCharleneMontgomeryisgoodat,

it’sholdingontothepast.Andironically,ifit’sonethingPoppyMontgomeryisgoodat,it’sforgettingit

everexisted.

IglanceintothelivingroomandspotPoppywithSadie,andbehindthemJulesandKalimillaround

with Conner. But Poppy. She’s stunning in red. Her hair is long and wild, and the unruly beast in me

demandstotwistitaroundmywristsasImakehermine.

“JaxsonStade?”Charshoutssoloudthateveryonebehindherstopsallmovementandturnsmyway.

“Lookwhodecidedtocometodinner!”Sheglancestomymother,shockedashell.It’sclearthatMom

heldoutonherasshebarrelsonover,squeezingmycheeksasifIwerethree-years-oldalloveragain.

“MyGod!DidyouknowthatPoppyisheretonight,too?It’sarealMontgomery-Stadereunionwithallof

theimportantmembersfrontandcenter!”

Myeyessnagonapictureofmyfatherjustoverhershoulder.It’sthepicturewetookasafamily—the

lastone—atLawsoncreekafterKalicaughtatrout.It’shardtobelievethatfamilyasIonceknewitis

doneandintherecordbooks.

Iwanttocorrectawell-meaningChar,thatno,notalloftheimportantmembersarefrontandcenter

tonight.

Poppyappearsbesidehermotherwearingagrinandnotmuchelse.Holyhell,thatdress,thatbody,

thoseeyesthathavealwaysseemedtoseerightthroughme.

Mymouthopens,butforthelifeofmeIcan’tfigureoutwhatcomesnext.

“Ithinkdinnerisgettingcold,”Poppyoffers,andbothourmothersbusythemselvesusheringeveryone

to the table. And just like that, here we are, alone, just Poppy and me, a deception at the ready that

involvesthetwoofusinwaysIusedtodreamabout.

Poppystepsinclose,herperfumepoursovermelikeafinewine,andIwouldgiveanythingtodrink

thisgirldownrightnow.

Damn,shesmellsgood,intoxicating.Andthosevelveteyes.HowI’vemissedthem.IthoughtIknew

howmuch,buthavingherherenexttome,thewarmthofherbodyexudingtowardminemakesmeachein

thedeepestpartofmyheart.

“So—areyoustillupforofferingthosetwothescareofalifetime?”Shewrinkleshernose,andIfight

thedirtygrindyingtotakeover.

“I’llsayitagain.I’min.”Ileanin,toweringoverherlikesomesexistoaf.“Wheredowedrawthe

line?”Everythinginmewantstotraceoutherlipswithmyfinger.I’ddiehappyjusttotraceoutherbody

withmyhands.

Sheswallowshard.Herbreathingpicksup,buthereyesarestillsecuredtomine.“I’minittowinit,

Gordo.Dowhateveryouhavetodotomakethisbelievable.It’sonlythedeependthatmatters,right?”

Asmalllaughgetsburiedinmychest.That’sasayingwecameupwithshortlyafterwebothmastered

thefineartofswimming.Ananalogyforthehardpartofthingsthatweneededtoconquer.Itwasonlythe

deependthatmatteredinmostthings.PoppyandIsharedsomanyfirststogether,it’stouchingwhenyou

thinkaboutit.Butwesharedthebitterfirsts,too,whenthingsbegantogosouth.

“Thisisthedeepend,Pop.Ifyouneedaboostoutofthepool—”

Her affect flattens from an opened mouthed smile to a stern, I-might-just-kick-your-ass frown. “I

won’tneedaboost,Stade.”Thefactshejustinvokedmylastnameisnotagoodsign.Anyinvokingofthe

lastnamebyeitherpartywasaclearsignalsomeonewasdamnpissed.“I’mgoingtoputonashowout

there, and I suggest you do the same. This is no-holds-barred. Now, grow some hair on your balls and

let’shavethemeatingoutofourwickedpalmsbytheendofthisnight,gotit?”

A dark laugh rumbles in my chest, but I won’t give it. “I got it. You realize this might kill your

brother.”

“You realize my brother might kill you.” There’s a touch of a smile when she says it, and now I’m

wonderingifthat’sbeentheplanallalong.

“Touché.”Itouchmythumbtohercheek,justshyofherlips,andshetwistsintoitasifbeggingmeto

touchhermouth.“We’regoingtomakethislookliketherealdeal.YouandIaregoingtodate,EightBall

—andyou’regoingtolikeit.”

Anddeepdown,sothehellamI.

IfPoppywantsashow,that’sexactlywhatshe’llget.I’lldealwithConnerlater.

DinnergoesoffwithoutahiccupwithPoppyseatedrightnexttomeasifitwereanaturaloccurrence

andnotsomethingmorealongthelinesofasolareclipse,oracometthatshootsbyOakGroveforahot

L.A.minute.

Connerkeepsmebusywithtalkofsports,theoffice,thegirlhetookhomelastnight.MomandChar

yakupastormabouttheirfavoritethings,themselves,theirfriendship,theirblog,theirbigsixtiethbash

comingupinafewweeks,and,ofcourse,theirsecretiveannouncementthathashaduscuriousforovera

monthnow.Mostlikelysomenewrecipethattheybelievewillbegroundbreakingintheculinaryworld

thatexistsoutsideofOakGrove,orsomenewstunttheirsixty-year-oldtwistedmindsthinkisprettynifty

andwillmostlikelycauseunendinghumiliationtowhomeverthey’vepeggedastheirvictim.

“Speakingofannouncements.”Momtipsherheadmyway,herblueeyesfilledwithcuriosity.“You

mentionedyouhadsomethingveryspecialyouwantedtosharewithusthisevening.”Hereyesenlarge

withoutstopping,andforaminuteI’mconvincedthey’lltakeoverherhead.

“Oh?” Charlene is seemingly perplexed by this. “Poppy mentioned she had something she could

hardlywaittogetoffherchestaswell.Isn’tthisaninterestingturnofevents?”Shestrumsherapplered

nailsoverthetable.

“That’sright.”Poppystandsandsmacksmyarmformetodothesame.Herchestpulsatesinandout

asshepantsupastorm,andforabriefmomentIenvisionherontopofme,thosesweettitsthathavebeen

staringmeinthefaceallnightdrippingintomymouthlikehoney.Thethoughtalonemakesmefeelguilty

forcarryingonanentireconversationwithConnerwhilethinkingaboutlickinghissister’sbodyinallthe

rightplaces.“There’ssomethingI’vebeenkeepingfromyou.”Shepicksupmyhand,andanaudiblegasp

circles the room. My own mother’s jaw roots to the hardwood floor. “Something we’ve both been

keepingfromyou.”

MomsucksinahardbreathasdoespoorCharlene,thetwoofthemwiththeirhandspressedagainst

theirchests.Ifthisgoesovertoowell,wejustmighthaveadoublefuneraltoplan.

Connerclearshisthroat,hisarmscrossedoverhischestasiftoprotestwhateverisabouttoflyfrom

hermouth.

Julesslapsahanddownoverthetableinprotest,andpoorJensenlooksupfromthekiddietableat

me.MyheartbreaksbecauseIneverwantedtolietoanyofthem.ButI’mhere,andPoppyMontgomeryis

holdingmyhand,andforamoment,everythingseemsrightwiththeworld.Itwouldn’tsurprisemeinthe

least to see Dalton Stade, my own dead father, walk right through those doors. This is a night of

impossibilities, and surely that would be the biggest one of all—outside of this miracle taking place

besideme.Iwanttopinchmyselftoseeifit’sreal.EveryfacethatI’veknownallmylifestaresupatme

inamixtureofhorroranddisbelief—utterdelightinourmothers’eyes,andyetatwingeofdoubtthereas

well.

MymothertossesdownhernapkinwithallofthedramashecandrumuponthiscoldJanuarynight.

“Whatinhell’snameisgoingon?”

IclearmythroatasIlooktoPoppy.She’sfrozen.Herbreathinghasgonefrompantingtohardlytaking

inenoughoxygentokeepheronherfeet.

“Whatwe’retryingtosayis”—IlookintoPoppy’slimegreeneyes,andaswellofreliefcomesover

mebecauseIdon’twanttopretendwithher.Iwanttobelieveit’sso,thateverybitofthisisreal—“the

twoofusaretogethernow.”

Anaudiblegruntcomesfromthemotherloadendofthetable,followedbywhimpersandthefrantic

flailing of limbs as they fan one another in an attempt to keep from passing out. Conner stands for a

momentinprotest,mumblinganindistinguishablethreatbeforefallingbackintohisseat.

“Okay.”Charholdsoutahand.“You’vegotus.Idon’tthinkIcouldtakemuchmore.Thegigisup.It’s

notfunny.”Shewagsherfingerourwayasiftoadmonishusfurther.

Crap.IglancetoPoppy,andhersmiletightensasshesqueezestheshitoutofmyhand,codeforwhat

I’massumingmeansdosomethingrightfuckingnow.

“Nojoke.”IpullPoppy’shandtomylipsandlingeroverhervelvetfleshamomenttoolong.“We’ve

beensecretlyintouchformonthsnow.We’reofficiallyacouple.”HereyeswidenanotchwhenIsayit.

“Andwewantedtoletyouinonourlittlesecret.”

Julesshakesherheadinprotest,butforthemostpartI’vemanagedtosilencethemassesonceagain.

Kalilooksrightatmewiththatthis-is-the-no-bullshit-zonelookonherface.“Isthistrue?”

“Yup.IwentouttoseeherthisChristmas.”

Momgaspsandpointsovertomewithastabbingfinger.“Yousworeyouhadabusinessmeetingin

NewYorkyoucouldn’tgetoutof.”

“Youdid.”ConnershootsasuspiciouslookfromPoppytome.Connermaybeawareofmyschedule,

buthedoesn’thaveaGPStaggedtomybriefcase.

Yes, I did, but that’s beside the point. Poppy didn’t show up for Christmas, so that creates the

possibility.

“IknewifIsaidLosAngelesyou’dputthepiecestogether.”

Mymothershakesherheadasiftherewasn’ttheslightestchanceshecouldhave,andjudgingbythat

shockedashelllookonboththeirfaces,Icantellwe’reofftoadamngreatstart.

“Oh dear. Is this really happening?” Char clutches onto poor Frasier as if everyone in the room is

sufferingamasshallucination.

“It’shappening,”Poppyassures.“Infact,thereasonwe’vedecidedtospringitonyousoquicklyis

because,well,we’vesortofbeenmovingquicklyourselves.”Shestraightens.“Notlikethat,Dad.”The

roombreaksoutintoanervouschuckle,withhersisterbeingtheloudestandConnerbeingthequietest.I

don’tknowwhatMackfindssofunny,consideringthiswasherbrightidea.Imakeamentalnotetosend

herathankyousomewheredowntheroad.

“What she’s trying to say is”—I wrap my arm around Poppy’s tiny waist and pull her in close

—“we’remadly,deeply,crazyinlove.”Igazeintothoselilypadsshecallseyes,thosedeepunknowable

wellsyoucoulddiveinto.“Wedon’twanttokeepourfeelingsasecretanymore.”Ikissthebackofher

handandpullherintightuntilhersofttitsrestovermychest.“Andtryasanyofyoumight,there’snota

thingthatcaneverkeepusapartagain.”

“OhmyGod!”Charswaysinherseat,andIalmostfeelsorryforher.Heck,Ialmostfeelsorryformy

ownmotherwhoseemstobeequallystrugglingtoholdittogether.

Frasier clears his throat, his face still rife with suspicion. “When exactly did the two of you

reconnect?”

“I’dliketoknowthatmyself.”Julesoffersmeahardlookthatsaysmyassisgrassoncewe’realone.

I’veneverkeptmuchfromJules.KaliwasjustakidwhenPoppyandIwentourseparateways,butJules

wassomeoneIcouldtalktoandIdid.Sheknowsjustabouteverything.Justabout.

“I’minlinemyself.”Conneroffersasmuglookmywaythatsaysdespitetheevidencehe’sincontrol

of this haunted hayride. He gives a hard look to my arms positioned around her waist. “And, dude, get

yourhandsthehelloffmysister.”

Charswatshimovertheshoulder.“Oh,hush,you.They’reacouplenow.Couplesholdoneanotherin

public. Get over it. Your sister is in love.” Her entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “They’re

lovers!”

“They’relovers!”Momcries—andholyshit,theentirerestofthetablelooksasifthey’reabouttobe

sick.

Poppypicksupaknifeandtapsitoverherglass,callingtheroomtoorder.“We’renotmovingthat

fast,”shetrills.“Thisisstillsomethingprettynew.”Herfacedarkensasevereshadeofcrimson.Poppy

hasalwaysblushedatthedropofahat.Whenwewerekids,Iusedtosaythefirstembarrassingthingto

entermymindjusttowatchhercheeksdotheirbestimpressionofapomegranate.

“Butwearemovingquickly.”Iwrapbothmyarmsaroundhertight.

Poppylooksupwiththoselonglashes,thathotasfuckmouth,andallIwanttodoisrunheruptothe

nearestbedandhavemywaywithher.Poppyhasalwaysbeentheunattainablegirlinaworldwherea

plethoraofgirlsofferedthemselvestomeasacarnalsacrifice—usuallyinexchangeforcashandprizes.I

learnedearlythatmybankaccountwasjustasgreataluretomymattressasanyofmyfeatures.

“Veryquickly.”Sheletsoutafreneticlaugh,anddinnerisofficiallyoverasMomandCharleneclear

thetableandlandachocolatecakethesizeofasmallcarbeforeus.

“It’sbetterthansexcake!”Momyodels.Wordsandsoundsyouneverhopetohearfromyourmother.

“Ofcourse,wemadeitfordessert,butit’sperfecttohonortheoccasion!”

Kali and Jules help dole it out while Mack pulls Poppy to the side for a minute. Most likely to

congratulateheronawell-doneperformance.

Connercomesinred-facedandangry.“Whatthefuck,dude?”Thosedaggersinhiseyespromiseto

stabtheballsrightoffmybodyfirstchancetheyget.

“Whoa.”Inodaswestepofftotheside.“Watchyourmouth.Thereareladiespresent.”Okay,soI

mightbeholdinginalaugh,butonlybecauseIknowhowmuchthisiskillinghimrightnow.Apartofme

knowsIshouldputhimoutofhismisery,butI’mratherenjoyingthatpainedlookonhisface.

Hisshoulderbuttsintomineashesetshisangryfacebeforeme.ConnerhasPoppy’seyes,andthere

havebeentimeswherejustlookingathimhurt.“Oneofthoseladiesismylittlesister.Dude,haveyou

lost your mind? I see what you do with those girls you pick up at the bar—it’s not pretty. And it’s not

happeningtomybabysister.”

“Look,loosenup.I’mnotdoingthosethingswithher.”There.Atleastnowhecancatchhisbreath

andmaybesleepatnight.Thedudeisabouttostrokeout.“We’retakingitslow.Justseeingwherethings

mightlead.”

“Theyleadnowhere.”Connerjabshisfingerhardintomychest,leavingastingthatradiatesfromhis

furtivestab.“Knockthisshitoff.I’llhavesixgirlssenttoyourofficecomeMonday.Justlaythehelloff

mysister.”

“What’sthis?”Poppypokesherheadbetweenus.“He’snotlayingthehelloffme,Conner.He’smy

personalboytoy.”Poppycupsmycheekswithherpalms,andItwistintoher.Holyhell,sheisaboutto

getusbothkilled.“JaxStadedoesn’tneedsixwomensenttohisoffice.”There’ssomethingjustthisside

ofadareinhereyes,andinstinctivelymyballswarnmetobevery,veryafraid.Wemightbeplayingour

mothers,takingherpsychoticbrotheralongfortheride,butsomethinginthatglibexpressionofherssays

the joke might just be on yours truly. “The only woman Jax will ever need is me.” Her eyes linger on

mine,andI’mmesmerizedbyhowconvincingsheis.She’sright,ofcourse.I’mjustnotsureshe’saware

ofit.

“Atoast!”Charlenecrieswhileholdingupasliceofhersinfulchocolatecake.

“Yes!”Momshouts,holdingupherownsliceofchocolateheaven.I’vegrownuponthatbetterthan

sex confection, and I can attest to its name. Although I’m betting a roll in the sack with Poppy might

changethatperspective.Avisualofherfallingovermylaplikeajackhammertreksthroughmymind.Her

nakedbody,pale,beautiful,thosetitsbouncinglike—

“ToPoppyandJax!”Mombringsherhandtoherchestastearsglitterinhereyes.“Maythejourney

leadtoablessedunionintheverynearfuture!”

PoppyandIgroaninunison.Itnevertakeslongforourmotherstodothematrimonialmath.

“Andchildren!”Charholdsupaforkfullofcake.“Lotsandlotsofchildren!”

The room breaks out into a sorry sort of congratulatory chaos—with the exception of the sheer

exuberanceofourmothers.

“Howaboutakiss?”Frasierholdsuphiswine,provinghe’slegitimatelytoasted.

BothCharleneandMomlooktooneanotherslack-jawed—mostlikelytickedthattheydidn’tthinkof

itfirst.

“Akiss?”Poppywhispers.“Thatjustmightbetheicingonthecake.”Herfingerspressintomyside

asifencouragingmetotaketheinitiative.ButIdon’tneedencouragement.I’malreadythere.

I lean in, and her eyes widen. Her mouth falls open, and as much as I’d like to think it was out of

anticipation,Poppylooksjustasflooredaseveryoneelseintheroom.

ButIgoforit.Mylipsbrushlightlyoverhers,andtheworld,mylife,myheartstops.Ihavekisseda

cast of thousands—mostly horny as hell women. My lips have touched even more than that, but this

simple,lighterthanair,featherybrushhasprovenfarmoreeroticthananythingI’veeverexperienced.

Poppypullsbackwithabreathcaughtinherthroat.

Ourmothersmoanandgaspforbreaththemselvesindisbelief.

“Youkissedme,”Poppymouthsjustbeforebitingdownonasmilewaitingtobreakthrough.

“AndI’mgoingtodoitagain.”

“Ohno,you’renot.”Connerspinsmetowardhim,andthelastthingIseeisthewhitesofhisoutraged

eyesbeforehisfistconnectswithmyjaw.Andjustlikethat,afistfightoftheagesbreaksout.

TherearetwothingsI’vewaitedyearstodo—first,landanotherkissontoPoppy’slips.Andsecond,

beattheshitoutofConnerMontgomery.

SENSUALSHENANIGANS

POPPY

herearetwothingsI’vewaitedyearsfor.ThefirstwastofeelJaxStade’slipsagainstminejustone

moretime.Andthesecond,toseeourmothersworkeduplikeapairofcacklinghyenaswhounbeknownst

tothemhavelandedonthereceivingendofthehighjinkladencrazytrainthey’vebeencommandeering

foraslongasI’veknownthem.

The Starry Nights Bar and Grill is sparsely populated on this cold as a witch’s tit afternoon. I’ve

alwayshatedthatsexistexpressionthatmybrotherseemedtobesofondof,butonthisbelowzeroarctic

hour, it seems to be a fitting description. I glance around and spot Sadie talking to Hunter, our old

childhoodfriendwhotookthisplaceoverfromhisfather.Handingthingsdowntoyourchildrenissortof

a rite of passage in Oak Grove, be it a billion-dollar steel company, a bar and grill, or even a crappy

senseofhumor.

I head over, offering Hunter a spontaneous hug. Hunter is handsome and sweet—a dangerous

combinationofeverythingright.Heonceaskedmeonadatetothemoviesinourjunioryearandnever

bothered to show. He apologized profusely and cited cold feet, and we’ve never brought it up again. I

neverseemedtohaveanyluckwiththeboysinOakGrove,sotheincidentdidn’tscarmeallthatmuch.

“What’sup,Montgomery?”Hunterhandsmeasodafromunderthecounter.“What’sthisIhearabout

you taming Stade?” His blond brows meet in the middle as if this were a genuine crisis of vaginal

proportions.

IglancetoSadieasthetruthbubblesupmythroat.Ican’tgoaroundlyingtoeveryoneIknow.

Sadiegivesaslightshakeofthehead.“Yes.It’sanewendeavorthey’reembarkingon—butcomeon.

Everyonewho’sanyoneinOakGrovehasknownthosetwoweredestinedforoneanother.”

“Right,”Isayconvincingly.“We’vefinallylaidourmotherstorest.”Waytosoundmorbid.Butifthe

bittertruthdoesthemin,thenit’sspot-on.

Hunter grunts, “Nice, Pop. It sounds like you killed them. And you know what else you killed? My

business.Wordontheestrogen-ladenstreetgetsoutandmynightlybarcrawlerswillreducebyathird.”

“A third, huh?” I muse at my old friend. “I didn’t realize Jaxson Stade’s penis was responsible for

boostingboththeclienteleandtheeconomyatStarryNights.”

Huntergroansjustasanentiregaggleofdistraughtlookingwomenstaggerin.“Pleasedon’tsaythe

wordpenisundermyroof.AndI’dbettergoconsolethemasses.Ijustwantyoutoknow,I’mholdingyou

personallyresponsibleforthefinancialdeclinearoundhere.”

“Veryfunny,”Isay,pullingSadieintothenearestseat.“Couldyoubelievethatriotlastnight?”

Sheleansinasherlidsgrowheavy.“I’mstillstuckonthatkiss.”

“Thatkiss.”IsuckinmybottomlipasIdrinkdownthememory.Sure,itwasjustawhisper,butit

mightaswellhavebeenascreamasfarasmygirlpartswereconcerned.IhadanhonesttoGodthigh

quivering,orgasmicpowersurgerightthereinfrontofourfamilies—mymother,myiratebrother,andmy

fatherforGod’ssake!“Whoknewitwasvolatileenoughtosendcakeflying?Anddon’tforaminutethink

Ifeelbadaboutit.Itfeelssinfullydeliciousservingthosemischiefmavenstheirjustdessertsafteryears

oflivingundertheirtyranny.”

Shewinces.“How’spoorConner?”

“PoorConnerwasdotedonallnightbymymother.Theswellinghasgonedown,andunlikeMack’s

unofficialdiagnosis,I’mpositivehe’llhavechildrenoneday.”

Connermayhavestartedthefight,butJaxsonManofSteelfinishedit.

“Iguessthisthingbetweenthetwoofyoumightactuallycostthemtheirfriendship.”

“Are you kidding?” I practically fall over in disbelief. “This thing we have is about as real as that

plasticChristmastreestillsulkinginthecorner.Assoonaswebreakthenewstoourmothers,Conner

willhaveagoodlaughandrecover.I’msurethey’llhugitout,andJaxwillprobablybuyhimaprivatejet

orsomethingequallyridiculousthatscreamsthismightbeover,butmydickisstillbiggerthanyours.”

Sadie belts out a laugh. Her tiny white teeth glow against those ruby red lips. I’ve always admired

Sadie’sperfectpicketfencesmile.WhileIsufferedyearsoforthodontiaatthehandsofthetownsadist,

my good friend with the consummate chompers invested her time and energy in garnering boys who

appreciate that pretty white smile. For as many dates as I didn’t have, Sadie made up the depraved

difference.

“So,what’snext?Youtakingthatbillionairebadboyintothelivingroomandhavingafeastoffhis

bodyforalltosee?”

“As tempting as teaching our mothers a lesson via better than sex cake, I think I’ll pass on the

voyeuristicdisplay.Seeingthatmyfatherandbrotherarebeingpulledintothisindelicatedisaster,Ithink

Ishouldatleastshowanounceofdecorum.”

“Okay,butjustanounce.Thisisn’taboutyourfatherorbrother.It’saboutteachingalessontothose

two nosy Nancys, who by the way rained on all of my parades by proxy. Who do you think was left

holdingthebagduringyoursweetsixteenwhentheythoughtitwasagoodideatosetyourhaironfire?”

“I’mprettysurethatwasanaccident.”Thememoryofleaningintoblowoutmycottoncandypink

candlescomestomindandIshudder.“Itwassimplyacaseoftoomuchflammablehairspray.”

Sadie grunts, “That coupled with the fact those seemingly innocent birthday candles morphed into

rocketlaunchersthesecondyoupuckeredthoseprettylittlelips.”Shemakesaface.“Icouldn’tdriveany

fastertotheER,Poppy.”

“That’sbecauseyouweren’ttheonewhowasdriving.ItwasJaxwhowasbreakinglawsbehindthe

wheel.”

Her lips twist as she nods in agreement. “He was always there for you, Pops. I don’t know why

Connerisshockedbyyourfakenews.Itshouldbereal.BothyouandIknowthat.”

Myphonebleatsanddoesaquickspinoverthetable,andIscoopitup.“Hmm,”Imuse.“It’satext

fromthemischievousmavenherself.”POTSishavingtheirannualdinnergalanextFridaynight!Deb

and I wanted to know if you and Jaxson wouldn’t mind popping in! Dinner and dancing at the

LeopardLodge.Allthespaghettiyoucaneat!Letmeknow,andI’llcoverthecost.

Iflashthephoneatmyoldfriend.POTSstandsforPoundsOfftheSensibleWay.I’vealwaysbeen

amusedathowthewordwaywasleftoffforthesakeofcreatingalingofriendlyacronym.Mymotherand

Deb have been members since before I was born, always battling those thirty unwanted pounds while

whipping up an entire kitchen of delicious desserts that landed them there in the first place. Of course,

Mom and Deb provide the local chapter of POTS with their latest, greatest kitchen creations, which in

turn keeps the local chapter the least productive in weight loss in the entire Western Hemisphere. I’m

convinced their efforts to join the chapter is just one long-running practical joke they’re playing on the

hips of the women of Oak Grove. After all, if Char and Deb were going to be forced to carry their

freshmanfifteenfortherestoftheirlives,they’llbedamnediftheentiretownisn’tgoingtojointhem.

“This,myfriend,iswhatI’llbedoinginexactlyoneweek.”

“Sounds perfectly scandalous. But an entire week?” She shakes her head with a look of

disappointment.“You’vegottostepupyourmessingwithmamagame.Ifyouwanttoplaythisoffasthe

realdeal,thetwoofyouneedtoseeoneanotherfarmorethanjusttherequisitevisitsponsoredbydear

oldMom.Arealcouplewouldbejoinedatthehipbynow.”

“Joined at the hip.” A visual of Jaxson’s very naked hips thrusting up against me floats through my

mind,andsuddenlyitfeelsabalmyonehundredsixty-ninedeliciousdegreesinhere.

“Easy,girl.”Sadiefansmewiththemenu.“Ifthat’swhatthinkingofdoingthedeedwithJaxsondoes

toyou,I’dhatetoseetheaftermath.Beinglaidupintheburnunitisn’tagoodlookonyou.Yoursixteen-

year-oldselfcanattesttothat.Girl,youaregoingtogouplikeaRomancandle.”

“Amnot.”Isnatchthemenufromherandgettobusinesswithitmyself.Damnairseemstohavelost

allitsoxygen.“Besides,we’renotsleepingtogether.We’rejustthreateningto.Speakingofwhich,who

areyouheatingthesheetswith?”Yes,I’vestoopedtoinvokingmymother’sowneuphemismforsexwith

mybestiejusttogetoffthetopicofJaxthrustingatmeamillionblue-eyedmilesanhour.DearGod,she’s

right. If Jax ever landed me horizontal, I’d rocket right into space and burn up long before I hit the

stratosphere.

Shegivesalittlenodtowardthebar.“Whatdoyouthinkwe’redoingatStarryNightsinthemiddleof

theafternoon?”

“Havinglunch?”

“No,younitwit.We’rehavingtheowner.OratleastI’mattemptingto.”Shestraightensinherseata

bit.ThisisagoodtimetopauseandletyouinonthefactthatSadieRichardsistheonlypersononthe

planetwhohasgarneredtherighttocallmeanitwittomyfaceandnotgetthroatpunchedintheprocess.

Besides,we’vebothdoneenoughstoriedthingstoearnaduncecapmadeofsolidfool’sgold.

“You’retryingtobagHunter?”MymouthfallsopenasImarvelatthethought.EveryoneinOakGrove

knows that Hunter is a good catch. In fact, before Sadie met and divorced Pervy Hervy—okay, so it’s

PeterHervy,buttrustme,itamountstothesamedamndifference—Itriedmybesttosetherupwiththe

cutebarownerinquestion.“Whatareyouwaitingfor?Goupthereandsetyournet.I’malwayslooking

tolearnfromthemaster.Besides,youknowI’vebeendyingtoseeyourgameinaction.”I’mnotteasing.

Sadieisageniuswhenitcomestopickingoutaguyandlandinghimflatonhisbackwiththedeftand

dexterityofaprowrestler.Thankfully,sheandPeterchosenottoprocreate,sothedisassemblingoftheir

unionwentalotcleanerandneaterthanexpected.

“Oh, hon, there are some secrets a girl has to keep to herself. Once I teach you my wicked ways,

there’s no turning back from that good time. Besides, you don’t need a net.” Sadie leans in and pulls a

strandofmyhairoffmyforehead.“Whenwasthelasttimeyoulandedamanbetweenthosesexyhairy

legsofyours?”

“Ha!I’llhaveyouknowIshaveregularlynow.”SowhatifIpreferredthefurrylookinhighschool?

HaveImentionedthesubarcticclimateinthisneckofColorado?

“No,youdon’t.Andagain,whenisthisboyexpectedtofaceplantintoyour—”

“Wouldyoustop?That’sdisgusting.”Ipretendtobeaffronted,butatthispointSadieknowsmetoo

well.

“Both you and I know Jax specializes in gifting women a night they can never forget. This is your

goldenmoment,sister,andifyoudon’ttakeit,I’mgoingtohavetorevokeyourgirlcard.Getoutofhere

right now—find that boy and bed him. And trust me, you won’t have to tell me when it happens. I’ll

alreadyknow.”

“You’reasexualpsychicnow,too?It’sgoodtoknowOakGrovehasbeengoodtoyou.”

“I’llknowbythesmokesignalsyourhappy,finallycontentlittlefunboxsendsintothesky.”Shepulls

atightsmile.“Jaxsonandyouaren’tgoingtoheatthesheets—you’regoingtosettheentiredamntownon

fire.Now,getoutofhere.”ShegivesalittlewinktoHunterashemakeshiswayover.“Two’saparty.

Three’sagoodtimeI’mnothavingwithyou.Now,scoot!”

“Igetit,”IsayasIhightailittotheexit.It’stimeforSadietogethergrooveback.

MaybegettingmygroovebackwithJaxsonwouldn’tbesuchabadthing?

Andwiththat,Iheadtothecar.Oddlyenough,ittakesmestraighttoStadeSteel.

Gofigure.

I’

SPENT

my childhood on this deserted end of town with Jax. Jaxson’s father used to host a field trip

withtheentireschooleachyear.ButmyfavoritetimesweretheprivatetoursthatJaxwouldgiveme.He

was an exceptional tour guide, and I pretended to be very interested in melted alloys being laid out in

sheets.ButtheonlythingIwasreallyinterestedinwastheboyproudlyshowingmetheempirehewould

onedaytakeover.

Ipark just outsidethe corporate office,a tall, boxy buildingthat spans ninefloors with Stade Steel

takingupamajorityofit,butthefirstfewfloorsarerentedouttoeveryonefromdentiststoanartgallery.

Stade Steel has always been the heart and lungs of Oak Grove. My mother used to say we would have

fadedoffthemaplongagowithoutthem.Iknowit’strue.StadeSteelhasturnedintothebiggestindustrial

employer just this side of Denver. I get out and pause as I take in the factory in the distance with its

haunting large smokestacks set amidst piles of fresh fallen snow. The contrast of dark and light—you

couldn’ttellthestoryoftherichandpoorinOakGrovebetterthanthat.Myfatherhasalwaysdonepretty

wellforhimself,soweneverfeltthestingofnothavingourbasicneedsmet,butIknewfromhangingout

attheStade’smegamansionthatwewerefarfromwealthy.Ithinktheonlythingthat’skeptJaxson’sfeet

onthegroundisthefacthisgrandfatherchoseOakGrovetoblesswiththisfactory.

Thewindpicksupandushersmeintotheslickstainlessbuilding,craftedfromwhatelse?StadeSteel.

Thelobbyiselegantwithglassandblackgranite.WhenIwasakid,Ithoughtthiswasabeautifulplaceto

host my fab dream wedding to Jaxson. Yes, my mother and her cohort in engagement-ring-bearing-arms

had me brainwashed for a time. Although now that I’m older and wiser, I clearly see that the lobby of

StadeSteel,Incorporatedismuchbettersuitedforanaughtydaytimerompthaniteveriscrystalflutesof

champagneanddinnerplatesfullofprimerib.

IgiveaquickhellotothesecretaryandhopintotheelevatorasImakemywaytothepenthousefloor

whereIfullyexpecttofindJaxsonsittingonhissteelthrone.

Myheartpalpitatesunnaturallyasthedoorswhooshopen,andamodern,notmodestbyanymeans,

whitewashedenclaveawaitswithbodiesbustlingtoandfroasifthiswereaNewYorkconglomerateand

not a blip on the map of Oak Grove. I head toward the row of offices and can’t help but note the new

sparkling granite floors, the stainless steel desks with their new age design. There’s a minimalist

atmospherehereingeneral,andtheentirescenelooksfarmorepolishedthanIeverrememberit.Thatlast

timeIvisitedwasthedayIhelpedConnermovehisboxesuptohisoffice.ItwasThanksgivingweekend,

manymoonsago,andImadesurethatJaxwasnowherenearthefacility.JaxsonandIhavemadeitafine

arttoavoidoneanother,butnottoday.Todayisallaboutfindingthatbadboyandteachinghimalesson.

“Poppy?”

IturntofindbothConnerandJaxsondressedtotheninesindarkinkysuits,butit’sthesuitontheleft

—Jaxson’stobeexact—thathasmyovariespoppinglikeaFourthofJulygrandfinale.

“MotherofGod,”Iwhisper.

“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Connercomesoverandoffersmeaquickembrace,butIcan’tseemto

takemyeyesoffJaxsoninthatnavyItalianmasterpiecewiththegoldtieI’dlovetousetokinkthingsupa

bit.

“Pops?”Connerwaveshishandovermyeyes.“Shit.Tellmeyou’renotswooning.I’llhavetokick

hisassalloveragainifyouare.”

“Ofcourse,she’sswooning.”Jaxbreaksoutintoasexygrinakintoanybigbadwolfworthyofhis

grannyeatingsalt.Wait,thatdidnotsoundright.OfhisPoppyeatingsalt.Ibitedownonmylowerlipso

hard,Inearlydrawbloodtokeepfromgiggling.“I’mgladyoustoppedby.Iwasjustabouttocallyou.”

“Really?” Heart stops. Dies. Jaxson Stade, love of my life, was about to use those seven magical

digitstotapmeonthetechnologicalshouldertotellmehelovesme.Okay,somaybenotthat.Butstill.

Communicationeffortswereunderway.It’sastart.

“Yes,really.”Hisbrowstwitch,andImeltundertheduressofthoseviolentlyblueeyes.WhenGod

made Jaxson, he might have dumped a little too much testosterone in the mix because Jaxson has the

powertoturnanygirlintoanovarypoppingpuddle.Iswear,Ihatethispartofme.Iusedtobestrong—

attackwithmywordsandthenrunthehellawaywasmyMOaroundhimforsolong.ButIcan’thelpthe

factI’mweakaswater.WhenJaxsonStadepoursoutallofhisattentiononyou,hehasawayofmaking

youfeelliketheonlywomanonthislonelyplanet.“Mymotherishere.”Henodstowardtheboardroom.

“Let’sgoinandsayhello.”Hisarmfindsitswayaroundmyshoulderashegivesalittlewink.

ConnerstepsinandflipsJaxson’sarmrightbackoffofme.“Whydon’tyouheadinfirst?”hegrunts

at his best friend. “We’ve got a little family business to tend to.” My brother offers me a strange

combinationofafrownandagrimace.

“Willdo.”Jaxbounceshisfingeroffmynosebeforeheadingintotheroomjustdownthehall.

“What family business?” I try to peer over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Jax through the wall-

sizedwindowthatleadstotheboardroom.

Connerstepsovertomakesuremyviewiscompletelyblocked.Hewasthiswaywhenwewerekids,

too.Alwaysmakingsurehewasn’tbeingignoredwhileactinglikeanass.“Haveyoulostyourfreaking

mind?”

“No,Ihaven’tlostmyfreakingmind.I’mtryingtolosemyfreakingvirginityintheeventyouhaven’t

noticed,”Iteasewhilejumpinguptocatchaglimpseofwhat’sgoingoninthatboardroomwithoutme.

“What?”Connersquawkswhilesteppinginfrontofmewithhisrefrigeratorwidegirth,andIgiveup

allhopeofsneakingaglimpseofmychildhoodcrushinazootsuit.

“I’mkidding.IlostmyvirginityagesagotoTommyMacintoshinthebackofthatoldVWheusedto

have.”

“Geez!”Conner covers hisears half-heartedly. “Wouldyou cut it out?Are you tryingto kill me? Is

thatwhatthisisabout?”

“No, I’m not trying to kill you. Don’t flatter yourself. This isn’t about you. It’s about me.” And our

mother, I want to add but don’t. “I’m happy.” In a revenge-fueled kind of way. “Besides, that’s Jaxson

Stadebackthere.Anygirlintownwouldbegladtoclaimhim,andhe’sallmine.Youshouldbehappy

foryourlittlesister,”Ibleatoutthatlastsentencelikeathreat.

“I’mnothappy.I’mweirdedout.You’reright.That’sJaxsonStade,theboyyoupracticallygrewup

knowingasyoursecondbrother.Hell,he’smybrother.Andmybrotherandsistercan’tdothingslikethat

together.”Connersoftenswithapainedlookinhiseyesashewalksbacktohisoffice,andIdon’tstop

him.“Youdon’tknowwhatyou’regettingyourselfinto.AndIdon’tknowwhat’sgottenintoyou.”

What’sgottenintome?Ishakemyhead.It’sclearsomethinghasgottenintohim.Yes,Jaxwascloseto

bothofus,butit’sclearConneristheonlyonewhosawhimasasparesibling.Myhormonesweretoo

devoutinworshiptoseehimthatway.Buthe’sright.Idon’tknowwhatI’vegottenmyselfinto.

Itakeadeepbreathandstepintothatoffice,fullyexpectingtofindJaxson’ssexyselfpreparinghis

motherforthesteamyshowtocome,whenIsteprightintoadark-hairedvaginaltoutingvixeninstead—

Larissa.

“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Yeast Infection herself.” I force a tight smile. “If you’re looking for a good

ointmenttocurethatrash,Ihearthere’sasaleatWalgreensonthattutucreamyoutriedtopeddle.”

“Youknow—you’restillnotfunny,Montgomery.”Sheflicksmeinthefacewiththestackofpapersin

herhandsandwalksoutthedoorinthosesix-inchstiltsshe’stryingtopassoffasheels.

IstepintofindashockedDebbieStadestaringrightbackatme.

“Poppy,isthatyou?”Debhonkssoloudmynametraversesaroundthecoldsterileroomlikeanecho

chamber.Sheswoopsonoverinherchicpantsuit,herhaircarefullycoifedandsprayedtoamenopause

bobperfection.

“Alive and in the flesh!” I head over to Jax without hesitation. I might have started on this road to

deception with hesitation, but I’m all aboard the Jaxson Express, or at least I’m hoping to be before

midnight.Sadieisright.WhatiswrongwithendingmydryspellwhileI’minbetweenjobs?Hopefully

soon, I’ll be back in L.A. getting coffee for my new, requisitely tyrannical boss while pretending to be

importanttomyfriendsandfamilybackhome.Okay,soit’snotthatbad,andifIhadanewjob,I’dbe

morethanhappytoplaybarista.

“Ijustcouldn’tstandtobeawayfromthisoneanotherlivelongminute!”IwrapmyarmsaroundJax

Stade in a suit and die a thousand GQ deaths. His chest expands as he takes in a breath, and I’m

mesmerizedbythewaythefabricofhissmoothshirtstretchesoverthatrock-hardchestofhis.Jaxwason

thetrackteambackinhighschool,andtheswimteam,andthefootballteam—andlet’snotforgethislove

ofbaseballinthespring.He’sanall-aroundcompetitor,whomImighthavecalledJockCockatimeor

two, but only because I was teasing—and drooling. I’ve always been fascinated by the things this boy

coulddowithhisbody,rightupuntilhestarteddoingtheentirecheerleadingsquad.Thatsortofkilledmy

fascination—and thus, my fascination sort of turned into a bona fide fear for the general hygiene of his

ballsandourfuturechildrenhewashousinginthere.Althoughthatdreameventuallyfadedjustlikeour

friendship.

“Comehere,you.”Jaxlandshispalmovermycheekandplantsaslowlingeringkissrightovermy

lips. He pulls back, and I’d swear on my life that the chuckle he’s giving is entirely due to the fact my

cheekshaveignitedadeathlyshadeofgarnet.

“I still can’t believe this is real.” Deb pulls the three of us into an awkward embrace. “Did your

mothermentionanythingaboutthePOTSgala?”

“Yes!”Igivealittleenthusedhop.“Andwe’llbetherewithbellson.”

“Bells!” She claps up a storm. “Wedding bells, I hope.” She gives a little wink as she cinches her

purse over her shoulder. “You know as happy as I am for you both, I’d like to think that my Dalton is

smilingdownonthetwoofyoutwiceashard.”Tearsglitterinhereyesasshebringsherdeadhusband

intothemix,andmystomachclenches.It’sallfunandgamesuntilsomeonedragsadeadbodyintothe

room.Andinthiscase,it’sJaxson’sfather.Hewasagreatman,andIcriedashardasJaxsondidtheday

welosthim.

Jaxsonpullsmeincloseashelookstohismother.“I’dliketothinkso,too.”

She shakes her finger at her son as she heads for the exit. “A lot of people thought the two of you

belongedtogetherfromthestart,buthebelievedinyoulikenooneelse.”

“Oh,”Iwhimperwithoutmeaningto.

“I’llcatchyoutwolater.Don’tbehavenow—youhear?”Shegivesawickedcackleassheclosesthe

doorbehindher.

Iburymyfaceinmyhandsamoment.“I’msureyourfatherwouldberollinginhisgraveifheknew

whatwewereupto.”

“Areyoukidding?”Hegivesmyshoulderaquickrubdown.“He’sprobablycheeringusonfromthe

sidelines.Healwaysthoughtthosetwoweretrouble.Heusedtocallthem—”

“LucyandEthel.”Inod.“Buthewaswrong.Theyarewayworsethanthat.”Iglancearoundtheroom.

“DidIinterruptanything?”Theenormoustablebehindhimisladenwithtraysofcrudités,stillheaping

withignoredcarrotsthatlinetheperipherylikelittlenubbyfingers,andmoundsofuntouchedbroccoli.

“Acarbohydrateinterventionperhaps?WhendidStadeSteeloutlawdonuts?”

Heletsoutalaugh,andhisfingersdigintomysidebeforebrushingovermyleftboob.

“Sorry.”Hewincesasheholdshishanduplikeathief.“Youdorealizethatwasn’tacheapployto

landonsecondbase.”

“Idon’tseewhynot.Yourbodyispracticallyprogrammedtoroundoutthebasesonopeningnight.So

allthingsconsidering,IguessI’mokaywithit.”

Hiswateryblueeyessteadyintomine.“Youstillokaywiththis?”Hegivesmyfingeratugwhenhe

saysit.

“Ifitbringsanounceofemotionaldistresstothewomenwhohavespecializedingivingusemotional

distressallourlives,Isaywewalktothirdthenexttimethosetwoareintheroom.Whatisthirdbase,

anyway?”

“Come on, Eight Ball. You do realize your other nickname in school was practically third base

personified.”

“If you’re talking about Pop Top, that nickname was exclusive to Jugs Larissa Magee, and why the

hellareyouemployingheraftershetriedtopantsmeinthemiddleofthequadonhomecomingday?”

Jaxsoftensintome,thatsmileofhiswanesjustabit,andthere’saveiledlookofsadnessinhiseyes.

It’seasylikethiswithJaxson,andI’mnotsurewhatcouldpossiblypainhimaboutthat.Thenithitsme.

“I’msosorry.”Ipressmyhandtomychest.“Thatwastotallyinsensitiveofme.Iknowhowmuchthe

passingofyourdadstillaffectsyou.Itaffectsme,too.”Myvoicecrawlsdowntothatdeplorablelevel

reservedfortalkingtoinfantsandsmallfurrypets—andapparently,familygriefasitwere.

“Itdoes?”Hetipshisheadandgivesthatlazysmilethatmakesmythighsquiver.

“Yes,itdoes.I’msorry.”

“Don’tapologize.I’msorry.I’msorrythatmyemployingLarissaoffendsyou.Ishouldhaveknown

you’dbreezebackintomylifeoneday,fullyampedtounleashvengeanceonourmothers,anditwould

bringyourightheretomyboardroom.”Hiseyesbearintominewithalookofwonder.“Whathasyou

backinOakGrove?Areyouapermanentfixture,orshouldIprepareforheartbreak?”Hislefteyecomes

thisclosetowinking,andmysweetspotpulsatesoncue.Iloveitwhenhedoesthat.It’sbeenhisodd

physiologicalresponsewheneverhe’sattemptingtoveilthetruth.But,wow,isithotasakissfromthe

sun.I’mprettysurehavingroutineorgasmsaroundtheboyyoulustedafterreligiouslyisn’tthebestidea,

consideringhe’ssettingtheorgasmicbarprettyhigh.ThoseCalifornianightsareabouttogetlongerand

farlonelieroncemyfeettouchdownonL.A.soil.

“Prepare for heartbreak. I have a new job starting a week after we collectively dash our mothers’

hearts.”God—Iamsuchaliar!AlthoughI’mhopingsomethingwillmaterializeformeinthatregard.I

guessit’snotreallylying.I’msortoftossingpositiveenergyoutintotheuniverse.

“New job.” That pained look comes to him once again. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing great out

there.”Hetakesadeepbreath,andthatenormouschestofhisrisesandfalls.“SoIhaveyoualltomyself

forthenextfewweeks.”Histonguedoesaquickrevolutionaroundthosecushionsoftlipsasifhewere

readyingtoeathisfavoritemeal,andmyeyeslingerontheglossleftinhistracks.

“All to yourself,” I muse. My breathing becomes labored as the air seems to thicken unnaturally.

Jaxson steps in closing the gap between us, and the warmth of his body radiates over me. There is

something simply intoxicating about a man in a suit, but there is something downright delicious about

JaxsoninasuitthatmakesmepunchdrunkwithlustonalevelthatIcanhardlystand.

Hereachesoverandhitchesmyhairbehindmyearinamovesosweetitmakesmylegsclenchinan

efforttokeepmyovariesfromattackinghim.

“Comeon,EightBall,”hewhispersinaseductivewaythatonlyJaxknowshowtodo.“I’llgiveyou

aquicktourofthebuilding.”Hethreadshisarmthoughmineandnods.“Formymother’ssake.”

“Oh,right,forhersake.”Iswallowhardasthegirthofhisbodyrelaxesagainstmine.Jaxsonstrides

usdownthehallandshowsmeofflikeabrandnewsportscar.I’dberemissifIdidn’tnotethefabway

everysinglefemaleonthefloordropsherjawinourhonor,butthemostnoteworthyjawdropistheone

we’reexperiencingnowaswecomeuponLarissaasshechatsstereotypicallybythewatercoolerwhile

hernipplespeeroutforachancetopeekatJaxsonthemselves.

“Whatthis?”Larissabouncesthegirlsrightoverasshedemandsexplanation.

“Thecat’soutofthebag.”Iwrapanarmaroundthissteelyhandsomemanbymyside.“Ourmothers

arefinallygettingwhattheywishedfor—thetwoofusare—”JustasI’mabouttospearLarissainthe

heartwithanicicleintheshapeofJaxsonStade’smostprizedmember,heclearshisthroat.

“Havingsomefun,”heinterjects.

“Really? Having some fun?” She steps back, looking a little affronted by our effort to have a good

time.“Finishingoneanother’ssentences?”Hermouthopenswide.IfDaltonistrulylookingoutforus,I’d

appreciateitifhesentagiantred-eyedhorseflytozoomrightdownherthroat.Itwouldtotallybeworth

theprojectilevomitingthatwouldinevitablyensue.

“We’dbettergo.”IgiveJaxatugintheoppositedirection.“Hewasjustabouttoleadmetohislair.

Rumorhasit,he’sreallygoodatbendingthemassesoverhisdesk,andtherearejustsomethingsthata

girlneedstofindoutforherself.Toodles!”

A dark laugh thunders from his chest as he navigates me deeper down the labyrinth that is the

penthousefloorofStadeSteel.

“Whydidyoutellherwewerejusthavingfun?”Iresisttheurgetosmackhimasheopensthedoorto

an office the size of my apartment back in L.A., and I forget to take my next breath. Glossy dark wood

floors and walls adorned with oversized canvases that practically span to the ceiling greet us. An

enormous white sofa and a full black granite bar sit in the corner. The desk itself is a testament to the

productStadeSteelrollsoutbytheboltwithalargeblackleatherseatsituatedbehindit.

Hishandscomeupovermyshouldersasheoffersanimpromptumassage.“Becausethat’swhatwe’re

having,isn’tit?Fun?”

“Fun,”IwhisperasIturnaroundtofacemychildhoodfriendasthedangerouslygorgeousmanhe’s

turned out to be. His eyes are fastened to mine, his expression serious, and there’s just enough dark

stubbleshadowinghischeekstogivehimthatrougharoundtheedgeslookthathepracticallyinvented.“Is

thatwhatyouwant?Tohavefunwithme,Jaxson?”MythroatissodryIcanhardlygetthewordsout.

Theideaofalaughrumblesfromhimashisthumbfindshiswayovermycheekwithaquicksweep.

“Yes,Poppy.Iplanonhavingjustthat—alotoffunwithyou.”Hesaysfun like it’s a dirty word, and

dearGodAlmighty,I’mhopingitwillbe.

Fun.That’sthelastthingIexpectedtohaveonmytripbacktoOakGrove.

It’sthelastthingIexpectedwithJaxsonStade—butdeepdown,it’sexactlywhatIhopedfor.

JAXSON

aysfloatbywithPoppybymyside.It’sasurrealfeelingtohaveherhere,tohavehernearmeatall.

ButIrealizeit’sallforshow,witheachoutingwepartakeiniswell-orchestratedtoeitherdirectly

or indirectly involve our mothers. First, there was bowling, which she beat me at legitimately, and I’m

stillprettytickedaboutit.Next,therewasabarcrawlatStarryNightswithfriends.Andlet’snotforget

that each time I picked up Jensen from daycare, Poppy was right there making sure we went for hot

chocolaterightafter.IthinkJensenisstartingtolikePoppyjustasmuchasIdo.AndIdolikePoppy.I’ve

alwayslikedher.Andyetthere’ssomethingaboutthisrevelationthatsaddensme.

WhatthehellistheretosaddenmeabouthangingoutwithPoppy?Yes,thingsweregreatwhenwe

werekids,butthatgrayzoneweenteredoncepubertyhitthrewusofftrack.SomethingwentwrongthatI

can’tquiteputmyfingeron.It’snotlikeweweretogether.Wedatedotherpeople.Andthen,likeaspear

totheheart,ithitsme.Thatrightthereisthetenderspotthatnevertrulyhealed.Poppymighthavedated

otherpeopleallthoseyearsago,buttonightPoppyMontgomeryisdatingme—andunfortunately,thishot

dateinvolvesmymother.

Thedoorbellrings,andIheadstraightovertofindPoppy’ssmilingfaceontheothersideoftheglass.

I thought since my mother will be glued to the television tonight watching her favorite standby, Ice

Skating with the Stars, Poppy should come over for dinner and a movie. That way my mother gets to

watchtherealshowfirsthand,andIgettoreapthebenefits.

“I can’t believe you live at home.” Poppy’s perfect bowtie lips contort into all sorts of delicious

shapesI’dliketodivemymouthover.

IrealizethatPoppyjustsaidsomethingtome,thatthewordsweremostlikelyaninsult,butI’mtoo

mesmerized watching her cherry red lips and the magnificent way they move. Hell, everything about

Poppyismagnificenttonightinthatshortwhitedress,theblackleatherbootsthatcomecleartoherthighs.

Crap.Iamintrouble.I’veneverbeenaroundagorgeouswomanwholookedlikeastickofdynamite

goingoffinyourfaceandnotgottenlaid.

“You’rebeautiful.”

“Thankyou,”shewhispersasshegivesaquickglancearound.“Where’syourmother?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” I offer a lazy smile. “She’s in the living room. Why don’t we say hello

beforeIhaveyoucookmeameal?”

“You’resuchasexistpig.”Shestridesrightpastme,andthescentofherperfumepullsmewithher

likealeash.Sweet.Poppyholdsthescentofaflowerjustlikehernamesuggests.Anddamn,shelooks

goodfrombehind.“AuntDeb?”shecallsassheheadsstraightforgroundzero.Ihaven’theardhercall

mymotherthatineons.Itmakesmelongforthoseolden,goldendaysofourfantasticyouth.

“Oh!”Momjumpsatthesightofusfromthecouch.Herhairiswrappedinatowel,andshecradlesa

pintoficecreamonherlapwithaspoonspikedthroughit.“Goodness!Iwasjustabouttoindulge.You

twowanttotakeaseat?It’squarterfinalsnight!”Sheclawsatthetelevisionjustastheintrocomeson.

“Nothanks.”Poppywrapsaslenderarmaroundmywaist,andmydickstartlestolife.“Jaxherewas

justabouttofixusdinner.Wouldyoulikesomethingtoeat?”

Mom’sbrowsjumpwithamusement,andshegetsthatlookinhereyesthatspellsoutdangerahead.

“I’mbettingthisisaprivatemenuhe’sconcoctingjustforthetwoofyou.”Shesaysconcoctingasifit

wereasexualterm,andmyappetitetakesanosedive.

“It’spizza,”Iflatline.“We’remakingourown.You’rewelcometojoinus.”Ilaytheinviteoutlikea

threat,andshesmirksmyway.

“Heavens no. You two have fun. I’ll be right here if you need anything. Bon appétit!” She lifts her

spoonintotheairbeforetakingabite.

“Pizza?”Poppypracticallyskipstothekitchen.“God,I’veforgottenwhatapalaceyoulivein.Are

yousureweneedtomakeourowndinner?That’ssomethingonlypeasantsdo.”Shegivesmyearaquick

tug,andajoltrunscleardownmyrightsidefromhertouch.

“What a coincidence?” It takes great restraint not to take her in my arms. “Tonight we dine like

peasants.Besides,youlovepizza.”

“Onlyifyou’vegotanchovies.”

“We’regoingoldschoolbecauseIhavemoresaltedgreasyfishthanyou’llknowwhattodowith.”

I pull out the spread I had my mother’s personal chef put together. Yes, we might be eating like

peasants,butthefoodwaspreparedforusasifwewerekings.Ilayoutovertwentypotentialtoppings

androlloutsixballsofdoughontothemarblecounter.

“Wow,thisisamazing,”PoppymarvelsasIsprinklethecounterwithflourandhandherarollingpin.

“Youdorealizethisistheonlyhousewithabuilt-inpizzaoveninallofOakGrove.”

“IbetyoueveryhouseinL.A.hastwo—oneinthekitchenandoneinthebathroom.”

Alaughbeltsfromher,anditwarmsmerightdowntomyfeet.“Andwhypraytellwouldtheyhavea

pizzaoveninthebathroom?”

“Because they’re weird like you.” I brush my finger over her nose, but those eyes. When we were

kids,I’dopenlystareatherneongreeneyes,andshewouldn’tmind.I’mstillnotsurethathueisfound

anywhereelseinnature.“AndIbettheysandwichpraytellinbetweeneverysentence.”Ipickupaball

ofdoughandpretendtoflingitather.

Asharplaughpumpsfromher.“Don’tyoudareturnthisintoafoodfight.”

Ispotmymotherwatchingusfromthereflectioninthewallmirrorhangingbeforeher.

“I’llturnitintowhateverIlike.”IpullPoppyintomyarms,andwedoalittletwirlrighthereinthe

kitchen.“Apairofsixty-year-oldeyesiswatchingfromthelivingroom,”Ipracticallymouth.

“Almostsixty,”Poppycorrectsbecauseshe’sasmartassthatway,andsheknowsIsecretlyloveit.

Herarmsfindtheirwayaroundmybackasshelooksupatmefromunderherlashes.“Byallmeans,let’s

putonashowworthwatching.”

“Idon’tknow,Pops.IceSkatingwiththeStarsisprettyheavycompetition.”Ipressmylipscloseto

hertemple,andIcanfeelherbodyquiverbeneathme.ImaynotknowhowPoppyfeelsaboutme,butI

knowthefemalebody.Icanreaditseveryquiver,itseveryshiverlikesheetmusic,andhersjustgaveme

thegreenlight.I’dlovetoactonit.I’dlovetolandakisstothatperfectmouthofhers,takeherupstairs

andloveherthewayI’vewantedtoforsolong.

Shepullsback,herhandspressedtomychestasifholdingmeatbay,andshemighthaveto.Herbody

mightbesendingmesignals,butmineisprogrammedtoreceive.

Herbreathinggrowserraticashertitsdanceupanddown.Lookup,lookup,Irepeatoverandover

tomyself.Nothingruinstheintensityofamomentmorethanaquickglancetothegirls.AndthisisPoppy.

Asfarasshegoes,Ishouldn’tevenbeawareofthefactshehasthem,letalonehavethoughtsoflanding

mymouthovereachone.IcouldmapoutninedifferentwaysI’dlovetodevourthem.

She clears her throat. “I think we’d better make some pizza before that oven burns the entire house

down.It’sgettingprettyhotinhere.”

“Surething,EightBall.I’llturnonthepizzaoven.”Igivealittlewink,andsheswatsme.Poppypulls

herphoneoutandputsonsomemusic,aplaylistshecallsSedated,andwegetdowntotheveryserious

businessofbuildingourownpizzas.I’mjustabouttoputallsixintotheoven,andPoppycomesatme

withahandfulofpurpleonions.

“Wait!Onemoredashforgoodluck.”

“Goodluckforwhat?Youkeepingthevampiresatbaytonight?”

“That’s garlic, you moron, not onions—onions make them cry. Which reminds me.” She tosses on a

fewclovesofthedemon-wardingroot,andIdivethepiesintothefirebeforeshedecidestotossona

watermelon.“AndI’mnottryingtowardoffanyvampires.”Sheglancestothelivingroom,andIdothe

same. Sure enough, we’ve sidelined my mother’s icescapes for the evening because her attention is

zeroedinonus.

Poppydoesn’tmissabeat.Shelandsherfingersinmyhair,rakinghernailsgentlyovermyscalpover

andoveragain,andI’dbealiarinthepitofhellifIdidn’tsayitfeelsdamngood.Poppylooksmeright

in the eye with those lawn green lenses, her lips form into the perfect little pout, and it’s taking

superhumanstrengthnottokissthem.“Ihaveafeelingit’syouIneedtokeepatbay.”Herfingertouches

mynosewhenshesaysit,andherhipsswivelagainstmineaswestartslowdancingtothemusic.“Isaw

thewayyouwerelookingatmyboobs.”Shemakesaface,andIcringe.

“Ididn’tlookatyourboobs,”Iwhisper,tossingaquickglanceovermyshoulder.“Andwouldyou

keep it down?” A laugh strums from me because we happen to be off to a great start on our pizza

adventure.SlowdancingwithPoppy?Sixpizzasintheoven?Whoknewoneofthebestdatesoftheyear

wouldtakeplaceinmymother’skitchenofallplaces?

“You wanted to sneak a peek.” She gives a conniving grin. “I can tell. I can read your mind,

remember?”

Awarmsmilecomestome.Whenwewerekids,PoppywouldswearupanddownsheknewwhatI

wasthinking,andeerilynomatterhowhardItestedhertelepathicabilities,ninetimesoutoftenshewas

right.

“Busted.”Iclosemyeyesamoment.“Butinmydefense,thegirlsarerightthere.”Myvoicebreaksas

asadlaughemitsfromme.“You’vedonnedarathereye-poppingdress—punintended.”Themusicpicks

up,andIpressmyhipsclosertohersaswekeeptimetotherhythm.

“Oh—ho!”Shebeltsoutalaugh.“So,you’reblamingmeforthefactyoucan’tkeepyoureyeballsin

their sockets? I bet you have at least a dozen sexual harassment suits filed against you. And now it all

makestotalsensewhyyouhaveConneronyourpayroll.”

Nowit’smebeltingoutalaugh.

“Youkidssmellsomethingburning?”Momshoutsfromthelivingroom.

“Shit.”Iworktogetthepizzasoutandlandfournearlycharredmessesontothecounter.Twocome

outunscathed.“We’vegotitundercontrol,”IshoutbackbeforeglancingtoPoppy.“Oneforeachofus.I

hopeyou’renottoohungry.”

“Are you kidding? I’m starved. You’re lucky my anchovies made it out unsinged, Gordo, or you’d

havetocallwhoeverchoppedupallthoseveggiestogetrightbacktothedrawingboard.”

“Ah,bustedagain.”Ilaugh,landinghersaltycatchofthedaypizzaontoaplateanddothesamefor

mine.“Followme,EightBall.It’stimeforthegrandfinale.”

Notonlyisthediningroomperfectlyparalleltothecouchthatmymotherisfirmlyseatedonwhile

feasting on Ben and Jerry’s, but I know for a fact Sixteen Candles happens to be Poppy Montgomery’s

favoritemovie,andI’mabouttokilltwobirdswithonepizza-sizedstone.

I set the plates onto the center of the dining room table and hop up on the lengthy mahogany

monstrositythatcaneasilysitfiftyandhelpPoppyclimbonboardaswell.

“What in the H-E-double-hockey sticks are you up to?” Her hair flashes around as she gets herself

settled.I’vealwaysbeenfascinatedbyherlongglossyhair.Onceinthattiredtreehouseofmineshesetit

outthewindowlikeRapunzel.Thelighthitherjustright,anditwasthefirsttimeIthoughtthatmybest

friendwasbeautiful.Iguessit’sfairtosaythatPoppy’shairstarteditall.

Awarmlaughtumblesfrommeatthefactsheditchedthehardcorelanguage.“Youremembertheno

expletivesrule.”

“Areyoukidding?IonceaccusedConneroffartinginhere,andIwasbanishedfromvideogamesfor

aweek.”

“Well,technically,thatisanFword,andifyouuseitagainImighthavetoimplementmyownformof

punishment.”

Shemakesafaceasshesitswithherlegscrossed,andIdothesame.“I’dsayitagain,butpersonally

itwouldruinmyJakeRyanmoment.WhymustyouinvoketheseductivepowersofaJohnHughesmovie

onme,Gordo?YouknowI’masuckerforagoodromanticscenerecreation.What’snext?Areyoutaking

meshoppingonRodeoDrivesoIcanbeyourcallgirlfortheweekend?”

“Youareaprettywoman.”Itickmyheadtotheside,proudofthefactIgotthatreference.“Nowkiss

me.”Ileaninandpuckermylips.Fromtheperiphery,Iseemymotherbringherphoneup,justwaitingfor

theperfectmomenttosnapthatpicture.IhavenodoubtIknowwhereshe’llbesendingit.AndI’msure

it’llmaketheblogcomemorning,too.

“Akiss,huh?Justgivemeasec.”Shepicksupagianthunkofgarlicoffherpizzaandchewstheshit

outofitbeforefanningherselfassheforcesitdownherthroat.“’Kay,I’mready.”

The olfactory assault hits me before she ever leans in, and yet even that doesn’t scare me away. “I

hopeyourealizeIcanseethefumesplumingfromyourbreath.”

“Youlike?”Shepopsanotheroneintohermouthandmoansassheleansinhard.“Sogood.Ibetall

thegirlswishtheycouldsanitizetheirmouthswithvampirerepellantonceyoucomeinforthekill.You

doknowthatgarlicisanaturaldisinfectant.Ibetitcankillallthatfungiyouhavelingeringaroundinthat

mouthofyours.”Shegivesacheekygrin,clearlyproudofherknowledgeofmythologicalblood-sucking

creatures.“HowmanyWhoppersareyourboxersservingnow,anyway?Amillion?Iguessit’sluckyfor

methatyoupreferhamburgersoverhotdogs.”

“You’renotfunny.”Ashort-livedlaughtremblesthroughmeregardless.“Andisthatthekindoftalk

youseducethoseL.A.boyswith?”

“Are you kidding? L.A. is a vegan town. Even the cheese on this pizza would be considered

sacrilegious.”Hertongueglossestherimofherlipsasthemomentgrowsserious.“You’rearealbreath

offreshair,Jaxson.”

“WishIcouldsaythesameforyou.”Truthis,Poppyismorethanabreathoffreshair.Shehasmy

heartpumpingonceagainafteralltheseyears.“Now,getoverhereanddisinfectmymouth,wouldyou?”

“Asyouwish.”

“Wrong movie,” I moan as our lips touch down over one another, careful and lingering. Her soft

moans,thosehardlyaudiblewhimpersofhersburnaholerightthroughme.I’dgiveallthepizzainthe

worldtobealonewithherrightnow.

Aheavyflashcomesfromthelivingroom,andbothPoppyandIshareasmallvibrationofalaugh,

butourlipsremainconjoined,thetwoofuskissinglikeacoupleofthirteen-year-oldswhohavenoclue

whattodo.

PoppyandIhaven’tsetanylimitsonwhathappensbetweenthetwoofuswithourproperaudiencein

tow,andyetneitherofusseemsabletocrossthisline.ButIwantto.

EverythinginmedemandstocrossthelinewithPoppy.

END

oftheweekshowsupwaytoofast.EachmomentIspendwithPoppyseemslikeaflashinthe

pan.Soon,ourmothers’bigbirthdaybashwillbehere,andPoppywillbeboardinganotherflightbackto

L.A.

But tonight, the only place Poppy is headed to is the gala at the Grand Lodge Hotel where the

dignifiedladiesofPOTScelebrateayearofweightlossandcharitablegivingbywayofadecentsteak

andchickendinner.Poppyheadedoverwithherparents,soIoffermymotheraliftandwearriveatthe

event a solid twenty minutes late. In my defense, my mother had me run by the florist and pick up a

corsage.Allthewaytothehotel,shelamentedontheprinciplesofhowtotreatalady.

“Relax,”Isaytoherasweenterthenoblelookingestablishmentdeckedoutinenoughtwinklelights

tooutshinethesun.“I’msurewedidn’tmissdinner.”

“Oh,wewouldn’tmissdinner.Weneverhavedinneratthesekindsofevents.”

“What?WhytheheckamIhere?Ithoughtthere’dbesteakandpotatoes.ShouldIbebacktrackingto

theBurgerBarn?Becauseyou’renotgoingtolikemehungry.”

“Hush,wouldyou?Iknowallabouthowcrankyyoucangetwhendeniedagoodmeal.Trustme,I

stayedupatallhoursbreastfeedingyouforthefirsttwoyearsofyourlifejusttokeepyousatiated.”

“Andjustlikethat,I’velostmyappetite.”Beingbreastfedbymymother.Fuck.

“It’s a grazing event.” She claps her hands as if this were the best news in the world. “Lots of

appetizers,allthespaghettiyoucanfitinthatbellyofyours,andaspareproteinhereandthere.”Aspare

protein? Yes, the Burger Barn will very much be needed later this evening. “And be sure to open your

wallet,wouldyou?Allproceedsbenefitthelocalwomen’sshelter.”Shestraightensmytiejustbeforewe

enter the facility. The ballroom is bustling with bodies, mostly polished women—all of which are my

mother’scontemporaries—afewdapper,ratherunhappylookingmen.

“Grazing, huh?” Poppy comes to mind. Those long luscious legs, those sweet tits that have been

playingpeek-a-boowithmeallweekmakemymouthwater.

“Doyouseeher?”MomsoundsasanxioustospotPopsasIam.

“Nope.”

Shecranesherneckintoaseaofwomenalldressedinpastel.Softmusicdriftsthroughthespeakers,

andafewcouplesbravelydanceawaywhiletherestofthecrowdhangsontheperipherywithadrinkin

hand.

Mom swats me with her tiny sequined clutch. “Why in God’s name didn’t you pick her up? A true

gentlemanalwaysgoesoutofhiswayforalady.”

“Sheinsistedwemeethere.”Forthelifeofme,Ihavenoideawhy,butI’massumingithassomething

todowiththetwowe’reattemptingtobamboozle.

Andjustlikethat,theseaofpastelpartsdownthemiddle,andavisioninredcaptivatesmefromafar.

“Holyhell,”Iwhisper.

“Mary,Joseph,andPeter,”Momwhispers,justastakenbythebeautysmilingbackatusasIam.She

hands me the sickly carnation pinned to a giant spray of baby’s breath, and I head over in Poppy’s

direction.

Myfeetglideacrossthedancefloor,myeyesneverleavinghers.Poppy’ssmileexpandsear-to-earas

wecomeinclose,andIcan’tseemtocatchmybreathattheglorioussightbeforeme.Herhairiscurled

inlongsmoothwaves,herlipsaperfectshadeofrubythatmatchesherdress,andhertits—donotgetme

startedonhertits.Iletmyeyesdipdownforamoment,andmyboxersticktolife.

“Youarebeautiful.”Thewordspufffromme.

“Myboobssaythanks.Isthatforme?”Shesnatchestheflower,andIplayfullysnatchitrightback,

placingitonherhandliketheprincemymotherhaswarnedmetobe.

“You’remydate,Pops.Igettobethemantonight.”

“AreyouimplyingI’manythingbutalady?”

“I’mimplyingthatyou’veprobablyscaredoffyourfairshareofmenbypluckingtheflowersrightout

oftheirhands.”

Shebeltsoutalaughrightinmyface.“Andyouwouldberight.”Herlipsquiverasherexpression

turnstostone.“Youlookperfecttonight.”Herlasheslowerasifmyperfectionmanagedtobringdown

hermood.

“Ididitforyou.Shaved,too.”Itouchmyhandovermyface.“Smoothasababy’sbottom.”

Shebitesdownoverherlipwhilecarefullyplacingherpalmovermycheek.“Youdidthatforme?”

“Damnright.Didyoushaveanythingforme?”Idipmygazesouthforamoment,teasing.God,Ipray

sheknowsI’mteasing.

“Yeah,right.Anymanwho’swithmeneedstobeappreciativeofagoodold-fashionedcornmazeen

routetomyvagina.ThinkPlayboycirca1970.”

Iinchback,swallowingdownalaugh.“Didyoujustlikenyourbushtoacornmaze?”

“Didyoujustsaythewordbush?”

“Ibelieveyousaidvagina,whichtotallytrumpsbushinjustaboutanyvulgarcategory.”

Asoftrockinstrumentalfloatsthroughthespeakers,andIbobmyheadtotherhythm.“MayIhavethis

dance?”Iholdoutahand,oldschoolstyle,andacoupleofaudiblesighsgooffabouttenfeetbehindme.

It’sclearmymovesaremotherapproved.

“You may.” Poppy wraps an arm around my waist before setting her tiny hand in mine. Her hips

snuggleupagainstme,andwemoveasifourbodieswereasingleentity.“Ibetyou’rearegularatthe

POTSfundraiserswithmoveslikethis.”

“Nottrue,butafterthedonationImaketonight,Imightbebumpeduptotheofficialinvitelist.”

Shebeltsoutalaugh.“Soit’snotyourmovesthey’reafter.”Shewrinkleshernoseandlookscuteas

hell. “It must be tough navigating your way through life never knowing who’s really there for you as a

personratherthananextraordinarilybuiltATMmachine.”

“Soyou’resayingIhaveagoodbody.”

“I’m saying you qualify as a bank. You said you have a good body. By the way, you have an ego to

matchthatbankaccount.”

IletoutabarkinglaughandcatchmymotherandCharwhisperingtooneanotherfromthecornerof

myeye.

Withoutputtingtoomuchthoughtintoit,IdancePoppyovertotheotherendoftheroom.

“Hey,we’relosingouraudience.”Shetriestonavigateusback,butIprovetobestubborn.

“Maybe you’re all the audience I need tonight.” I swallow down the unexpected lump in my throat.

“Don’tworry.They’restillwatching.”

“Oh—good.”Herbreathingpicksupasifwejustdancedalaparoundthebuilding.

Ourbodiesslowtoahip-grindingcrawl,andsoonenoughwe’rehardlybreathing,letalonemovingto

themusic.

Mythumbbrushesoverherlipseversosoftly.ForsolongI’vethoughtofPoppyasaworkofartthat

demandstobeworshiped.I’dlovetodojustthat—worshipeverylastpartofherbeautifulbodywithmy

mouth,herperfectlips,thosetitsthathaven’tstoppedquiveringformethesecondshelandedinmyarms,

thoseperfectstemsshewalksovermyheartwith,allofher.Mymouthdemandstocovereverycreamy

inch.I’dlovenothingmorethantocarryherintomytruckanddriveusanywherebuthere.

MymouthfindsahomeagainstherbeautifulneckasItakeinherperfumeandpresssoftkissesallthe

wayuptoherear.“Whydidn’tyouletmepickyouup?”Myvoiceshakes.I’veneverbeensoaroused,so

thoroughlyachingtohavesomebody.

Poppy leans back as those velvet eyes of her press into mine. “Because I knew that I’d want to go

homewithyou.”

Andthereitis.Poppywouldcomehomewithme.Shewantsme,andshedoesn’t.IntypicalPoppy

fashion,she’ssendingmebothsignalsallatonce.

Athousandquestionsbegtosurface,andyetnotoneescapesmyvocalcords.Instead,Ileanin,and

she meets me there with a slight nod as if letting me know it’s okay to cross that invisible line we’ve

adheredtolikeapromise.

Mymouthcrashesoverhers,andIloseit.MytonguemeetswithhersasIslipintohermouth,anda

deepgutturalgroanthat’sbeenworkingitswayupforyearsisfinallyunleashed.Poppymeetsmeright

therewithherownhungrykissesthatonlyseemtogrowinurgencyasweswiminoneanother’smouths.

ThisisPoppyI’mkissing,EightBall,thegirlI’veclaimedasmyownforasfarbackasIcanremember.

How have we never done this before? And why in God’s name is it finally happening to a roaring

applausebustlingfrombehind?Wedeserveit,though.Thiskissdeserveseveryapplause,everywhoop

and holler anyone wants to offer. Poppy tastes sweet like peppermint as if she went out of her way to

welcomemetonight.Atleastthat’swhatI’dliketobelieve.

I’dliketobelievePoppywantssomethingmorethanjustafewmake-believekisses.Thatshe’sinthis

todomorethanimpressthelivinghelloutofourmothersbeforewepulltherugoutfromunderthem.But

she’sL.A.andI’mOakGrove.She’salwaysbeentheforbiddenone,andI’vealwaysacceptedthefact

shecouldneverbemine.

Butthiskiss…

Somethingisabouttochangebetweenus.Somethinghasalreadychangedbetweenus,andI’mloving

it.

I’mhopingshe’slovingit,too.

SEXCAPADES

POPPY

axsonStadekissedme!

Dies.Icanofficiallycrossthatoffmybucketlistofquasi-sexualthingstodo—notthatIwant

tostifleitfromeverhappeningagain.

God.Iknewoncehesteppedintothatroom,suittodiefor,longsilvertiethatdrippeddownlikea

leashladenwithdirtypromises,thathewastroubleincarnate—butthatface.Heshavedforme.Shaved!

I’mnotsurewhythehellhethoughtitwassomethingIneeded,butinastrangewayitwasexactlywhatI

neededtopushmeoverthesexualedge.Ibetheknowsthat.

WhoamIkidding?ThisisJaxsonStade.Ofcourse,heknowsalloftherightsexualbuttonstopushto

landagirlhorizontal.Andhorizontalisexactlywhereeverylastcellinmybodywantedtobe.Iknew

thatIknewthatIknewIwasweak.That’spreciselywhyIoptedtodrivewithmyparentsdowntothe

fancyshindig.IfIwaslookinghotterthanafirecrackerinSadie’sborrowedreddress,howcouldJaxson

Stadenotlooklikeamilliondollars?Scratchthat.JaxsonStadelookshisworthatabilliononanaverage

day.Lastnightwasgold.

AndifJaxhadpickedmeup,thatwouldmeanhewouldbetakingmehome,andthewaymyhormones

have been exploding all over Oak Grove as of late, I was too afraid I’d beg for him to take me in the

carnalsense.Notthatitwouldbethefirsttime—justthefirsttimeoutsideofmyoversexedimagination.

MackandSadiearemeetingmeforlunch,soIheadintotheStarryNightsBarandGrillandfinda

seatintheback.I’mchronicallyearlyeverywhereIgo,whichistypicallyagoodthing.ExceptforinL.A.

—in a world where people are chronically late, it’s been a disservice to me. I’m also chronically

overdressed,whichexplainstheknee-highbootswiththree-inchheels,myblackSevenjeans,andknee-

lengthblackpeacoat.BackinL.A.,nobodyblinksifyouwearblacktwenty-fourseven.Infact,it’sthe

officialuniformoftheentiredesignbusiness.ButinOakGrove,yougetlooksforsportingsuchahue-

deficientensemble,andeveryoneassumesyou’regoingtoafuneral.

Jaxcomestomind,andjustasquickasthatexuberanceovertookme,anoppressivesadnessweighs

medown.Agroupofgirlscomesin,laughing,talkingamileaminuteastheymaketheirwaytoatable

nearby.They’reallexceptionallybeautifulwiththeirperfectcurls,facesthatscreamodetoUlta,butfor

themostparttheycomeinallshapesandsizes.WhenIwasinhighschool,IusedtolamentthefactthatI

wasn’tJaxsonStade’stype.

It had never even occurred to me that this might be the case until Conner casually mentioned it one

day. I was having one of my many existential crises—this particular one revolving around the fact I

couldn’tgetguystonoticeme,noteventheformidableJaxsonStade.Andthat’swhenmybrothercameto

theexistentialrescueandassuredmethattherewasn’talip-glossonEarththatwouldmakethatboyblink

myway.Bythattime,ConnerandJaxwereprettytight,soItookhiswordasgospel.

But many years later, and now that I’m older and wiser, I’ve come to find out Jaxson doesn’t quite

have a type—more of a gender specific orifice—and in that sense, I do meet the bare minimum

requirements. Back in the day, and apparently, this translates to the present, Jax wanted to rub his nub

againsteverythingwithaholeinit,andforthemostparthefoundplentyofgirlswillingtodroptrou.Of

course,henevermadetheoffertome,andlastnightIfearedapropositionasmuchasIfearedanything

else.

SadieandMackstormintogether,allbundledupforthesnowapocalypsewithscarvestotheirnoses,

theirwinterparkasreadyforadayontheslopes.

“Aren’tyouMissSexy?”Mackgivesmeaquickkisstothecheekbeforedisrobing.

Sadie grunts, “She’s hot to trot, and according to reliable sources, set the Grand Hotel on fire last

night.”Shestripsdownaswellandfallsintotheseatacrossfromme.“Spill.”

“Hekissedme.”

Mackthumpsherglitteringsilvernailsoverthetable.“Wasthemommypatrolawareofthismistletoe

miracle?”

“Yes.”

“Thenitdoesn’tcount.”

“Mack!”Sadiecriesitoutforme.“Everythingcounts.”Sheturnsbacktome.“Tongueornotongue?”

“Tongue.Firsttime,anditwassensational!Thatboyhasatwo-footappendagehe’sharboringinthat

mouthofhis.Andtheprecisionthattipofferedassuredmeofprehensilethingstocome.”

“Meaningyou.”Sadiehasalwaysbeenageniuswhenitcomestofinishingmysluttysentences.

“Eww.”Mackswatsusbothwithamenu.“YoudorealizeI’mstillyoursister.Thiswasneverabout

gettingyoulaid.Thiswasaboutgettingeven.JaxsonStadeisaplayer.He’snottheboyforyou.”

Sadiegagsasshetriestogetherwordsout.“Thatmaybeso,buthe’stheboyforherrightnow.”

Mack shakes her head as if this were an impossibility. “She’s heading back to L.A. in a couple of

weeks.Poppydoesn’thavethetalentofshuttingoffheremotionslikesomepeople.”Shesneersatmyold

friendbeforeredirectinghergazemyway.“Donotgiveyourheartaway,anddonotsleepwithhim.This

is a direct order from your big sister. Don’t force me to have Conner write up a cease and desist to

Jaxson’sdick.”

“Would you stop with the penile legal threats?” I scan the vicinity in the event, God forbid, Jax or

Conner crops up and ruins our good time, or at least what would have been if not for this spontaneous

Mackattack.

“SpeakingofConner.”Mackleansinwiththatnaughtylookinhereye,andyoucanbetajuicymorsel

ofgossipisabouttodripfromhermouth.“WordontheStadeSteelstreetsis,he’sdatingagain.”

“Who?” Our brother doesn’t date by definition. He’s more of a mattress wrestler who likes to pin

themdownandreleasehiscaptiveaudiencebymorning.He’samanwhorepersonifiedrightalongwith

Jax.

Thewaitresscomesby,andweputinourorders.TwoChinesechickensaladsforMackandme,and

coffeeandasconeforSadie.Iwaituntilthewaitresstakesofftojudgemygoodfriendproperly.

“Coffeeandascone?”

“What?”Sadiemakesaface.“That’swhatIwanted.”

Mackgroans,“Thefactyou’reforcedtohavecoffeeatabarandgrillamplifiesthesadstateofOak

Grove’sslimeaterypickings.”

“I know, right?” Sadie gets that familiar gleam in her eye that usually spells out trouble. “The only

other option is Pine Crest Bakery, and it’s disgusting in there. Every time I go in, there’s a fly hanging

aroundthosedepressinglookingconfections.Thefloorisatoastedlinoleumfromthefiftiesthatactually

offendsme,andtheenamelfurnitureischippedandrusting.Godforbidyoucutyourselfwhilepullingout

achair.Youcangetlockjawandneverenjoyarealfreshcupofcoffeeagain.”

“WhyareweanalyzingthesadstateofjavainOakGroveandnotfocusinginonthefactConnerfound

someonetoeatasteakwith?”I’mthoroughlyconfused.

“Because.”Sadiebounceshershoulderstoherears.“Theinkjustdriedonmydivorce,andIgetmy

lumpsumsettlement—50K.”

SadieisperhapstheoneandonlypersoninOakGrovewho’seversignedaprenup.PeterHervy,her

officialfirstex-husband,isalandbaronshemetinDenver.Apparently,thepayoutofaone-yeargig,in

whichsheusedhimforlittlemorethanapersonalsitandspin,garneredheraniftylumpsum.

“Fiftythousand?”Iclaspmychest.“Geez.WhydidImovetoL.A.whenIshouldhaveruntoDenver

and landed the first Perv I saw horizontal?” I give a little wink. “What are you going to do with the

money,honey?”

“Invest.” Sadie does sparkle when she’s getting her green on. “In myself. I’m going to open Oak

Grove’sfirstcoffeeshopandusherusintothenewmillennium—roastedespressostyle.”

“Sweet.”Mackgivesherahighfive.“Nowthatthekidsareinschool,I’dbehappytobeyourfirst

barista.”

Sadie and Mack whoop it up like they just won the latte lottery, and in a way they did. Oak Grove

reallycanuseanicecupoffreshbrewedheaven.

I tap the back of my fork to the table. “So back to Conner.” My brother has had his fair share of

women. He’s a less sexually aggressive version of his BFF Jax, but just as appealing to the ladies

becausehe’shandsome,ifIdon’tsaysomyself,andhetoutsameanlegaldegree.“Whoisthishussy?”I

suck in a breath at my bestie. “Is it you? Are you the hussy that’s dating my brother?” The words

practicallyburstfrommewithpride.IknowthatSadieandmewillalwaysbeclose,buttohaveheras

myofficialsister-in-lawonedaywouldbemagic.

The waitress brings our food and Sadie’s less than lackluster mug of coffee, and we all frown

knowinglyatthedesperatestateofjavainoursmalltown.

“It’snotSadie.”Mackshakesherhead.“Conner’sshinynewtoyisLarissaDebeers.”

“Larissa?” All of those feel-good vibes I was sending Sadie’s way hit a brick wall. “But she’s

Jaxson’sho.Infact,she’sprobablywaitinginthewingsformetoflybacktoL.A.soshecanlatchonto

hisankleandbeghimforanotherrideonthatpogostickhe’sgotinhisboxers.”

“Jaxson’sho?”Macklooksdisgustedatthethought,assheshould.“It’sonethingtoshareyourtoys

andawholeothertoshareyourbedmates.Hecan’tsleepwithherifshesleptwithJax.”

Sadienearlyblowshercoffeeoutofhernose.“Thatcrossesoutninetypercentoftheeligiblegirlsin

OakGrove.”

Mackgetssquirrelyatthethought.“MaybeweshouldshipConnerofftoL.A.forawhile?”

“Maybeyoushouldstopplayingmatchmaker.”Istabmyforkinherdirectionbeforetakingabiteof

thebestChinesechickensaladthissideofLosAngeles.StarryNightsreallyisaculinarytreasure.

Herphonebuzzes,andshegroansintoit.“Igottarun.Benhasafever,andIneedtopickhimupfrom

school.Wouldyouboxthisupformeanddropitbythehouse?”

“Notaproblem.”

She throws on her jacket before leaning in to kiss me goodbye. “Perfect! And no getting M.C.

Hammered with Jaxson Stade. I bet his mattress is harboring something far more exotic than bedbugs.

And,honey,I’madamngoodmatchmaker.Andpermymatchmakingrules,nosleepingwithanyoneuntil

heputsaringonit.Itonlyleadstobrokenheartsandprenups.”

“Amentothat,”Sadieshoutsaswewavemysisteroff.

Ineedlemygazeatmylongtimefriend.“Youreallybelievethat?”

“Darnright.”Sadiesalutesmewithherstalecoffee.“Butagirl’sgotneeds.”Shesinksinherseatas

shecradlesthatsadlookingmug,andsuddenlywe’rebothlostinthought,seeminglyequallydepressed

oversaidneeds.

“Confession.” I blow the hair out of my face. “My vagina hasn’t had a gentleman caller in nearly a

year.IfIdon’tfindawillingpenissoon,I’llhavetoscaledowntoasiliconemodel.”

“Trustme,they’resolifelikeyouwon’tknowthedifference.”

“Myheartwill.”

“Ifyou’relookingtosatisfyyourheart,thenMackisright—youriskgettingitbroken.”

Tears come, and I’m quick to blink them away. I shake my head in lieu of words because there’s a

painfulheart-shapedknotsittingatthebaseofmythroat.

I hate that Jaxson still has the power to take my emotions, my will, my better judgment for a ride

withoutanyconsiderationformybeatingheart.That’salwaysbeenourdownfall.Icaretoomuch,andhe

seemstocaretoolittle.

“Hey”—Sadiepullsmyentireseatclosertohers—“maybeMackisright.MaybesleepingwithJaxis

abadidea.Yourheadisalittletoomuchintothiswholething.It’sstillajoke,right?”

Iopenmymouth,butnotawordcomesout.

“Oh,hon”—Sadiewrapsanarmaroundme—“It’snotajokeanymore,isit?”

Ishakemyhead.“Idon’tthinkiteverwas.”

“Do everyone involved a favor and hold off finding a willing penis. Jaxson might be ready and

willing, but if he knew how you felt, he’d never want to hurt you. You’re not some dime a dozen Oak

Grovebackseatdebutante.Youusedtobehisentireworld.Andwhenthatgoodtimeended,Istillhadto

listentoyoudrooloverhim.Igetit.He’salwaysbeenyourworld,too.”Herhotpinklipsquiver.“ButI

don’tthinkJaxsonStadeisthepersonyoubuilthimuptobeinyourmind,Pops.Havefunwithhimforthe

allottedtimeyouhaveleft.Butmaybeusethisasawaytosaygoodbyetothatmonstrousimageyouhave

ofhiminyourmind.He’sjustaperson.Ahuman.Aman.”Shemakesthewordmansoundasdisparaging

aspossible.“Havealittlefunbutnottoomuch.Drawalineinthesexualsandandstayonyoursideof

thepervertedsand.”

“I’llhavefunallright.ThenI’llgetbacktoL.A.andresumemycelibatelifestyle.I’mgoingtobea

spinster.”

Sadiebeltsoutalaugh.“Thatwentfromherotozero,realquick.You’renotgoingtobeaspinster.

You’re too pretty and smart for that. A battery-operated boyfriend can only take you so far. And by the

way,I’llgetonthehornandgetonesentouttoyouasap.”

“Thanks.You’rearealfriend,SadieRichards.”Ipullherin,andwetakeamomenttoholdeachother

like a couple of lost children. Mack is right. I shouldn’t give my heart away, but it’s too late for that. I

pluckeditoutofmychestwhenIhadbarelycrestedkindergartenandhandedittotheonlyboyIwould

evertrulylove.

Thisisn’tajokeanymore.

Itneverwastobeginwith.

ENTIRE

DAY

driftsbyandnowordfromJaxson.NotthatImadeanefforttostalkhimdownathisoffice

onceagaineither,butstill.He’stheonethatprobedmymouthwithhistongue.Hedrewfirstmember.It

shouldbehimmakingtheeffort.

Thenjustpastnoon,myphonebouncesovertheverybedIusedtocryriversforthatboy,andit’sa

textfromJaxsonStadehimself.

Headedout.Snowmobiling,deepcountry.Newtoy.Wannacome?

Jaxalwaysdidtextlikehehadsuddenlymorphedintoarobot.

Itextrightback.Deepcountry?ArethefineresidentsofOakGrovepopulatingthebackwoods

thesedays?Ifnot,whoevershallweentertain?Alloftheotherexcursionswe’vepartakeninhave,in

someroundaboutfashion,involvedourmothers.Evenifourmothersweren’taroundfortheshow,there

was someone from this one cow town who would surely report back to the devious duo. As fun as

trekkingthroughthewoodsatahundredmilesanhourwhilemyponytailfreezessolidsounds,I’mpretty

sureajauntthroughanicewarmbookstoreonMainStreetwouldbefarmorebeneficialtothecause.

Ifwe’relucky,adeer.Unlucky,abear.Youin?

Waitaminute.Jaxsonisasmartboy.Surely,herealizeswe’llbekneedeepinprivacy.Maybe…

He texts back as if reading my mind. Let’s take a break from the Jax and Pop’s Show and get

someseriousfuninbeforeyouheadhome.

Home,asinL.A.Ofcourse.JaxknowsI’mnothangingaround.Thisisallforshow.Itsayssoright

hereinblueandwhite.

Ohhell.What’salittlefunbetweenfriends?

I’min.

SHOCKINGLY

,JaxsonStadestunsinabrightredskijacketasmuchashedoesinacustomItaliansuit.

IparkinhisridiculouslygrandcirculardrivewaybettersuitedforBeverlyHillsthanOakGrove,but

IwouldtotallyrockthecirculardrivewayinOakGroveifgivenhalfthemoneytheStade’shave.

Jaxson comes over and offers me a platonic high five. “Let’s do this!” he shouts with all the

excitementofaNASCARdriver.Speakingofhighspeedshenanigans…

“Ihaven’tdrivenoneoftheseinyears!”IgivealittlehopwhenIsayitbecauseitjustsohappensI’m

equally as psyched as he is. Jax and I spent our formative years on the backs of a demonic motorized

sleigh. And later, after the great divide in our relationship, Conner took my place on those backcountry

snowrides.IresentedJaxfornotinvitingme,butIgotit.Andtoday,Igotaninvitationaswell.

“Cool.”Hewalksusovertoalargeorangecontraption.“We’lltaketurns.”

I’veneverseenasnowmobilebeastofthisstatureandnature.Newtoyindeed.Itlooksasifitcould

glidestraighttotheNorthPolewithoutanyeffort.

“Isthiswhathappenswhenatractorandasnowmobilehavebabies?”

“Thatwouldbeit.”Helaughswhilehelpingmewithahelmetcompletewithafaceshield.

“Areyoukidding?Idon’twanttowearthis,”Isay,pluckingitrightoff.“Iwon’tlookcool.Andis

thisouroneandonlyride?Wereyoubeingliteralwiththewhole‘we’lltaketurns’thing?”Backinthe

day,wedidn’twearhelmets,andweneversharedavehicle.Wewerestupidandgreedythatway.

“Yes,I’mbeingliteral.”Hefrownsashepressesthehelmetbackonmyhead.“Andyouknowwhat’s

cool?Keepingyourbraininyourskull.Besides,nooneisgoingtoseeus,remember?”Adevilishgrin

spreadstothosefreshlystubbledcheeks.“Unless,ofcourse,it’smeyou’retryingtoimpress.Andifso,

you’llhavetotryharderbecauseyoulooklikeatotalhelmetheadrightnow.”

“Veryfunny.”

Jaxhelpsmeontotheoversizedsnowmobileandhopsinfrontdonninghisownhorrifichelmet.He

takes my arms and wraps them around his chest, and I don’t protest the fact. Jax feels stable and rock

solidevenstuffedinsidehistoastydownjacket.I’dsayadayofholdingontoJaxisadaywellspent.

Hestartsupthebeast,andweheadoutslow.Soon,we’reoffglidingonthemoundsoffreshlyfallen

snowthat’sgracingtheStadeproperty.TheStade’sownsomuchland,Idoubtwe’llevenventureoffthe

estate.

Webypasstheoldguesthouse,whichnowbelongstoJulesandJensen.JustseeingthewayJaxsonis

aroundhisnephewmakesmewanttofalltomykneesandbeghimtoplantbeautifulStadebabiesinside

me. He was so sweet and loving, not to mention positive and supportive, and I gleaned all that in the

small window Jensen knocked over his ice cream cone the other day after we picked him up from

daycare.Icanimaginethatoneday,whentherightgirlcomesaround,Jaxwillbeanamazingfather.

Soonenough,we’reinthehillcountry,sofarawayfromCasaStadethatthemagnificentmenaceofa

houseismerelyaspeckonthehorizon.It’sjustJaxandI,havingfun,beingourselves.Itaphimoverthe

shoulder,andheslowsitdown.

“Let’sswitch!”Ishoutupovertheroarofthemotorandfogupmymask.

Withoutputtingupafight,Jaxtradesplaceswithme.Hegivesmeaquicktutorialonallthingsstop

andgo,andjustlikethat,we’reoff.Itakeitslow,likereallyslow,likefieldmicearewalkingbackand

laughingslow,butthereareacraptonoftrees,andlikeJaxsuggested,mybrainlooksfarbetterinmy

uncrackedskull.

“Speeditup,”heshoutsfrombehind.Damnbackseatdriver.“Whatareyou—achicken?”

Isuckinaquickbreath.Heknowsthatnobodybutnobodyiseverallowedtocallmeachicken.It’s

practically a command for making me do the very thing I loathed to try. I’m very Arthur Fonzarelli that

way.Andforthoseofyoutooyoungtorememberthereference,youshouldtotallylookupHappy Days

and watch it sometime. I promise there’s not a hair pulling skank in sight, and the worst putdown they

havetoofferissitonit.Itreallyputsthingsintoperspectivewhenmymotherreferencestoday’strashTV.

“I’mnochicken,Stade.Butsoon,youwillbe.”Irevtheengineforamomentbeforewetakeoffata

neck-jerkingpace.Itraverselowandhighterrainalike,dodgingoversizedtreetrunksandbramblingoaks

alike.Ispotaclearingupaheadthatlookslikesnowmobileheaven,andIstartinthatdirection,butan

entire thicket of evergreens stands in our way of snow speed nirvana. The only option left is a steep

inclinetoourright,andIpullforwardabittomakesurethere’sadeclinethatfollows.I’mnotaboutto

plungeustoourdeathbywayoftryingtojumpthesharktogetthere.See?That’sanotherHappy Days’

referenceyouprobablydidn’tget.Gowatchit.Really,youwon’tregretit.

“Idon’tknowaboutthis,”Jaxsongrumbles,butIrevtheengineonceagainandspinusinaneatcircle

beforebuildingthespeedweneedaswecrestthe—

“Ohshit!”Wehitthetopoftheridgesofastthebackofthesnowmobilecatchesandjackknifesallthe

waydowntheembankmentbecauseit’scleartheidiotdriverhasnocluewhatinthehellshe’sdoing.

JaxsonandIareejected,fallingwithinfeetofoneanotherinajumbleoflimbs.

“Poppy!”AmuffledcrycomesfrommyleftbeforeJaxsonappearsbeforeme,flippingoffhishelmet

onlytorevealtherifelookofworryonhisface.“Areyouokay?”Hefallstohiskneesandunbucklesmy

helmetfromundermychin,andIflickitrightoff.

“IthinkI’mdead.”Ihikeuponmyelbowsintimetoseehimfrown.

“Shit.Youcouldhavekilledus.”

“Saysthemoronwholetmedrive.”Itrytoexecuteasmartassgrin,butithurtstonavigatemyfacein

thatdirection.

Hefallsnexttomeinthesnow,hisarmpartiallyovermybody.“That’sbecauseIcan’tsaynotoyou.

Areyouhurt?”

“I’mfine.”Andapparently,Iliketolie,too.“Hey—howcomeIcan’twigglemytoesanymore?”

“Stop.”Aslowchucklecomesfromhim.“IthinkI’lltakeoveralldrivingdutiesfromhereonout.I

guesstherearen’ttoomanyplacestokeepupyoursnowmobilegameinL.A.”

“NotthatI’mawareof.Ihaven’tbeenkeepingtoomanyofmygamesup.”Isettlebackintothesnow.

Not sure why I’m confessing this to Jaxson of all people. The truth is, I’m still in a funk after that

conversationIhadyesterdaywithSadieandMack.

“ButIbetyou’rehittingitbigwiththeboys,right?”

“Nope. I’m not really. But no worries. Sadie says she’s getting me a battery-operated boyfriend to

takebackhomewithme.”

“What?”Helookssimultaneouslyturnedonanddisgustedbytheidea.

Iswathimoverthearm.“Don’tjudgeme.Agirlcan’tgetawaywithhavingcarnalfeverlikeyouand

Conner.Andwouldyouslowdownalready?Yourfuturewifeisgoingtobereallybummedwhenyour

penisfallsoffoneday.”

Hemakesaface.“It’snotgoingtofalloff.I’mslowingmyroll.”

“SoIsee.I’vetotallyputadamperonyourgirlgame,but,likeallthingsinlife,thistooshallpass.I

betyou’llcelebrateafterthebigrevealandplungeyourjoystickintoeverysocketyoufind.”

Hewinces.“Soundsdeadly.IthinkI’llpass.”Jaxexhales,andhismintyfreshbreathwarmsme.He

cupsmycheekinhispalmamomentbeforerubbinghisthumbovermylipssoftasasnowflake.

“Whatisthis,adressrehearsal?”Mycheeksburstintoflamesastheyrivalthesun.Myheartstarts

panic-kickingitswayoutofmychestasifsomethingverybadwereabouttoensue.Myhearthasnever

beenagoodbarometerofthingstocome.It’suntrustworthyandfickle,andmostofall,fragileashell.

“Howdidyouenjoythatkisstheothernight?”hesaysitsoft.Hiseyeslatchontominelikeliferafts,

and I can’t seem to let go. His dark hair contrasts the crisp white background, demanding that I pay it

attention,thoseeyes,thosedeepredlips,everylastpartofJaxdemandsthatIfocusinonhim.

“Ienjoyedthehelloutofit.”There’stheunderstatementofthecentury.

“Good”—hewhispers—“becauseI’mgoingtodoitagain.”Jaxleansineversoclose,waitinguntil

theverylastsecondtoclosehiseyes,thatsexygrinbuildingonhisface.Hegrazeshislipsovermineand

pullsbackgaugingmyreaction,hislidsstilllowandheavy.ButI’veseenthattwitchinggrinonhisface

before. Jax is not waiting for permission to enter. He knows he already has that. It’s the same twitchy

smileheusedtogivewhenwewerekidsandI’dwanthimtogetonwithwhateverhewasdoing.Once,

weweretrekkingdownasnow-coveredhill,muchlikethesuicideslopewejustendured,andIbegged

himtopushmysled.Ofcourse,herocket-launchedmeinanattempttoperfectthefirstlunarlanding,but

that’sbesidethepoint.Thoselipsarecomingatmeagain—andohmyGod,heretheycome!

Jaxpresseshislipsovermineandlingersinaslowcircularfashionbeforepullingawayoncemore.

“How’sthatfeel,EightBall?”hewhispersthroughhisunsteadypanting.

Iswallowhard,lookingupateyesthatrivaltheskyforthatprecioushue.“Itfeelslikeyouforgothow

tosliponeinthepocket.”

“What?”Heinchesbackanotch,andjustlikethat,I’vebrokenthedreamyspellthathadhimpecking

atmylips.

“Um”—aweirdchokingsoundemitsfromme—“nevermind.Iwasjust.”

“You were just hoping I’d do this.” He pumps out a dry laugh, no smile as he comes in for the kill

onceagain.Jaxlandshismouthovermineandpriesmylipsopenwiththeflickofhistongue.Heswims

in and meets me there, soft and slow, so achingly deliberate, it’s as if he’s taking the time to introduce

himself.Therealhim.Today,thereisnoJaxandPop’sShow.It’sjustthetwoofusinthesnow—kissing.

Hepullsback,andthatsmirkheworeamomentagohascompletelydissolvedtonothing.

“Howwasthat?”

Ican’thelpbutshedacrookedgrin.“Areyouusingmetosharpenyourskills?BecauseI’mameanas

hellinstructor.AndIdon’tgradeonacurve.”God,I’msuchanidiot!Whydoesmyjawkeepflapping?

Anyothergirlwouldhaveshuttheeffupandlethimhavehiswaywithher—butno,Ihavetobeatdown

everysituationwiththebaseballbatofsarcasm.

Adulllaughhuffsthroughhischest.“Nope.Ijustwonderedifyouwantedmorefromtheothernight—

likeIdid.”

Likehedid?

“Here,letmehelpyouup.”Heoffersmeahand,butIpullhimdowntomebythebackofhisneck.

“Notsofast.”Mychestpumpsviolently.Mypantinggrowswild.I’mmorethanafraidImightpass

out.“Ididn’tgetmyfill.”Ipullhismouthdownovermine,andit’saclashofdulllaughter,ofteeth,of

untamablefrenziedkisses.It’squitepossiblythesloppiest,mostdelicious,sweetest,mostheavenlykiss

ofmyentirelife.

I pull his body over mine, welcoming him onboard with a squeeze. Jaxson moans as his tongue-

lashingintensifies.Hismouthslipsdownashegentlytakesabiteofmylowerlip,andIdiethedeathofa

thousandminiorgasms.Bliss.LyinginthefrozentundrainthebackwoodsofOakGrovewiththeprince

ofthecountyhimselflyingontopofmeisheavenpersonified.

Hishandsmovedownmyjacketashetriestogainentrytoanylivingpartofme,butIcouldn’tbe

morehermeticallysealedifItried.Atanktop,aturtleneck,athermal,asweater,andadownjacketthat

may as well come with a barbed wire fence. This boy isn’t getting anywhere near my lady goods. And

don’t get me started on the double yoga pant debacle going on underneath my snow pants. I’m already

resigned to the fact I’ll be losing fingernails when it’s time to peel all of these formidable layers off.

Leaveittometodonanoutfitthatrequiressecurityclearanceandapantyaccesscodethatneitherofus

canconquer.

Jaxsonpullsuponhiselbow,pantingawarmstormoverme.“Didyourfatherdressyou?”

“No.Connerdid.”

We share a small laugh at my brother’s expense. Honest to God, if given half the chance, Conner

wouldhavedressedmeexactlythisway.Okay—sohemighthaveincludedacombinationlock,butitso

wouldnothavebeenneeded.Theelastic,latex,spandex,Lycranightmarecomboisenough.

“Allright.”Hewinces.“MaybeweshouldgetbackbeforeIgetinareallyhardsituationthere’sno

gettingoutof.”

Iglancedowntohisjeansandspotacucumber-likegrowthalreadypresentingaproblem.

“Wecanhaveasnowballfight.”Ibitedownovermybottomliptokeepfromlaughing.“Icanthrow

snowatyourcrotchinanefforttoscareitaway.”

“Poppy.”Hisdimplesdigin,butyoucanseethepaininhiseyesatthethought.

“Comehere.”IpullhimincloseandlaughrightoverhismouthasIworkhisjeansopen.

“Whatareyoudoing?”Thosedarkbrowstwitch,andsomethinginmeloosens.ForsolongJaxsonhas

ownedme,andforjustonemomentI’dlovetoownhim.

“I’manexpertatgettingboysoutofhardsituations.”

“Areyoutryingtomakemevomit?”

“Okay,sothatwasalie.”Myhandshitflesh,andIdive-bombintohisboxersandpaydirt.Holycow,

JaxsonStadereallydoeshaveacucumberinhispants.“Wow,thisisareally,reallybigproblem.”My

pantinghitsitszenithasIcarefullywrapmyhandsaroundhisratherimpressivegirth.Thenithitsme.I’m

touchingJaxsonStade’spenis.Hiswilly,wiener,wanker,lovewand—ispresentlythrobbinginagranite-

like fashion, safe in my palms. And just like that, the sarcastic bitch in me douses her flame, and the

momentgrowsserious,beautifulinthestrangestsense.

“Shit,” he hisses. Jax closes his eyes as his mouth falls over mine, bouncing over my cheek with

unsteadykisses.“Youdon’thavetodothis.”

“OnceIcommittosomething,youcan’tstopme.”

Adrylaughpushesfromhim.Heleansuptogetagoodlookatme.“Whatarewedoing?”

“I’m helping a friend out of a hard situation.” My eyes lock with his, and there’s sadness mirrored

betweenus.

“Helpingafriend,”hewhispersashismouthfallsovermineinafury.

Myhandsrideupoverthelengthofhim,takinginhisridges,thetendertip.

Jaxsonunleashesafrenzyoffeveredkisses,andImeethimrightthere.Hereweare,justthetwoof

us.Novoyeurs,nopretenses.

Just—friends.

JAXSON

herehavebeentimesinmylifethatIhavenotbeenproudofmyactions.Therehavebeentimesin

my life that I have questioned what in the hell I was thinking. But that moment in the snow with Poppy

wasn’toneofthem.

Therationalpartofmesuggesteditshouldbe.Theirrationalpartofmesuggesteditwasperfectand

right—and that if I were at all honest, I would own up to the fact that it was a moment we had been

barrelingtowardforaverylongtime.

Yes,Ishouldhavestoppedwiththekiss.Butdamn—Poppy’skissesareaddictiveashell.Assoonas

Ihadonehit,Iknewtherewasnogoingback.Andthenthingsgotdifficult,andsheagreedtohelpout—as

afriend.Ithinkwebothknowthatwasn’tafriendlygesture,notonherpart,notonmine.Notanyofit.

WhatIdon’tgetis,what’swiththewall?Whatisthisinvisibleforcethat’sconstantlytryingtokeepus

fromhappening?

I get it, though. A long distance deal would be tough. Plus, this is new. We’ve gone from never

speakingtooneanothertopickinguprightwhereweleftoffandthensome.Itaketheblameforthat.Once

I noticed she was freezing me out after graduation, I should have stepped up and given her a call—

encouragedhertocomeoutfortheholidays—especiallythosethatmymotherhosted.Shemissedallof

those,and,inturn,missedoutonherownfamilybecauseofme.Shewasn’tavoidingmymother.Shewas

avoidingseeingmyfaceatthetable.

AsfarasIcanrecall,therewerethreemajoreventsthatwedgedadividebetweenus.Thefirstand

foremost damning would be our mothers. Their constant, incessant, nagging while trying to meld us

together since birth had eroded the landscape for anything that could have ever been. They managed to

castapallonourrelationshipbeforeiteverhadachancetogetstarted.Thesecond—asridiculousasit

sounds—wouldbePoppy’sunrequitedcrushonMilesFrampton.It’schildishinhindsight,buthavingthe

hottestgirlyouknow,theoneyouwanttobewithmorethananyoneelse,tellyouthatshehasitbadfor

thecenteronourmediocrebasketballteamwasablowthatmyfifteen-year-oldegocouldn’tquitehandle.

Andthethirdquakethattookusdownwentdownrightafteroursenioryearculminated.Itinvolvedan

alcohol-soakedgraduationparty—oneIdon’tcaretothinkabout.

TheStarryNightsBarandGrillislockedandloadedwithpeopletonight,elbowtoelbow,standing

room only—not unusual on a Friday night. Hunter says its runoff business from Denver. Mostly college

kidslookingfortheappealofasmalltownthat’smilesawayfromtheirprofessors.

Ibellyuptothebarandfindafreeseatontheend.Huntercomesoverwiththatshit-eatinggrinonhis

facebecausehe’srakingitinthisevening,andheknowsit.

“What’sup,myman?”Heslapsmefiveandpoursmeabeerwithoutasking.“Youdorealizeyou’ve

pissedoffmorethanhalfmyclientele.”

Iglancearoundatthegirlscongregatinginfrontofthelivebandasitbleedsoutasappycountrysong.

“Itlooksasifthey’verecovered.”

“That’swhatyouthink.I’vehadLarissacomingaroundgettingshit-faced,cryinginherwhiskeyover

thefactyouchoseL.A.Barbieoverher.Notmywords,dude.”

Adulllaughthumpsthroughme.L.A.Barbie.Poppycertainlyfitsthebill,butshe’smoreofanOak

Grovebeauty—anoriginalatthat.I’vealwaysappreciatedthefactshedidn’ttrytoohard,definitelynot

toobigonthewarpaint.Poppyismorethegirlnextdoor.Thegirlwhostolemyheart.

“So,wherearethingswiththetwoofyou?”Hunterleansinwithanearnestnessandsubtleinquisition

thatonlyabartendercanprovide.Orinthiscase,mygoodfriendgoingasfarbackasgradeschoolcan

provide.

Andjustlikethat,hegetseverylastdetailfromme.Allofit.Thepracticaljokewe’retryingtopull

overonourmothers,thatkissatthedance,thisafternooninthesnowwithherhandsdownmypants.

“Shit.”Hunterlookshorrifiedforme.“Howdidyouleaveoff?”

“Itookherbacktohercar,andIsaidthankyou.”

“Yousaidthankyou?”Helaughsashepicksupabeerbottleandknocksitbackasifheneededa

drink himself after hearing it. “Dude, you should have at least taken her to dinner tonight. That’s pretty

cold.”

JustasI’mabouttotellhimthatIthrewouttheoffer,afamiliarfacepopsupbesideme—Conner.

HunterandIdefusequickly.

“Don’t let me ruin your good time.” He points to my beer, and Hunter is quick to oblige. “Unless

you’relaughingatmysister.ThenI’mprettydamngladtobreakuptheparty.”

“Nobodyislaughingather.”Hunterholdsuphishands,lookingguiltyassin.

“IlikePoppy.”IlookrightathimwhenIsayit,andaboilingragebegstoignite.“Yougotaproblem

withthat?”

Connerbuckswithasilentlaugh.“IguessIdo.”Theseatnexttomeopensup,andConnertakesit.

“Dude,whatareyoudoingwithmysister?Youdon’ttalkforyears—andIknowthisbecauseIspeakto

bothofyouonaregularbasis,andsuddenlyyou’reinseparable.I’mshockedshe’snotheretonight.Isaw

heratthehouse.Shesaidyoutookheroutsnowmobiling.”

That smirk on my face disappears real quick. “She say anything else?” I don’t bother with my next

breath.Apartofmeneedstohearthatshe’sokay.

Hestaresoutatthecrowdamoment,butIknowConnerwellenoughtorealizehe’sstalling.“Iasked

herwhatthiswasabout,andshesaidshelikesyou.Thatshe’salwayslikedyou.”

She likes me. She also likes ice cream and puppies so that makes things clear as mud. I know that

she’sbentonkeepingourarrangementfromherbrothersothatanswerdoesn’tsurpriseme.

HunterpushesabeertowardConner.“Whereisshe?Shecomingdowntonight?”

“I don’t think so.” Conner nods a quick thanks for the drink. “She’s done for the day—PJs on, the

wholenineyards.Shesaidshemightbecatchingacold.Shewaskindofdown.She’sprobablymissing

homeorsomething.”

HunterglancesmywaylikeImightberesponsibleforthefactPoppyisfeelingdown.AndI’mpretty

sureIam.

After about ten minutes of switching gears and talking shop, I excuse myself for the night. I glance

backjustasI’mabouttotakeoffandfindbothSadieRichardsandLarissadouble-teamingConner.That

happy-go-luckylookjumpsrightbackonhisfacewhereitbelongs.IcareaboutConner.JustlikeIcare

aboutPoppy.That’swhyI’mheadedofftodowhatI’maboutto.

Butinsteadofheadingoutthedoor,Iheadforthekitchen.

ONSIDERING

it’salmostteno’clock,IoptfortextingPoppyratherthangivinghersleepingparentsaheart

attackinwhatamountstothemiddleofthenighttothem.

Downstairs.Letmein?Please.:)

IthoughtI’dbettertagitwithpleaseandahappyface.I’mgettingthefeelingI’monhershitlist,and

ifI’mnot,Iprobablyshouldbe.

Aminutegoesby,thentwo.Alightswitchesonintheentry,andafacepeersoutfromtheblurryglass

doorbeforeitswingsopenwide,revealingthemoststunningwomanontheplanet.

“What are you doing here?” Poppy Montgomery stands there with her hair in a ponytail, pink fuzzy

slippers—but those PJs, they’re white and silky, and right about now they’re daring my fingers to pet

them.“Andwhatisthatinyourhands?”

“Peaceoffering.”Shit.CouldIthinkbeforeIspeak?“Imean,agetwellgift,sortof.Chickensoup—

freshfromStarryNights.Huntersendshislove.”Great.Herbuddyfromthebarsendshislove,butthe

man she helped out this afternoon can’t even get a proper hello in. “Hey, hello.” Crap. “I mean”—I

scratchatthebackofmyheadamoment—“wouldyoumindifIcomein?”

“Absolutely!Here,I’lltakethis.”Andjustlikethat,everythingfeelsnormalbetweenus.

“There’s a spoon in there for you,” I whisper. “I was going to bring it up to your room. Conner

mentionedyoufeltlikeyouwerecomingdownwithsomething.”

“Oh,right.”Hereyesenlargeforamoment.“Um,Iwasactuallyinmyroom.Lame,Iknow.Butwe

cangointothekitchenifyouwant.OrIcantakeyouupforthegrandtour.IactuallyrediditjustbeforeI

moved.ItwasmyattempttoprovetomymotherthatIwasatrueadult.”

“Howdoesoneproveadulthoodviarearrangingroomfurniture?”

“You’reforgettingit’smyspecialty,”sheteases.“Butintheeventcuriosityisabouttobiteyourballs

off,Iframedastillshotofthestockmarketandhungitprominentlyabovemybed.”

“AshotofWallStreet?”I’mnotsureifIshouldbeimpressedorperplexed.I’mleaningtowardthe

latter.

Sheshrugsalittleandlooksdownrightadorableintheprocess.“Ofthestockfeed.Itookitwithmy

phone and printed it out. It’s blurry, and silly, but in my defense, I had senior-itis that year and wasn’t

thinking rationally. Anyway, she must have bought it because she commended me on all the mature

changes I made. I kept the stuffies, though. If you say a word, you die.” She leads me upstairs—to the

apparent“stuffie”haven—andI’manxioustosoakitallin.

I’ve been at the Montgomery’s more times than I can count, but the sacred upstairs has been pretty

much off limits. After Conner moved out, there was no reason to venture on up. One summer during a

barbeque,therewasalineatthedownstairsbathroom,andIvolunteeredtoheadupstairs.Atthatpoint,I

hadn’tseenPoppyinyears,and,ofcourse,shewasn’tthere.ButIcravedher.Insteadofheadingleftto

thebathroom,ImadearightandbumpedintoCharlenewhogentlycorrectedmyerrorbeforeIcouldever

hitPoppy’sbedroom.Itwasastupidideatobeginwith.WhatwasIgoingtodo?Touchherthingslikea

stalker?Hell,Iprobablywas.Iwantedtosmellher—feelherifonlythroughherpillowcase.Iwantedto

rubmyfaceinherclothesandletmyheartshatterthoroughlyatthetragedythathadbecomeofus.

ThesecondflooroftheMontgomeryhomeisL-shapedwiththemasterbedroomatthesmallbaseof

theletterandthreemorebedroomsdownthelongstretchofthehallway.Conner’sroomfirst,thenMack’s

oldroom,thenjackpot.

Poppyglancesbackatmewithamischievouslookinhereyesbeforeopeningthedoor,andIfeellike

akidbeingletlooseinachocolatefactoryfortheveryfirsttime—thinkopeningdayatWillyWonka’s,

andI’msuddenlyfeelingalotlikeAugustusGloop.Onlyitisn’tchocolateIwanttosinkmyteethinto.It’s

Poppy.She’ssocuteandinnocenttonight,andthatsilk—Iwanttopullherinandneverletgo.

TheroomisstillaspinkasIremember—theoldtwinbedwithafrillylacecanopyhasbeenreplaced

withabiggersleighbed,andalargescreentelevisionsitsmountedonthewallinfrontofit.

Poppy puts the soup down and hops onto the bed. An entire row of stuffed animals bounces up and

downasifextendingtheirowngreeting.Isitdownbesideherandsnatchupabrightgreendragon.

“Rememberthat?”Shescootsinasweleanagainsttheheadboardtogether.

“Hellyes,Irememberthis.Igaveittoyou.Iwanteditformyself,andmymothersaidIwastooold,

butyouhadabirthdaycomingupandshesaidIcouldgetitforyou.”

“Uh-huh,andeverytimeyoucameover,youmadeabeelinetowardFreddy.”Shetakeshimbackand

giveshimarockinghug.“Faceit,youusedmetogettomystuffedanimals.”

“That’sbecauseyouhadsuchavastcollection.”

“Impressive,isn’tit?”Shekicksoffhershoes,andIdothesame.“So,whatarewewatching?”She

turnsontheTV,andanoldWesternblinkstolife.

“Thislooksgoodtome.”IshoveasmallpinkrabbitbehindmyheadanduseitasapillowasIget

niceandcomfy.

“Areyoukidding?It’sallbloodandgore.Andthey’realwaysfightinginthedesert.Justwatchingit

makesmehotandsweaty.”

AchucklerunsthroughmeasIwrapmyarmaroundherandPoppylandsagainstmychest,herarms

curledoverme.“So,you’resayingabunchofsweatymengetyouhotandbothered?”

“Eww.Trustme,that’sthelastthingtheygetme.Butspeakingofwhich.”Sheleansoverthesideof

thebedandnearlyfallstothefloor,soIgrabaholdofherwaistandhoistherbackup.“Thanks.”Her

ponytailsmacksherintheface,andmystomachcinchesbecauseeverythingaboutPoppyMontgomeryis

sodamncute.“Icamehometofindmybattery-operatedboyfriendwaitingforme.”Shepullsaten-inch

hotpinkrubberdickoutofaboxandwavesitinfrontofmyface.

“Crap.Getthatthingawayfromme,Pops.”

Shebouncesitoffmylipsafewtimes,andIgentlytakeherbythehandandsteadyitinfrontofmeso

Icantakealookatthedamnthing.

“Ithassparkles.Isthatsomethinggirlsarelookingforinapenisthesedays?”

“Thecorrecttermisglitter.AndIdobelieveit’sanofficialvampirepenis.”Shebringstheplastic

penistoherchestasifshewereholdingaflower.“Goodquestion,though.I’veneverthoughtaboutwhatI

look for in a penis. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever really got a good look at any of the penises I’ve

encountered. It’s always dark and seedy, and over before I can get a good look at the perpetrator who

impaledthelowerforty-eight.”

“Veryfunny.Andplease”—Igrindmypalmintomyeye—“let’snotdiscusstheperpetratorswhohave

impaledyourlowerforty-eight.That’sdisgusting.Andabouthowmanywerethere,anyway?”Yes,Iwant

toknow.AndthenIwanttotrackthemdownandbludgeonthemalltodeathwiththissparklingpieceof

manhood.

Poppybeltsoutalaugh.“Takeawildguess.I’llgiveyouahint.It’smorethanoneandlessthana

hundred.ButafterIconfidethisdelicateinformationtoyou,Iexpectthesamecourtesy.I’daccuseyouof

losingcount,butIhappentoknowyou’retooanalandegotisticalforthat.”

“Touché.”I’vegotthatnumber.ButeversincePoppyrodebackintotown,Idon’tfeellikeaddingto

it,exceptmaybebyone.“Okay—twenty-seven.”

“What?”Shepicksupagiantwhitebearandknocksmeovertheheadwithit.“Isthatthekindofa

hussyyouthinkIam?That’snotevenaniceroundnumber!”

“Okay,okay.Fifteen.Roundenoughforyou?”

“Better.ButstillinSkanksville.Wow,it’snicetoknowyouthinksohighlyofme.”

“Idothinkhighlyofyou.That’swhyIwishthatnumberwaslessthanzero.”

Shesinksbackdownnexttome,battingherforestoflashesmyway.“YouwishIwasrunninginthe

negatives?Aw,that’ssweet.”Shebitesdownonthatdevioussmileandgigglestoherself.“Don’ttellme

youwish you couldhave added myhymen to your beaverpelt collection. I’mbetting virgin trapping is

oneofyourfavoritesports.”

Iclosemyeyesandbangmyheadlightlyoverthebackofherheadboard.“Idon’tknowwhereyouget

thisstuff,EightBall.”

“It’scalledreality,Gordo.”Thatsmuggrinslidesoffherface.“Iwishyouweren’tsuchawhore.”

Hervoicegrowssmallashernailsscratchlightlyovermychest.“You’reagoodguy.Youdeserveagood

girl and to be happy sans running the risk of creating an entirely new strain of venereal disease.” She

looksupwiththosesadpuppydogeyes,andmyheartwrenches.“You’vesleptwitheveryone,Jax.”The

agonyinhervoice,thatpainedexpression—I’veneverfeltsoashamedofwhatI’vedone.“Yousleptwith

Larissa.”ShepicksupFreddythedragonandsmasheshimintomychest.

“I’msorry.”Itcomesoutlowerthanawhisper,butImeanit.

“Didyouever—youknow—fallinlovewithanyone?”

“Notanyofthosegirls.”MyheartthumpsviolentlyagainandagainasifI’monthecuspofthatvery

endeavor.

Shenodsupatme,herarmdrapingovermybodylikeashield,anditfeelsgoodlikethiswithPoppy.

“Soyou’reaserialfucker.”Hervoiceislowandthreatenstobreak.

Adarklaughstrumsfromme.“YouknowIcan’tstanditwhenyou’revulgar.”

“Youcan’tstandhowcuteitis.”Hercoolhandslipsupmyshirt,andIsuckinaquickbreathathow

gooditfeels.

“Yougotme.Ithinkyou’recute,Pops.”

Shebitesdownonhercherryredliponceagain,andI’mdyingtodojustthatmyself.

“You know—you may have screwed a lot of people, but you’ve never made love to any. In that

respect,Iguesswe’rebothvirgins.”

Ihavenocluewherethisisgoing,butmydickjustrousedtoseewhatthehellwasgoingon.

“Doyouloveme,Jaxson?”Herdarkrubylipspartinanticipation.Hereyesexpandwideaslilypads,

andmyheart,mysouldetonateallatonce.“Notintheromanticsense,butyouknow,asagoodfriend.

We’veknowneachothersincewewerekids.We’repracticallyfamilyinanon-incestualkindofway.”

“Kissingcousins?”

“Don’tgetbackwoodsonme.YouknowwhatImean.”

“Yes,Iloveyou.”Itraceoutherfeatureswiththetipofmyfingerandsoakineverydipandcurve.

“I’velovedyousincethatfirstdayIvisitedyouinthehospitalwhenyouwereborn.”

Poppytremblesoutalaugh.“Youhavenorecollectionofthat,andyouknowit.”

“It’strue.Icanfeelitinmygut.Ilovedyouthen,andI’llalwaysloveyou.”

A thick silence fills the room as Poppy and I lock eyes. There’s something happening, a shift, a

movement, the unleashing of a damn. Sometimes you just realize that the landscape of your life is

changing,rearrangingforthebetter,andforme—andhopefullyforPoppy,thisisthatmoment.

Wordlessly, I lift her chin and lower my lips to meet hers. We share a sensual kiss, slow and

meaningful,asifwewerewritingalovelettertooneanother’ssouls.

My hands find their way to her waist as I glide down the cool silk fabric splitting the difference

betweenus.Poppyhasthetiniestwaist,theroundestass—andImeanthatinthebestpossibleway—thatI

haveeverseeninapairofjeansorotherwise.Buttonight,Iwouldn’tmindaglimpseoftherealdeal,

rawandinthebuff.Myfingersworkthewaistbandofherpantsbeforedippingdownoverherwell-toned

stomach. Poppy does her best to return the favor by pulling off my flannel, yanking off my T-shirt. She

pulls back a moment and rakes her eyes along my chest, her fingers bumping over the ridges of my

muscles.

“Wow,Stade,youaremagnificent.”Herwordscomeoutbreathy.

Just hearing her so hot and bothered gets me worked up. Here we are again, another hard situation

presentingitselfbetweenfriends.Iopenlyfrownatthethought.Thisissomethingmorethanthat.Ithink

webothrealizeit.Wejustdon’thaveitinustoadmitit.

Carefully, I reach over and unbutton her blouse, pulling the smooth fabric off her shoulders as her

beautiful,beautifultitsstarebackatme.Ihavealwayswonderedwhattheymightlooklike.Godknows

I’veseenthemineveryshapeandsize—butthesebelongtoPoppy.Heretheyare,perfectlyround,just

heavyenoughtogiveanaturalshape,andthoselightpinknippleslookliketwincherriessittingonabed

ofwhippedcream.Irubmythumboverone,andsheshiversatmytouch.

Poppypullsmetomykneesasweevicteverylaststichofclothingbetweenus.Shetugsthatdragon

over and sets it on her lap, blocking my view of the sweetest, hopefully wettest spot on Earth as she

crossesherlegsandIdothesame.Hereweare,seatedacrossfromoneanothercross-legged.Ialways

knewifIeversleptwithPoppyitwouldbedifferent,andyetIhadnoidea.

“Takeagoodlook,sweetheart.”Acrookedgrinrisesupmycheek.“Doyouseeanysparkles?”

Poppybeltsoutalaugh,sohardandsolong,ascowlquicklyreplacesthatgrinI’msporting.

“Watchit.I’mstartingtogetoffended.”I’monlypartiallyteasing.

Herchestbucks,andthoseperfecttitsbouncebetweenus.“Jax.”Sheshakesherhead,andherhands

landoverthebaseofmymostprominentmember.“Ithinkwhatyouhavetooffertrumpsthesparkleson

mybattery-operatedboyfriendanydayoftheweek.”Hereyeslingerovermineamoment.Hereweare,

herhandsgrippingmydick,myhard-onthreateningtopetrifyrocksolid,andmyheartexplodinginmy

chestlikeaFourthofJulyspectacular.Therearemomentsinyourlifethatyouingrainintoyourmemory,

andthis,albeitaslightlypornographicmemory,willalwaysbetheonethatremindsmeofthefactI’min

lovewiththisgirl.

Myeyeswidenintohers,andmyjawgoesslack.I’minlovewithPoppyMontgomery.I’vealways

lovedherbeyondtheboundsoffriendshipandfamily.

Oh,shit.Thisisreal.Iloveher.AndIneedtotellher.

Adevioussmileglidesonherface.“Letmebestowakisstothekingonhismosttreasuredcrown.”

Poppyleansin,andagroanworksitswayupmythroatinanticipation.I’mabouttomakelovetoPoppy

Montgomerywiththelightson,andI’mgoingtowatchandmemorizeeverydamnminute.

Thedoortoherroomswingsopen,lettinginanunwelcomedbreeze,andPoppyandIfreeze.

“Feelingbetter,honey?”Charlenetakesonelookatus,andhereyesexpandthesizeofthesun.She

slapsahandoverherchestandletsoutablood-curdlingscreambeforespinninglikeacyclone,shutting

herselfintotheroom,thenscreamingonceagainuntilshelandssafelyontheothersideofthedoor.

Fuck.

IwillneverbeabletolookCharleneMontgomeryintheeyeagain.

“

HOTANDHEAVYHORSEPLAY

POPPY

AARGGHHHH!”

Ilaunchtothedoorandslammyshoulderagainstit,lockingthedamnthingwhileexpellingasilent

sob. I can’t believe my mother just saw me bending over Jaxson Stade’s lap rocket while I positioned

myselftoblowitoutlikeabirthdaycandle.

“It’s okay, honey!” she bleats from the other side of the door. “I won’t tell your father! He’s fast

asleep.Hedoesn’tneedtoknowathing!Youjustkeepupwithwhateveritisyoukidsweredoing!Have

a good time! I’ll make sure to have a pancake breakfast for the two of you come morning! I know

blueberriesareyourfavorite,Jaxson!”

A masculine murmuring comes from the hall, and I practically hear her covering for me. Something

aboutmehavingaviolentandverycatchingformofstomachflu.GoodGod.IcringeintothedoorasI

resisttheveryrealurgetohurl.

Jaxsoncomesupandswitchesthelightsoff.Hisarmscirclemywaistashelandsagentlekisstothe

napeofmyneck,andashiverrunsthroughme.

“Itlookslikeoursecretisout,EightBall,”hewhispersitheavyintomyear,andItipmyheadback

andmoan.JaxsonStadehascalledmethatnicknamemoretimesthanIcaretoremember,andyetthistime

itmademyinsidesquiverrightdowntothatwetslickthatisbeggingtopayhimhomage.

Ispinintohisembraceandfindhislipswithmyownbeforepullingback.“Mymotherknowswhat

we’redoing.”Itcomesoutmoreofanagonizingcrythanawhisper.

“Thinkofitthisway.We’vejustmadethingsverybelievable.”

“Toobelievable.Anddon’tthinkshewon’tsnapafewpicturesofusinthemorningandaddittothat

psychoticscrapbooksheandyourmotherhavebeencontributingtoallourlives.”

“Youmeanthephotoalbumtheyletusknowfifteenyearsagothatwouldonedaybeondisplayatour

wedding?”

“That’stheone.You’renotreallystayingthenight,areyou?”I’mhopeful,butlet’sfaceit.Mymother

can pretty much kill just about any hard-on. I wouldn’t be surprised if she nixed the flesh-fest that was

abouttoensue.

“Areyoukidding?Andmissoutonthepancakebreakfast?She’sthrowinginblueberriesforGod’s

sake.” He buries a tender kiss in the hollow of my neck, and a sigh escapes me. A sliver of moonlight

allowsmetoseehisdruggedeyesrisetomeetwithmine.“Youcouldn’tgetridofmeifyoutried.”

Iswallowhardasmyheartracesintomyskull.“Whatevershallwedo?”Itease,butitjustcomesout

desperateandpleading.

Jaxson’s hands strum down my sides, slipping against my thigh, and his fingers glide over the most

intimatepartofme.Thesweetelectrifyingsensationsendsmejumpingfortheceiling.

“OhGod!”Icryinanefforttoembarrassthehelloutofmyself.“Imean,wow,thatwas—”Shutup,

Poppy.Yankyourvocalcordsoutofyourthroatifyouhaveto.ThisisJaxsonStadeyou’reaboutto

sleepwithforfuck’ssake!Ipressoutaweaksmile.“Iguessyoucaughtmeoffguard,”Ipantoutthelie.

“Did that feel good?” A dreamy smile accompanies that stoned look on his face as he leans in and

stealsakissoffmylips.“Didyouknowyourmouthtastesdelicious?”Hepullsback,hisheavybreathing

coolsmyheatedflesh.“Ibeteverylastpartofyoutastesgood,too.”Hisfingersglideoverthequivering,

tender part of me once again, and I let out another heated cry. Thankfully, the Western blaring on my

televisioniscurrentlyexperiencingaratherapocalypticshoot-out.Ineedtheirruggedshoutsandgruntsto

covermyownapocalyptic-worthymoaning.

Hisfingersmoveoverme,andIsuckinaquickbreath.

“You’resowet,”hewhispersashelandsakissdirectlyinmyear,andIshudder.

I’mgoingtocome.I’mjustaboutthere.I’mprettysurewe’resomewhereonthatnebulousthirdbase

—we’renowherenearhomeplate,andI’mabouttoskipstraighttothefireworksshowafterthegame.

Themoonlightbathesusinitssteelybeams.Jaxsondoesn’ttakethatlustygazeoffofmeashisfinger

slowlyplungesintomybodyandItakeinanever-endingbreath.

“Are you returning the favor?” I try to pass it off as sarcasm or something light, but my erratic

breathingtearsupeverywordandmakesmyvocalcordsworktogetthemout.

“Oh, honey”—a dark laugh rumbles from him, and he pulls back to take me in—“I’m about to do

myselfafavorandgiveyousomethingI’vewaitedalifetimefor.”

Jaxscoopsmeupandlandsmesoftlyonthemattress.Hiskissesstreamdownmybody,stoppingby

thegirlstoappreciatethehelloutoftheminafrenziedfervor.

“Tobecontinued.”Hegivesmyleftnippleagenerousbite,andIcan’thelpbuttakeinaquivering

breath.

Yes, I’ve been with two other guys, but both of those experiences were lost in a drunken haze of

regret. And each time, I tried to pretend they were Jaxson. And now here he is, having a bona fide

conversationwithmyboobs,movinghisdarkheadovermyabdomenandleavingmebreathlesswitheach

swerveofhishot,lashingtongue.

Jaxgetsonhiselbowsandpullsmyhipsunderhischin.Heglancesupatmewiththoseheavylids

andshedsadementedgrin.

Mychestheaves,onehardblowafteranother,andsoonenough,I’llpassoutandmisswhatisturning

outtobethemostspectacularmomentofmylife.JaxsonStadeisdrippingwithlewdintent.Thosefangs

hecallsteethgleaminthesilverlightwiththatbigbadwolfgrinofhisbloomingfromear-to-ear.

“My,whatbigteethyouhave,”Iwhisperlikeanidiotashiskissesdriptomyinnerthighs.

“Thebetterto”—heplungesakissintothatheatedslickthat’sbeenwaitingforhimforyears,andIlet

outasharpgasp—“loveyouwith.”Andjustlikethat,Jax’stonguerunsoverthoseslickedfolds,licking,

sucking,andloving,thehelloutofme.

I can’t breathe. Can’t move. But mostly I can’t stop watching as Jaxson’s dark head moves in a

circularmotionthatmakesmyheart,everycellinmybody,andmyworldfeelasifit’sabouttoblowto

pieces.Myfingersrunthroughhisthickhair,andIgriphimthere,owningthismomentbecauseforsolong

I’vewantedit.Theroomspins,mybodytightenslikeacoil,andjustasI’mabouttocryout,abreathgets

lockedinmythroat,andIdetonaterightthereinhismouth,provingthepointthatJaxsonStadeisfarbetter

athelpingoutafriendthanIeverwas.

Heswimsupnexttome,andmylegssealshutasmybodyridesoutthemostsatisfyinghumIhave

everknown.

“Ibetyourbattery-operatedboyfriendcan’tdothat.”Heburieskissafterkissinmyneck.“Youtaste

sweet,EightBall.”Heplungeshistongueintomymouthasiftoprovehispoint,andIsquirmrightback

outofthatkiss.

“Sweet?Likeacandycaneortropicalfruit?Becausetropicalfruitcanbeiffy.”

He pulls back with a laugh suppressed in his chest. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too

much?”

“Youknowyouloveit.”Ireachupandgivehisearaswifttug,andthemomentgrowsserious.

“Ido.”Helandsasoftkisstomylips.“Iloveeverythingaboutyou,Poppy.”Mymouthfindshis,and

ourkissesexplodeintosomethingnextlevel,somethingIhaveneverexperiencedbefore.Hisbodyfalls

overmine,heavyandweighted,andthefeelofhisnakedfleshcoveringmineiselectric.It’sasifmyskin

hasbeencravinghimalloftheseyears,andinthismomentrighthere,itgetsitsfirstsatisfyingtasteof

whatit’sthirstedfor.I’vealwaysthirstedforJaxson.I’dbealiarifIdidn’tadmittoit.

Myhandsridedownthehardridgesofhisabs.JaxisbuiltlikeanAdoniswithhissupremelysculpted

body. My fingers ride down to that hard V I was in deep admiration of when my mother burst onto the

scenelikesomesexualsleuthattheready.Jaxson’sbodyisaworktobeadmired,butI’dmuchrathergo

italonewithouttheaidoftheonewhopushedmeoutontothisplanetthroughherloins.

MyfingersfollowtheridgesofthathardVastheypointstraighttoJaxson’smostprizedmember,and

IrunlittlecirclesdownhishairlineuntilIclaspontohismanhood.Andascheesyasitsounds,it’sjust

that.Jaxsonhasgrownintoadrop-deadgorgeous,delicioustastingmanrightbeforemyeyes,andnow

thatI’vetakenthisfirstbiteoutofwhatwasforsolongforbiddenfruit,Iknowthereisneveranygoing

back.Allthatfriendshipbullshitendstonight.I’minlovewithJax,andIalwayshavebeen.

Ipullbackabruptlyandslapmyhandovermymouthattherevelation.

“What’sthematter?”Hesweepsthehairoffmyface.“Don’tworry.I’vegotuscovered.”Hereaches

down and comes up with a condom so fast you’d think his jeans handed it right to him. It wouldn’t

surprisemeifhisLevi’shadsuperpowers.Everythingaboutthisboyseemsprettyotherworldly.

“Right,”Iwhisperashewavesitinfrontofmeasifhewereteasing.Hetearsitopenwithhisteeth,

andallIseearethoseglowingeyesstilltrainedonmine.

Jaxpausesashepullsmeovertohim.“Areyouokay?”

“Yes,I’mgreat.”It’sjustthatIfinallyadmittedtomyselfthatI’mmadlyinlovewiththeboyinmy

bed,andIcan’tbringmyselftosayit.“I’veneverbeenbetter.”

Aquietlaughreverberatesthroughhim.“Iwasjustthinkingtheverysamething.”

Doubtful,buthere’shoping.

He rolls the condom on before giving himself a quick stroke, and that little act sends my body on

anotherquiveringspreethatsetsmysolarplexusonfire.

“Oh hell,” I whisper. “Just when I didn’t think you could get any hotter, you have to go and touch

yourself.”Itrymybesttofrownupathim.Growingup,we’dbouncebackbanterontheregular,anda

partofdoingsowaskeepingastraightface.Iwasneveranygoodatit—thus,thesmiletwitchingonmy

lips.

Hewincesamomentbeforepullingmeupsothatourmouthsarejustinchesapart.

“Ihaveaconfessiontomake.”HisvoicevibratesfromhischesttomineasIwrapmyarmsaround

him.“I’mnottryingtokillthemoment,Pops,butthisisprettyserious.”

“You’ve come to your senses and realize you’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life?” I

burymyfaceinmyhandsamomentasifIjustpulledthepinonthetruthgrenade.

“Nottrue.”Hepullsmeupbythechin.“WhatIrealizedisthat”—histhroatjumpsasheswallows

—“thatit’sprettycoolthatIgettodothiswithsomeoneIcareabout.SomeoneIlove.”Hepullsmeinby

mycheeksandlandsatenderkisstomylips.“Iloveyou,Pops.”Hisdimplesdigin.

“I love you, too, Jax.” I brush my hands over his beautiful face before pressing a kiss into each of

thosedeepdivotsthatsinkintohischeeks.Mymouthlandsoverhis,andIgivehistongueaplayfulbite.

Jax pulls back and gazes at me as if he’s marveling at what he sees. “I have another confession to

make.Ihaveneverstoppedthinkingaboutyou.”

Andthereitis.Muchtomysatisfaction,I’vehauntedJaxson’smindforthebetterpartofhislife.

“I’mgoingtostartoffslow,butconsiderthisawarning.Thingsareabouttogetroughandrowdyreal

quick.”Hisfingerdripsdownmychestachinglyslow.“I’vebeengreedytohaveyouforsolong.”

Myheartthumpswild.JaxsonhasspilledeverywordIhaveeverwantedtohear.“Youdorealizethat

I’mabouttoturnyourbodyintoapornographicplayground.”Mynailsgrazeoverhisrock-hardbottom.

“Well,then”—hestraddlesmeashelandshischestovermine—“let’sgetreadytorumble.”

Hismouthcrashesovermine,soft,yetdetermined.Ireachdownandnavigatehimtowhereheneeds

tobe,andwithasteadythrust,Jaxsonpressesintomeinonehotblazeofglory.

A nervous laugh bubbles from my throat as I look up at his sleepy eyes. My hand glides over his

cheek,andheturnstowarditandtakesaquickbitebeforemovinginandoutofme,slowandsteadyat

first,thenjustlikehepromised,roughandgreedy.Mymattresssuddenlydecidestodoitsbestimpression

ofawaterbed,andjustasJaxsongetsinafewaggressivethrusts,asifhe’stryingtoteachmyvaginaa

lesson,myheadboardcrashesoverthewallwithathunderousclatter.

“Jax!”Hisnamegetsgarbledinalaughasmyheadboardthundersaway.ButJaxsoncontinueswith

hisendeavorashethrustshiswaytocompletion.

Hisbodyshuddersovermineashebreaksoutintoacoldsweat.Jaxfallsoverme,andIcovermy

faceinawhimperinglaugh.

“Youthinkthatwasconvincingenough?”Heleansinandtakesabiteofmyearlobe.

“Ithinkwe’veconvincedtheentireneighborhood.”

Jaxsonlandsoneofhismagicalkissesovermylips,andwestartalloveragain.

We wrestle it out all night long. I always knew that Jaxson Stade was a beast to be reckoned both

underandoverthesheets.

It’sblisslikethiswithJaxson.

Ialwaysknewitwouldbe.

“A

NIGHT

?”SadiecanhardlylandherforktohermouththenextdayasweenjoyalatelunchatStarry

Nights.

“Thankfully, my parents were nowhere to be seen this morning while Jax and I scarfed down that

blueberrypancakebreakfast.Whoknewasexualfeastoffantasticproportionscouldleaveyoufeelingas

ifyouhadn’teatenfordays?”Itakeaquickbreathatthememoryandquicklygulpdownmyicewater.

“SobackuptotheIloveyous.Whydidyouhavetomuckitupwithallthatfriendshipcrap?Nowit’s

goingtobeanightmaretryingtodecipherwhathemeant.”

“Ofcourse,weloveeachother.Jaxispracticallymysecondbrother.”Igagamomentatthethought.

“Notthatway.It’syouknow,thatkindoflove.”Purelyplatonic,butIcan’tbringmyselftosayitbecause

formeitisn’ttrue.

“No, I don’t know.” She pulls her roll apart as if she were readying to feed a thousand pigeons.

“Pops,Iwasmarriedforfourteengruelingmonths,andIcancountononehandhowmanytimesthatman

saidIloveyouandstillhavefingersleftover.”

“Well, this isn’t like that. We were just...” I pause, fork midair, and suddenly my appetite for the

world’sgreatestChinesechickensaladvanishestonothing.“Idon’tknow,messingaround?”IwinceasI

sayit.“Imean”—Itossmyforkintotheleafygreenjungleplatedbeforemeinsurrender—“Ilovehim.I

meanteveryword.”Tearscometothepartyuninvited.“I’velovedhimforsolong,andlastnightwasthe

culminationofallthosejacked-upfeelingsI’vehadtohidefromthetimeIwasseven.It’snotfair.”Igrab

mydrinkasifIwereabouttostrangleit.

“What’snotfair?”Sadiegetsthatincredulouslookonherface.“Poppy—youandJaxsharesomething

the rest of us have to search our whole lives for, and even when we think we’ve found it, we end up

proving ourselves wrong. Face it, what you and Jax have is true love. What happened last night was a

testamentofyourfeelings.Yousaidsoyourself—youlovehim.Sothequestionis,howdoesthisfitinto

thatlittlepracticaljokeyou’repullingonyourmothers?”

“Oh—that.” It was a stupid idea to begin with. “Of course, we still have to go through with it. We

needtoseethosewomensufferinfrontofalargeassemblyoffriendsandfamilylesttheylivetotorment

us another day. This is our perfect chance—our one moment in time. There’s no way we can give up

now.”

“Buthe’sinlovewithyou,andyou’reinlovewithhim.”Sadieshakesherheadatmewiththatsickly

laughthatscreamsI pity you, bleating from her throat. “Don’t you see? The jig is up, girl. This is one

prankthat’sbackfiredinthemostspectacularway.”

Ithinkonthisforamoment.“IguessIshouldtalktoJaxaboutit.”Somethinginmystomachchurnsas

ifdeepdownIknowthisisn’tthebestidea.“HementionedsomethingaboutabusinessmeetinginDenver

today,sohewon’tgetbackuntillate.ButI’lltrytobringitupthenexttimewe’retogether.”Maybe.

Sadie reaches over and picks up my hand. “I know this will all work out, Pops. Don’t worry. No

matterhowthisends,I’llbethereforyou.”

“Only,I’llbeinCalifornia.”

Wewrapuplunch,andSadieinvitesmetoscoutlocationsaroundOakGroveforherup-and-coming

coffee shop that’s about to take the town by caffeinated storm. Everywhere we go we seem to run into

coupleslaughing,embracing,lookinglovinglyintooneanother’seyes,andforsomeodd,JaxsonStade-

shapedreason,I’mmorbidlyjealousofthem.

WestopoutsideofthePineCrestBakeryandlookinatthesaddisplayofold,plain-lookingcakes

thatnooneseemsinterestedin,savefortheflytrappedintherefrigeratedcase.Sadiereallycalledit.

Amanandawomanskiponby,chortlingatnothinginparticular.Hercheeksarerosy,andhiseyes

filledwithfartoomuchlustforMainStreetinthemiddleoftheafternoon,andnowIwishIhadheldon

tothatforkfromlunchbecauseI’dreallylovetostabtheircollectiveeyesout.

“IsitwrongthateverytimeIseeahappycouple,Iwanttothrottlebothofthem?”

Sadiestartsinonalaughbeforeitquicklydefusestoarifelookofworry.“Youdorealizethrottling

innocentpeoplewillprobablyleadtoafelonycharge.”

“OnlyifIachievemygoalofkillingthem.”

“Oh,Pops”—shelandsanarmaroundmyshoulder—“I’msorryyou’reinthemoodforagoodkilling

spree.Asyourbestfriend,Iliketohelppropagateyourshenanigans,butseeingthatitmightgarnermean

orangejumpsuit,I’llhavetoputthekiboshonthisone.”

“HowcouldIhavelethimrunawaywithmyheartlikethis?Jaxsonisn’tgoingtopickupStadeSteel

andmovetoL.A.,andI’mnotgoingtopackuptheUGGbootsI’veamassedandmovebacktoOakGrove

—althoughtheaforementionedcollectionwouldbemuchbettersuitedinasubarcticclimatesuchasthis.

But you’ll be glad to know they don’t really roast your feet at seventy degrees since wool can be

comfortably worn at stable temperatures, but I digress. If I move back home—and I really do consider

Oak Grove my home—then Jaxson will think I’m some desperate stalker.” I let out a Sasquatch-worthy

groan.“Thisstartedoutinthenameofrevenge,andI’mafraidit’sgoingtohavetoendthere.Iknewno

goodwouldcomefromtryingtopullafastoneonthosemischiefmavens.”

“Thisisalltheirfault.”

“Thisisalltheirfault.”MybloodboilsatthethoughtofmymotherandDebruiningyetanothermajor

milestoneinmylife—firstlove.

Jaxsonwillalwaysbemyfirstlovenomatterhowbadourmothersmanagetobotchwhatcouldhave

been.

ATURDAY

,exactlyoneweekfromtheparty,Jaxinvitesmetohismother’shomefordinner.Andeven

though I’ve known Debbie Stade all my life, the thought of joining her for dinner as her son’s main

squeezehasmeinastateofpanic.Ichangethreetimesfromaskintightnudenumberthatmademelook

like a stripper, to jeans and a sweater that made me look as if all my other clothes were buried in an

overflowing hamper, to the final ensemble of the evening, a white lace top that screams both sexy and

conservativeandapairofblackvelvetpantsbecausewhatinthehellgoeswithlace,anyway?Ofcourse,

I pair the outfit with my Louboutin heels because nothing says I’m making bank in L.A. more than a

thousand-dollarpairofthesexiestheelsonEarth.ItossonmypeacoatanddrivelikemadfortheStade

house because all of those wardrobe changes put me behind schedule a good forty-five indecisive

minutes.

ButI’mgoodandexcitedandfeelingontopoftheworldbecausenotonlyisJaxbackinmylife—in

myheartandontheluckyoffchanceinmybody—butIhadanofficialjoboffercomeinfromKleeseand

SloaneDesignsthatIpromptlyacceptedonthespot.NotthatgoingbacktoL.A.isadreamcometrue,but

itsurehelpswiththebills.ThethoughtofacouplethousandmilessplittingthedistancebetweenJaxson

andmedampensmymood,soIputthethoughtoutofmyheadforthetimebeing.

Iparkandslipandslidemywaytothedoor.Notetoself:Highheelsdonotagoodsnowshoemake.

Andbelieveme,afterlivinginOakGroveallmylife,I’mwellawareofthefact.ButIhavetomakeDeb

believeI’mputtinganeffortintoimpressmyman—evenifIamreallyputtinganeffortintoimpressmy

man.

JaxsonopensthedoorwithahugetoothygrinonhisfaceandhisnephewJenseninonearm.

“Hey,cutie!”IpatlittleJensenoverthetopofthehead.HehasJaxson’sbrightblueeyesandthose

requisite Stade dimples. Jensen could easily pass for Jaxson’s son, and the thought makes my ovaries

plead for mercy. Is it terrible that I wish that wild romp Jax and I shared in my childhood bedroom

actuallyledtoachild?IadmitIwasatouchdisappointedwhenhedrummedupthatcondom,thentwo,

then seemingly twelve. I mean, dear God, have a value pack—will travel? Talk about egotistical

assurancethathewasgoingtogetlaid.That’ssomeseriousballsthatboywaspacking,andImeanthatin

boththeliteralandfigurativesense.

“Ithinkyou’reokayyourself.”IleanupandbrushaquickkissoverJax’scheek,andhewidensthat

smile.He’sdonnedabrightblueflannelthatsetsoffhiseyeslikeflames,thehintofthatwhitecottonT-

shirtstrainingundertheduressofhismusclesmakesmygirlpartswhimper,andthosewell-wornLevi’s.

Thereissomethinginherentlysexyaboutaboyinwell-wornLevi’s.

“Youlookbeautiful.”Hedipsinwithakissofhisown.“Somemengiveflowers,andI’mgivingyou

ason.”HepretendstotossJensenatme,andthelittleboyexplodesinlaughter.

“Finally!”Kaligruntswhenshespotsme.“Jax’shoishere!”shebarks,promptingJulestopopinto

theroomandglareatme.

“Don’tcallherthat,”Jaxbarksrightback.“Sorry,”hemouths.

WhywouldKalicallmehisho?That’swhatweusedtocallJaxson’svaginaljukeboxesasateam,

andnowshe’sturnedonme.KaliandIseemedtogetalongokay,butthatwasyearsago.It’sclearshe’s

longforgottenallaboutme.ShewasonlystartingjuniorhighwhenIleft.I’llhavetomakeitapointtoget

backonhergoodside.

IgiveafriendlywavetoJules.JulesandIgowayback.Wewereneverreallyclose.She’ssortof

likethatcousinyouwereforcedtoseeonholidaysandspecialoccasionsthatneverreallytalkedallthat

muchtoyou—andsecretlythoughtshewasbetterthanyou.

“Food’sgettingcold,”shescowlsasshescoopsuphersonandheadstothediningroom.

Jaxson wraps his arms around me from behind and presses a kiss to my neck. His warm cologne

soothes me, and I’m hoping his spiced scent and heated affection will be enough to get me through the

hostilewatersI’veventuredinto.Iknowtheywill.

“Letmetakeyourjacket.”Hehelpsmeslideitoffandisquicktoplaceitonthecoatrack.

“Youdon’tthinkanyone’supsetwithme,doyou?”Iwrapanarmaroundhiswaistasweheadintothe

granddiningroompaintedpinkandgold,acolorcombinationonlyDebStadeandherbillionscanpull

off.

“Whywouldanyonebeupsetwithyou?”HelandsanotherkisstomycheekjustasDebcomesoutto

greetus.

“Look at the lovebirds!” She pulls us into a dual embrace. “My—don’t you look virginal in white

lace.”Sheoffersaslywinkwithherdarkhaircoifedtotheceilingandherlipsabright,cheeryred.“We

allknowthat’sabitofafib,nowdon’twe?”Shetouchesthetipofmynosebeforescurryingofftoher

seat,andbothJaxandIexchangeaquickglance.

Ohmyshit.Myvirtuewasjustcalledoutasanappetizer,cold,andyetwithalittlekickyoudon’tfeel

untilafter.It’sclearmymotherhasrattledoffthenakedtruthaboutJaxandme.AndIgetit.Debisher

verybestfriend.ThatwouldbelikemekeepingthingsfromSadie,whichispracticallyacapitaloffense.

We take our seats to a table full of food that I’m sure Deb prepared herself. She might have more

money than every small nation combined, but she’s not giving up her God-given right to party in the

kitchen.

A nice mixed salad and a side of creamed green beans look delicious. The glibbery mass of pink

bovine is still mooing, so I think I’ll take a hard pass on pretending to be a carnivore. In all honesty, I

can’trememberthelasttimeIateanypartofacow.IguessL.A.haschangedme.Iwouldhavebeenmuch

happierifitwerebentoboxesallaroundtonight,butI’mjustthrilledtohavebeeninvitedtoenjoyameal

withtheStadessoIdon’tsayboo—orinthiscase,moo.

“So,Poppy”—Debstartsinwhilepassingthesalad—“alittlebirdietoldmethatyouandmyJJhada

good old-fashioned slumber party.” She bites down on that devil-may-care-that-her-children are in the

roomsmileandengagesinanoddlittleside-to-sideswivel.

GoodGod,isshedoingthehappydance?

“Oh,right.”IgiveanervouslaughovertoJuleswho’sglaringatmewhilesawingathersteakasifit

wereatreebranch.“Actually”—IglancetoJaxsonforhelp,buthe’stoobusyloadinguponthegoodsto

even notice the conversation—“we were—um, there were chicken soup and a dragon.” I nod as if the

wordsaladIjustespousedwascompletelylucid.“Thepancakebreakfasthadblueberries!”

“Ofcourse,itdid.”Sheliftsherforkasiftotoastme.“They’reJaxy’sfavorite.”

Jaxy.Itouchmykneetohis.I’vealwaysthoughtitwasabitcomicalthatDebcontinuestocallJaxson

byhischildhoodmoniker.Jaxythis,Jaxythat.GoodLord,Jaxycoulddonowronginthiswoman’seyes.

“Yourmothersaysshesavedthesheets.”

“Thewhat?”GoodGod,isthatwhymybedwasmysteriouslymadelaterthatday?Ididn’tnoticenew

sheets,butthiswouldnotsurpriseme.IcanjustpicturemymotherandDebcuttingupthesheetsJaxandI

committedcoitusontocoverthosefluffylittlescrapbooksthey’vebeenworkingonfordecades.

“Thesheets,”shepracticallymouthsitthistime.“Therewasnoblood.”Sheshakesherheadasifthis

wereapity.“That’showyouprovedvirginitybackintheday.Itwasaframe-worthypieceofart,Itell

you.”

Whatthehell?

“Shit,”Jaxhissesunderhisbreath.

“Wait”—Kali looks as if she’s about to be sick—“Slumber party? Pancake breakfast? Are you

sleepingwithmybrother?Ithoughtwewerelike,related!”

Crap.“Technically,we’renotrelated.Itonlyfeelsthatway.Andwhywouldyoucallmeahoifyou

didn’tthinkIwassleepingwithhim?”

Jaxknockshiskneeintomine.I’mprettysurehe’snotfindingthehobanterI’mcurrentlyengagedin

withhissisteralltoocomical.It’smoreofadon’t-entertain-crazyknocktotheknee.NooffensetoKali,

butsheisgoingofftherailsabit.IglanceovertoDebbecauseclearlytheappledoesn’tfallfarfromthe

tree.

Kali scoffs as if the answer were clear. “Because that’s a loving term of endearment for all of my

brother’sone-hitwonders—youtoldmesoyourself.”

Soshedoesrememberme.Iofferatightsmileherway.Whoknewwordsspokenhalfadecadeago

wouldcomebacktobitemeintheass?

Jaxcutshissisteraquicklook.“Dropit,Kal.Poppyisourguest,andweshouldtreatherwiththe

utmostrespect.”

“Yeah,” Jules quips. “You wait until she leaves the room before you start calling her names.” She

gives a greasy wink my way, and just like that, my appetite for the gargantuan portion of salad I just

heapedontomyplateupanddisappears.

“Jules,”Jaxreprimands,lowandtired.“PoppyisatopdesignerbackinL.A.Maybeshecanhelpyou

withtheguesthouse?”

“I’dloveto!”Istraightenwithatouchofpride.I’mnotevenclosetobeingatopdesigner,butIlike

thatJaxknowswhichsidehistitillatingtoastisbutteredon.“Infact,Icandropbyanytimethisweek.We

cancomeupwithanentirethemefortheguesthouse,and,ofcourse,I’dlovetodoJensen’sroomaswell.

Freeofcharge!”

Every Stade in the house looks at me as if I’ve just emitted a foul odor. It’s easy to forget that the

Stadescanaffordthebestthattheirbillionscanbuy.Evenso,they’reawfullyconvincingwiththeirjust

likeuspersona.

“Weshallsee.”Julestipsherglasstomewithathreatinhereyes.

Holymother-lovingterror.You’dthinkIknifedherpuppyinthenightthewayshe’sacting.

IlooktoJax,buthe’sprettyoblivioustothecrapattackhissisterisshootingmyway.

“So,Poppy”—Julespushesoutamanufacturedsmile—“alittlebirdietoldme,you’llbehoppingback

onyourbroomstickandheadingbacktoyourcovenattheendoftheweek.”

I’mreallystartingtohatethatdamnlittlebirdie.

“Shit, Jules.” Jax tosses his utensils to his plate with a rattle—like a man, might I add—good and

pissedjustforme.“Doyoumind?Maybeyoushouldhopbackonyourbroomstickandhightailitbackto

theguesthouse.Whatinthehelldoyouhaveagainsther,anyway?”

Just as I’m about to knock my knee into Jaxson’s in a show of my appreciation, a roll flies by and

pingsJaxsonintheforehead.Debsitsattheotherendofthetableratherproudofhermiddleschoollunch

periodantic,andI’mfrozenwithshockatwhat’sjusttranspired.I’llbetallofthemeagermoneyIhave

thatmymotherdoesn’tknowDebpartakesinthetossingofthebunsatdinner.Foodispracticallysacred

inmyhouse,andhereit’susedforcommunicationpurposes.

“Iwon’thavefoullanguageinthishouse.”Shenodsassheindulgesinabiteofthefoodonherplate

thatshe’syettotossatherson.

Kalichucksherdinnerrollinherbrother’sdirection,butthistimehecatchesitmidflight.

DearGod,isthiswhat’sbeentakingplaceattheStade’shousealltheseyears?Maybethey’renotjust

like us after all. The large majority of us still prefer to masticate our food rather than utilize it as a

missile.

“Iagreewithnon-useoffoullanguage.”Jaxglowersathissisters.“Now,ifeitherofyoucan’tfind

somethingnicetosay,thenpleasedon’tsayanythingatall.”

“Fine.”JulesreachesoverandcutsJensen’sfoodintomicroscopicpieces.“I’dlovetoengageinlight

dinnerconversation,butIcan’tsayaword,”shespitsitoutlikerustednails.

“Oh,forfuck’ssake.”Thewordstumbleoutofmewithoutmeaningto,andIslapmyhandovermy

mouth.

“Forfuck’ssake!”Jensenshoutsandlaughshishardest.

“Ohno!”Myadrenalinespikes.WhoknewJensenwasaparrotintraining?

Deb groans and waves her hands as if she’s trying to land a seven forty-seven, and Jules lets out a

wildcryofascreamwithalookthatsaysI’llskinyoualivewithyoursplinteredbroomstick.

“I’mdone.”Sheboltsupandpluckshertinysonoutofhishighchair.

“For fuck’s sake!” He giggles up a storm, and I shrink in my seat because I’m pretty sure that little

phraseisgoingtobeaproblemtomorrowindaycare.

“Jensen”—Jaxgroansathisnephew—“don’tsaythat.Onlybadpeoplesaythat.”

“Badpeople!”Jensenpointstomeandlaughs.“Badpeople!”

DearGod,cansomeoneevictthekidalready?Orbetteryet,me.

Julesallbutgivesmethefingerassheracesforthedoor,andDebrunsafterher,threateningtotoss

theentireleftsideofthetableintoaZiplocbag.

Kalilosesherselfinherphoneaminute.“Gottago.”Shejumpsup.“Abunchofusaregoingtoseea

movietonight,andColeisgoingtobethere!”shesquealsasifColeweretheequivalentofaninetiesboy

bandallrolledupintooneballoftestosteroneandgoodhair.“God,Ineverhaveanythingtowear,”she

lambastshermeagerwardrobechoicesasshespeedsupthestairs.Onsecondthought,maybetheyarejust

likeus.

Debcomesbackandtsksawayatthesadstateofherdinnerparty.“Whydon’tyoukidsfinishup,and

I’ll be back to take care of the dishes?” She takes a step forward with an unnatural level of concern

writtenonherface.“Poppy,you’renotreallyleavinginaweek,areyou?”

“Well,actually”—IglancetoJaxsonwhoseemsequallyinterestedinmyanswer—“Ihavethisnew

jobI’mstarting.”

“Ofcourse,she’sleaving.”Jaxgivesmyshoulderaquicksqueeze.“She’sgotalifeshe’sbuilding,a

buddingcareer,andprobablyaboatloadoffriendsjustwaitingforhertogetback.”

My roommate and her less than sunny disposition come to mind. Honestly, she’s my only friend out

there, if you can call someone who’s basically using you for half the utilities a true friend. We don’t

exactlysaymuchoutsideofaccusingoneanotherofbreakingintoourcovetedstashofGreekyogurt—as

ifIwouldsettleforplain.Then,ofcourse,therewasthesexualadvancefrommyoldboss.Thatwasvery

friendlyinnatureifIdon’tsaysomyself.Butthosetwohardlyqualifyasaboatload.Heck,Idon’teven

haveaboatloadofpeoplewaitingformeinOakGrove.

“Is that true?” Deb looks honestly perplexed by my plans to once again ditch this subtropical oasis

otherwiseknownasGod’sicebox.

“It’strue,”Iassureher.“I’mmoreorlessalimitedtimedeal.”

“Oh,”shemusesasshelooksfromJaxtome.“ThatmustbewhyJaxyislappingitupwhilehecan.

Heneverwasonetopassupagooddeal.”Shegivesarathersadattemptatawink.“I’llleaveyoukids

alone,butbeforeIgo,Ihavetotellyouhowhappyseeingthetwoofyoutogethermakesyourmotherand

me.It’sasifthestarsaligned,andthetwoofyouhavefinallycometoyoursenses.”

“Wesurehave.”Iwrapmyarmsaroundhimseeminglyforshow,butaveryrealpartofmecravesto

holdhim.

Shecacklesupastormfromdownthehall.“It’sstillnottoolateforaJunewedding,youknow!”

“Nice.I’vesomehowmorphedintopublicenemynumberoneinyoursister’seyes,andyourmother

thinksI’dmakeagreatlongdistancedaughter-in-law.”

Heoffersatiredsmile.“Shedoesn’tgetthefactwe’vegotlives.”

“Right.”Asinseparatelives.“IhaveamountainofthingswaitingformebackinL.A.”Amountainof

lies.

Jax cocks his head just a touch. “And I’ve got to get back to work. Stade Steel doesn’t run itself,

unlessit’sintotheground.”

“Thatwouldbeprettyterrible.”

He offers a slow nod, his eyes steadying into mine. “It is pretty terrible.” He glances to the ode to

BugsBunnyonmyplate.“Youstillhungry?”

“Nope.” The wicked witch of the guesthouse and the battleax killed my masticating mojo. Okay, so

Deb isn’t your traditional battleax, but collectively, our mothers have landed me between Los Angeles

andahardpenis,sointhatregard,theybothqualify.

Jaxflashesthatdimpledgrin.“Youwannaseemyroom?”

DINNER

WAS

DISASTER

,andI’mnotsosureanyonereallygotmorethanafewbitesin,butIrefuseto

believe that the end result of that catastrophe had anything to do with me. It couldn’t have. I’ve known

those women all my life. My presence couldn’t possibly warrant abandoning a meal over. Kali clearly

wouldhaveratherbeenchasinghernewboytoyaroundamovietheater.AndJules,well—okay,soifI

hadn’taccidentlytrainedJensentocusslikeasailorshemighthavestuckitout.Whoknewthekidwould

takeupasuddeninterestinPardon-My-French?Besides,Julesalreadylookedlikeshehadanaxtogrind

—intomyforehead.IhadnocluethatneitherofJaxson’ssisterswouldwantmenearhim.Hismother,

though…gleefullypointingoutmyslumberparty?IbetsheandMomarebesidethemselveswithglee—

rollingaroundonthebedsheetJaxandImadeloveon,miningitforpubichairstopressintoalocket.

Madelove.Iwrinklemynoseatthethought.

“Doyourememberyourway?”

“Ofcourse,Ido,”Isay,leadingustothelefttowardahallofcloseddoors,eachsolemnlykeepingits

secretofwhatliesbehind.

“Close,butnocigar.”

“Well,goodthingbecauseIdon’tsmoke.”

Hegivesadeepheartylaughwhilenavigatingmebytheshouldersdowntothesecondhallinstead.

Darn it. I’ve always confused the two, but that’s to be expected when you find yourself in what

essentiallyamountstoalabyrinth.

Lastdoorontheleftstillhastheheightmarkerweonceetchedintohismolding,andIrunmyfinger

overit.Jaxlayshishandovermineandgentlyspinsmeintohim.There’sapainedlookinhiseyes,buta

dullsmileresonatesjustforme.

“You’vegrownintoabeautifulwoman,EightBall.”

“Ibetthat’swhatyoutellalltheladiesbeforetheycrossyourthreshold.Youcansavetheadulation.

Noneedtopandertomyego.”Igiveaslywink.“You’realreadysettogetlaid.”

“Ooh.”Hewincesashisheadblowsbackaninch.Jaxswingsthedooropen.“Welcometomymiddle

gradechamberofhorrors.Notmuchhaschangedinfifteenyears.”Heheadsovertothedresserandlights

afatwhitecandlesittingnearhisbed.“Atouchofromancejustforyou.”

“Thatcandlelooksasifit’sbeenlitatimeortwo.It’snicetoknowyouhavearoutine,though.”

Istepintotheodetonavyandoak.Asachild,IalwaysthoughtthatJaxson’sroomwascavernous,

andasanadult,Icanconfirmthatthisisverymuchtrue.Thewallsstillholdthatdarkserioushue.His

bed is the same oversized stately piece tucked under the window in the back. There’s a desk unit that

looksasifitcouldhouseacallcenterfortelemarketers,it’sthatbig—andatelevisionthesizeofthewall

tuckedinanentertainmentunit.

“I see you’ve made some technological upgrades since we last converged in your den of depravity.

Didyouknowtherewasactuallyaclubinhighschoolcomprisedsolelyofgirlsyoubeddedinyourcoital

chambers?Didyourmothercomeinfornightlysheetinspectionsthen,too?”

Hethundersoutalaughandwrapshisarmsaroundmywaist.Jaxsonlandsasoftkisstothenapeof

myneck,andIspinintohim.Thatcologneofhisalonecouldqualifyasmyundoing,butit’sthatheaven-

kissedface,thosedarkbrowsthatframethosehighbeamshecallseyes,thatkissablemouth,anddon’t

evengetmestartedonthescruff.Irunmynailsthroughitlightlyashisfingerspressintomyback.

Myeyessnagonthevastcollectionofmodelairplanesbehindhim,andmyheartcrashesandburns.

“Yousavedthem.”IsighasheturnstoseewhatI’msorivetedby.Jaxusedtorushhomeafterschool

justtoworkwiththosetinymeticulouspieces.

“Eachandeveryone.”Hepushesoutacontrolledbreathatthesight.“Mydadusedtositrightbeside

meandwe’dworkonthemtogether.EverytimeIlookatthem,Ithinkofhim.”Hischindipsamoment.

“Doyouevermisssomeonesomuchit’slikeaknifetotheheart?”

Yes,you.

“WhatamIsaying?”Heturnshisattentionbacktome.“Youprobablymissyourentirefamilyseeing

thatyou’resofaraway.”

“ThatorI’menjoyingthebuffer,”Itease.

Hischestpumpsasheexaminesmyfeatures.ThereisnothingasintenseashavingJaxson’swhite-hot

spotlight over you. Having Jax look at me this way makes me feel seen like never before. It’s as if his

eyes have the power to strip away the layers of who you’re pretending to be and get down to the raw,

hardlyrecognizablepersonthatyoutrulyare.Heseestherealyounomatterhowmanymasksyouwear.

JaxalwaysknewmebetterthanIknewmyself.ForsolongIrelegatedtohimtheroleasmyconscious.

He’sbrilliantandbeautiful,andIwishtoGodheweremine.Ofallthethingsnottoknow,howcanhenot

knowthat?

“Connersaysyou’rebuildingalife-sizedreplicaoftheWhiteHousesomewhereonthegrounds.”I

clearmythroatasIchangethesubject.AlthoughI’mnotsuremybrotherismuchofanimprovement.“I

supposeit’sneverreallygoingtogetlonelyoverintheWestWing.”Hisdimpleinverts,andmyfinger

pressesintoit.“Oldhabitsdiehard.Butbetterthemthanyou.”Iglancedowntothiscrotch,andweshare

adulllaugh.

“Comeseethehouse.”Hishandsswivelovermybackandwarmme.BeingheldinJaxson’sstrong

armsmakesmeneverwanttosetfootoutsidethatdoor.Hiseyesbearhardintomineasifhe’stryingto

tellmesomethingtelepathically.HeshouldknowbynowI’mnotanybetteratreadingbetweenthelines

asIamminds.“Iwantyoutodecorateit.IknowyouhavetogetbacktoL.A.,butatleastthiswayyou

canlookatitandmaybewecanworksomethingout.IcangetadesignerfromDenvertoworkwithyou,

andyoucanbossthemaroundwhileyou’reinL.A.Iwantyourhandinthis.Whatdoyousay?”

Myheartdropsforamoment.JaxsonseemsprettycontentwiththefactI’llbegonesoonenough.Of

course,Iwill.That’sjustreality,butapartofmewashopinghe’dgrovelalittletotrytomakemestay.

Or in the least drop a hint of what will become of us once I’m gone. Will we be gone, too? For some

reason,Ithoughtthewordswesaidthatnightinmybedroomweregospel.It’sbecomingpainfullyclear

I’veblownthingsoutofproportioninmyownmind.Idon’tknowwhythissurprisesme.I’maproatit.

“Yes!”IgatherallofthemockenthusiasmIcanmuster.“Areyoukidding?I’dlovetoseeit,and,of

course,I’llworkwithwhomever.IfI’mgoodatanything,I’mgoodattellingpeoplewhattodo.”Mylips

twitchasIinchmyfacetowardhis.“Lockyourdoor.”Iswallowhard.“I’dhatetohavehistoryrepeat

herself.”

“Alreadydone.You,myfriend,areanamateur.”

“Yougotmethere.”Irunalineoverhislipswithmyfinger.“Areyoureadyforyournextcommand?”

Hetickshisheadtotheside,amused.“Justletmeknowifyouneedawhipandachair.”

“Youareadirty,dirtyboy,aren’tyou?”

“Onlyuponrequest.”Thewickedgleaminhiseyesflickerstolife.

“Takeoffyourclothes.Iwanttoseeyou.”WhatImeantwas,thatIwanttoseeJaxthewayhesees

me,tothemarrow,butI’mnotsurethat’spossible.I’veneverheldhissuperpowers.

“Naked,partyofonecomingrightup.”Hepullsoffhisflannel,andbeforelonghisT-shirtgoesflying.

Abreathgetslockedinmythroat.Thereissomethingaboutabare-chestedmaninjeansthatmakesme

heady.

“Timeout.”Myhandsfindahomeoverhiswallofachestasmyfingersdriftdownandappreciate

everyhardridgethatmakesuphissix-pack.“Howinthehelldoyouevenhavethisbody?Areyoulifting

steelinthatfactoryofyoursinyoursparetime?Ifyoutellmethatyou’rebenchpressingblondes,Imight

havetodisownyou.”

“I prefer brunettes.” His fingers comb through my hair as if to score a brownie point, but his eyes

never leave mine. There’s a magnificent intensity when someone drills their gaze into your own. One’s

naturalinclinationleanstowardglancingaway,butwithJax,it’slikeanexclusivepartyI’vebeeninvited

toandcanneverseemtoleave.

“Again,you’regettinglaid,Stade.”God,isitawfulthatnotuntilthisverymomentdidIrealizehow

welllaidandStaderhyme?

“Don’t say that.” His finger strokes my cheek as his lids grow heavy. Damn, I love that drunk love

lookonhisfaceashismindbeginstounspool.

“Okay—howaboutthis?You’reabouttoembarkonanoraladventurecourtesyofmymouth.”Iland

myfingeroverhislipsbeforehecanprotest.“Everythingoff,now,Stade,andIdomeannow.”

His chest bucks with a quiet laugh. “You’re the bossiest girl I’ve had in my bedroom ever since—

well,you.”

“Youmustlikebossybecauseyou’vebroughtmebackformore.Sonomoretalking,Stade,”Isayhis

namerightoverhislips.“Droptrou.Iwanttoseethemerch.”

He works his jeans and every other stitch on his body off, slow as January. Jaxson never takes his

eyesoffmine,butIbreakthespell,stepback,andadmirehissturdyframe.MyeyessinktothathardV,

thewayitpayshomagetohisfantasticallyimpressiveerection.There’snodoubtJaxsonStade’sbodyis

builtforspeed,builttobeardentlyadmiredandvenerated,tobeproperlyworshiped.

SoIdotheonlythingIcan—droptomykneestodojustthat.

JAXSON

ncewhenwewerekids,IdaredPoppytojumpdownfrommytreehouse,andshetookofflikeabird

without hesitation. Thankfully, she landed safe on the waiting swampy grass below, spread out on all

fourslikeafrog.Irememberwatchingher,myheartstoppingasshesankdowntoearth.Ialsodistinctly

rememberthatdaybecausethefirstthoughtIhadwhenshehitthegroundwasthatgirlisgorgeous.AndI

meantbothinsideandout.ButitwasalsothefirsttimeIrealizedIlovedher.

Andherewearealltheseyearslaterandshecontinuestobetheonlygirl,theonlywomanwhotakes

mybreathaway.

Poppylooksupatmewithherkneessunktothefloor,herlipsfullandpuckeredlikeablowupdoll

justinchesfrommydick.Poppyiseverygrownman’swetdream.Thoseenormousdoeeyes,thosefoot-

longlashes.She’sajeweltolookat,butit’swhat’sontheinsidethatradiateshertruebeauty.

Shereachesoverandclapshercoolhandaroundme,pullingmetowardherasshewrapshermouth

aroundthetip,andIarchmyheadbackandsuckinabreaththroughmyteeth.Sheridesmeslow,upand

down, does this suction thing with her mouth that makes me ten times harder than before, and a roar

thundersthroughme.

PoppygetsmetheretentimesfasterthanI’veevergottenthere,butbeforeIloseit,Iscoopheroffthe

floorandlandaheatedkisstoherlips.

“Yourimpressiveskillsworrythehelloutofme.”

She bubbles out a laugh. “Be afraid. I have tricks up my vagina you will never see coming.” She

wrinkleshernose.“Wow,thatwaslacedwithunintentionalinnuendo.Iguessthatmakesmeanatural.”

“You are a natural.” I land a kiss to the nape of her neck before setting her on her feet. “A natural

temptress.”Iworkoffherlaceywhitetopandlayitgentlyonthenightstandasifitwereanewborn.I

startonherjeansandbeforetoolongrealizethatthismightbeanunattainablefeat.“Youtaketheseoff

withscissorsatnight?”

“No.”Shesnapsbackwiththatwrysmilebuddingonherlips.“Igetinthebathandletthepaintmelt

off.”

“I’dlaugh,butIneedtogetinthere.”

“Oh?Didyouloseacontactonyourlastvisit?”

“Ilostmymind.”Igiveherpantsaquickyank,andahorribletearingsoundemits.“Shit.”

Shesucksinaquickbreath.“Yourippedthem!”

“I’m sorry.” I hold my hands in the air a moment like the pants ripping asshole I apparently am. “I

swear I’ll replace them.” I try like hell to hold down a laugh. “I’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe to

makeupforit.”

“Fine.”HercheektwitchesbecauseIhappentoknowI’mspeakingherlanguage.Poppyhasbeena

clotheshorseforaslongasI’veknownher.“But,bewarned,Ihaveexpensivetaste.”

“I can see that,” I muse at her half-naked waist. “I imagine water-soluble pants can set you back a

prettypenny.”

“Setyouback.”Shedoesherbesttoshimmyoutofthem,buttheygetstuckaroundherhips.“IthinkI

justneedtogetonthebed.It’sanoldtrickyouboyswouldn’tknowanythingabout.”Sheflopsontothe

mattressbackwardandstartsgyratingherhipswhileherthumbshitchintothesidesofherpants.“Youjust

havetosortof—”

“Dotheworm?Oristhatthealligator?”

Shescowlsoveratmewhilehermovementsbecomemoreerratic.

A dull laugh huffs from me. “Why do I get the feeling you weren’t really looking to get any action

tonight?Heck,Idon’tthinkyouwerelookingtousethebathroom.Yougotadiaperonunderthere?”

“Shut up and start pulling.” She gasps as she twists her way toward me. “I think they’re starting to

give.”

Myfingersworkthemselvesintoherbeltloops,andIsecureafootoverthemattress,readytopants

herlikeapro.

“Holdontothegirls.Thesepantsaregoingdown.”Igiveaviolentyank,andtheydislodgewithease

asiftheyweresuddenlygreased.

Themomentumlandsmeslammingintothecurtains,andIdoaquickpivottokeepfromfalling.Iend

upwrappingmyselfinthecottonygauzebeforetripping—knockingthecandleoffthedresserandlanding

halftheleftsideofthebedroomontotheflooralongwithtakingdownthecurtainrod.

“OhmyGod!”Poppyroars.“Fire!”

“Fire?”Itrytopropmyselfup,butI’veencasedmyselfinawhiteveiledcocoon.Somethingheated

springsnearmyfeetasthecurtainsfillwithsmoke.

“Shit!”shecriesbeforebeatingthecrapoutofmewithapillow.

Theflamesrollforwardintoabrightredsurgeastheroomflickerswiththeimmanentblaze.

“Fuck.”Istumbletomyfeet,doingalittledancetogetmyselffreefromtheChineseyoyothecurtains

havebecome,andspotPoppyfanningmefromafar.“You’refeedingtheflames!”Itakethepillowfrom

herasIhopoutofthedamncontraption.

“Fire!”shehowlssoloudthecordsofherneckjump.“OhmyGod,we’regoingtodie!FIRRRE!”

Irollthecurtainupintoaballandslamthepillowovertheflames,smotheringthemtoawhimpering

whitebillow.IchokeonmynextbreathasIlungeforwardandopenthewindowasfarasit’llgo.Ihead

overandopentheslidertothebalconyaswell.

Asharppoundingslamsoverthedoor.“Everythingokayinthere?”

Poppycovershergirlpartswithherhandsintheeventmymotherisabouttotakeacuefromhers.

“Everything’sfine!”Ishoutback.

“ButIthoughtIheardsomeshoutingaboutafire!”Youcanheartheworryinhervoicerightthrough

thedoor.

IshakemyheadatPopsintheeventshefeelstheneedtospillthevelvetrippingdetails.

“It’sthesheets.”AdevilishgrincomestomeasIlookovertoPoppy.“ShesaysIsetthesheetson

fire.”

Poppyscowlsoveratmeamoment.“That’sright,Deb!”sheshoutsasloudasshecan.“Thisboyhas

someimpressivenightmoves!”

Youcanhearthetitteringcomingfromtheotherside.

“Youtwokidsgetbacktodoingwhateveritisyouweredoing!Don’tmindme.I’llbeofftobed.I

mightleaveafireextinguisheroutsidethedoorjustincase.Night!”

“Night,”Isay,lackluster.I’vehauledafewwomenupheresinceI’vebeenbackatthemainhouseand

notoncehasmymotherbeeninvolvedinanyoftheshenanigansthathavehappenedwithinthesewalls.

Butthen,there’sneverbeenafire.I’veneverhadmydicktrytofuckthefloor,orhadmybodywrapped

up like a mummy and then set aflame. I look to Poppy, standing before me in her tight lace bra, her

matchingpanties,andsuddenlyIforgetthatIhaveamother.“Neveradullmoment.”Myarmsfindtheir

wayaroundher,andmyfingershitchintoherpanties.“Everythingoff,now,”Itease,throwingherwords

rightbackather.

Shehuffsrightintomyfacewiththatcuteturned-upnoseofhers.“You’rethebossiestboyIknow.”

“Iamthebosstomany.”Myfingerrunsalongtheinsideofherbrastrap.“Iwouldn’tmindbeingyour

bossforafewhours.”

“Just a few hours?” Her strawberry red lips part as she taunts me. “You’re not as ambitious as I

thought.”

“No,butI’masdemanding—asdeterminedtogetwhat’smine.”Ireachbackandunhookherbrawith

aflickofthefingers,andthegirlsspringout,readytogreetme.

AsimplesmilefloatstomylipsasIpullthelingerieaway.

“Droptrou.”

“Yes, sir.” She hitches her thumbs into the sides of her panties, and slowly, ever so painfully, she

slidesthemdownherthighs.

Poppyisaboldbeauty,nothingbuttitsandass,andIhatethatmymindwentthere,butheresheis,

provingthatit’ssimplyafactnottobecontested.Myhandslatchontoherhips,andImoldmypalmsover

them.IlovethatPoppyhasneverbeenawaifofagirl,thatshe’salwaysappreciatedagoodburgeruntil

shedidn’t.Butshe’skepthercurves,hersexyassbodythatIusedto—andstilldo—slickofftointhe

shower.ImarvelasItakeherin.ThisisPoppy’sbody.MyPoppy.Thisgirlismine,andasbeastlyasit

sounds,shebelongstome.Shealwayshas,alwayswill.ThethoughtofPoppytakingoffinaweekand

findingsomeonenewmakesmybloodboil.Butthisisn’tthen—thisisnow.

Ileaninandstealaslowkissoffherlipsbeforetracingdownherneck,downtoherpillowsofttits,

down to her stomach until I fall on my own knees about to return the favor. I brush my face against the

gentlehairatthebasebeforepullingherthighstomyshoulders.Mymouthfindsahomeinthatsweetspot

I’ve been craving ever since I left, and I love her like that until she can’t breathe any more, until her

fingersthreatentopullouteverydamnhaironmyhead.Herkneeslockoverme,andherbodyshudders,

lettingmeknowshehithome.Ipullherbackandgentlylayherontothemattress.Hervelvetsofteyes

lookupatmineasshetriestocatchherbreath.

“Yourimpressiveskillsworryme,”shewhispersasalaughgetscaughtinherthroat.

“Yes,well,wouldyoubelieveIwashoningthemjustforyou?”Ipullherhandoverandkissit.

“No,” she flatlines. “But I’m grateful to reap the benefits. You should really consider a training

seminarforothermen.Youcanusemeasademonstrationmodel.Imighteventakearazortomylady

gardenjustfortheoccasion.”

IgroanattheideaasIpluckacondomfromthenightstand.“Iwouldneverwantyoutotakearazorto

thatGardenofEden.”

“Is this before or after the fall? You do realize thistles and thorns appeared after the fall. If you’re

likeningmypinkpartstoabriarpatch,I’montoyou,buddy.”

“Am I your buddy?” I land my knees on either side of her. My erection sits rock hard and painful

betweenhertitsasIrolloneon.Carefully,Ilowermyselfontomyelbowsasmychestadherestohers.“I

usedtobeyourbestfriend.”

“So you’ll admit it in the sanctity of your own bedroom.” She sucks in her bottom lip, her eyes

wellingwithtears.It’strue.Ihaddenieditonce.Wewereinhighschool,andshecalledmeoutonthe

fact in front of a group of girls, and I denied it. I was kidding around, but the moment grew tense, and

beforeIcouldrectifyit,itwasover.IwastheassthatIneverwantedtobe.

“I’msorry.”AllIcandoisshedthoseseeminglyemptywords,butifIcould,I’dgobackintimeand

erasethepainIsawinherfacethatday.“Whatwentwrong?”

“Really?”Sheblinkshardandgrindsherheaddeeperintothepillow.Herhandsflytomychestasshe

smacksme.“Youchosealousytimetopickapartthepast.”Shetakesinaquiveringbreath.“Maybeif

yourmomhasanicepancakespreadwaitingforusinthemorning,Imightplaythatgame.”Shegivesa

littleshrug.“Bytheway,Ilikeminewith—”

“Chocolatechips.”Itouchthetipofmynosetohers.“Iknow.Iknoweverythingaboutyou,Poppy.”

Mybreathingpicksupagain.“Iknowthatblueisyourfavoritecolor.IknowyousecretlyloveMondays

becauseyougetafreshstartandachanceatabrandnewweek.Iknowyoulovethewaytheworldsmells

afteritrainsevenifyoudidcompareittomyoldsweatsocksonce.”Herlipspartasshesighsintome.“I

know you love the sound of my mother’s doorbell, or at least you used to because you’d sit on it

wheneveryou’dshowup.”

“Itchimesforalmosttwominutes!”Shebubbleswithalaugh.“Anditsoundslikechurchbells.Who

doesn’tlovechurchbells?”

“You love basement parties. Getting donuts at three a.m.” I press a soft kiss to each of her eyelids.

“Youlovefishing,butyou’dnevertellyourgirlfriendsinfearthey’dcallyouatomboy.And,ofcourse,

youloveme.”

Achokingsoundcomesfromherthroat.

“That’sokay,Pops.”Mychestthumpswild.“Iloveyou,too.”Ilandmymouthoverhers,andmybody

makesitswayinsideher.

PoppyandIheatthosesheetslongintothenight.Wesettheroomonfireonourownterms.Herbody

ismadeforloving,andasmuchasIwanttokeepdoingjustthat,Iknowthatourtimeisabouttocometo

anend.

Iknowjusthowitfeelstomisssomeonesomuchit’slikeaknifetotheheart.

ImissedPoppyeverydamndayshewasgone.

PANCAKE

BREAKFAST

BUST

.PoppyandIeatontheflybecauseI’mlatetoameetingthatIforgotall

about. That’s what Poppy does to me. She makes me forget all about the world and all of its irrational

demandsasIturnmyuniverse,mylaserfocusrightontoher.

Bythetimethemeetingwrapsup,I’mwinded,tappedfromanightofnosleep,butstillplentybuzzed

fromtakingonetoomanyhitsoffthegirlofmydreams.Withoutmeaningto,thatgoofygrinsheinspires

keepsbouncingtomycheeks.I’mmoreknownformyscowlsthanIammysmiles,soIdomybesttoturn

downthevolumeonmynewfoundexuberance.

“Stade.”ConnercatchesmeasI’mpassinghisoffice.“Youhaveaminute?”

“Foryou?I’vegothalf,”IteaseasIstepintohislair.He’sgottheentireroompaintedadepressing

darkgray,withwaytoomuchfurnitureandnotenoughlight.EverytimeIstepinhere,Ican’tshakethe

feelingI’mabouttogetshanked.“What’sup,myman?”Ifallintotheseatacrossfromhim,andhepushes

abottleofwatermyway.

“Youlooklikeshit.Roughnight?”

“You guessed it.” And that’s about as far as I’m willing to journey with him down that thorny road

ladenwithhissister.ConnerandIhaveengagedinourfairshareoflockerroomtalk,butPoppyisoff

limits.Idon’tneedaroadmaptotellmethatit’sadeal-breakerasfarasourfriendshipgoes.

“So,whowasshe?”Heleansbackinhisseat,hisfingersmeetingatthetipsashestaresintentlyat

me.Thatemphaticglarecluesmeinonthefactheknowsexactlywhosheis.

Shit.Connerknowsbetterthanthis,doesn’the?Igetit.He’spissed.ButPoppyisawomanandI’ma

man—notthatI’mabouttomakethosefactsknowntohim.

“Comeon,Idon’tcare.Iknowwhat’sgoingonbetweenyouandmysister.”Heloosens.“Youhadme

goingthereforasecond.”Heblowsoutabreath.“Mackfilledmeinonityesterdayatlunch.Iwasabout

todigyouafreshgrave,andshesortofhelpedbringmebacktoEarth.Whydidn’tyoutellmethiswas

allsomeshowtopissoffourmothers?Dude,it’sfuckingbrilliant.”Hepicksupapencilandlobsitat

me,nearlymissingmyear.

“Yes.Brilliant.” A thousandthoughts sail throughme. In reality, Ihad long forgottenthis was just a

ruse.TheonlyhereandnowI’mwrappedupinisthefacttheclockiswindingdownonPoppy’svisit.I

forgotthefacttherearen’tanystringsattachedtothislittlesetup.“Ourmotherswillbefuming.”

Hebarkslikeasealwithalaugh.“Youhavenoclue.Allweheardgrowingupwasthefactthetwoof

youshouldbetogether.Theynevergaveyouanyotheroption,butI’mgladneitherofyouboughtintothat

crap.ThatwouldbelikememarryingPoppy.It’sfreakingnuts.”Heshudders.“Besides,shedeservesto

behappy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I’m tired and a touch hungry, which probably explains why his

wordspissedmeoff.

“It means she needs someone who’s there for her. You know, someone very unlike you. She needs

someone who’s going to treat her like a queen, cater to her. She’s high-maintenance emotionally. My

parentsreallydidadisservicetowhomeveritissheendsupwith.Shedemandstobeworshiped.”

Worshiped.That’sexactlywhatIdidlastnight.IgotonmykneesandpaidhomagetotheonlygirlI

everwantedtoloveinthatway.Poppyisn’tjustsomerandombedmate.She’smygirl.Shealwayshas

been,andifI’massmartasIthinkIam,shealwayswillbe.

“She’llbeoutofyourhairsoonenough,though.”Hepullsouthisphoneandstartsriflingthroughit.

“I’llmissher.Alwaysdo.Iguessshedoesn’treallyhaveareasontohangoutaroundhere,though.L.A.

hasthemagicthatOakGroveseemstobemissingforher.”

“Soundslikeit.”PoppyandIhadmagiclastnight.Hell,wehaveiteachtimewe’retogether.What

doesn’tsheseeaboutthat?Iforcemyselftogetupbeforethisconversationtakesanyleftturns.“Keepthat

stuffaboutthetwoofusclosetothevest,wouldyou?I’dhatetoruinthebigreveal.”Igruntatthethought

ofpullingtherugoutfromunderneathourmothers.I’mnotsurehowIeverthoughtthiswouldbeagood

idea.Yes,theirprankswouldhithardattimes,buttheywerejustthat,sillygags.Thisissomethingmore

we’redoinginreturn.We’reessentiallyabouttoriptheirheartsout.Andmostlikelymine,too.

“I’mnotsayingaword,dude.Youtwoareonyourownwiththatone.And,hey,Stade?”hecallsout

justasIhitthedoor,andIturntofindthatjoviallookonhisfaceallbutgone.“Keepyourgreasymittsoff

mysister,orI’mgoingtohavetokillyou.”Henodsatthebitterreality.

AbriefvisualofPoppysittingonmyfacebouncesthroughmymind.

“Willdo,buddy.”Iheadouttomyofficeandburymyselfinpaperwork.

HowthehelldidIgrowtobesuchaliar?

Asitturnsout,thingswithPoppyaren’tfeelinglikesuchalieanymore.

RISQUÉBUSINESS

POPPY

heMischievousMavens’BakingBloghasbeeninvitedtotheprestigiousDenverBunintheOven

BakeOff.Withsuchdistinguishedaccoladesinthebounds,ofcourse,bothJaxandIacceptedtheiroffer

tojoininonthefestivities.Besidesthefactthateatingallthefreshbakedcookieswecouldstuffourfaces

with,weappreciatethatthiswillbeourfinalforayintousury,trickery,andthelike.

The clock is ticking on our little mama-inspired love-fest, and if we really want to stick it to those

twobiddies,weneedtoputonashowlikenoother.Whenyouthinkaboutit,thebigbirthdaybashitself

willbethedismantlingofallourhardwork,sothisisthebigbuildupbeforewewalkthetwoofthem

overthelandminewhereourtruegiftliesinwait.I’mprettysuremyownheartwillblowtosmithereens

atthatmoment,too.HowinthehellIeverthoughtthiswasagoodideaisbeyondme.

Startlinglytruetoitsname,theBunintheOvenBakeOfffeaturesabevyofwomenwith,infact,abun

intheoven.I’mnotsurehowfeaturingwomenwhoovulatedandfertilizedataboutthesametimeantesup

their baking skills, but it’s clear they’ve been given preferential treatment when juxtaposed against the

menopause set comprised of those mischievous mavens. There’s no way it’s a coincidence all the best

bakersgotknockedupatonce.I’mbettingthathavingallofthesepreggosrunningaroundiswhatbrought

thenationalmediatothesemen-infestedyard.

MomandDebwalkJaxandmeproudlythroughtheconventionhall,introducingustothewho’swho

in the baking world, and with each introduction, they not only beam with a little more pride, they flare

withalittlemoreembellishments.

Deb clasps her hands as we come upon a stately looking gentleman with a tag around his neck that

readsJudge.

“ReginaldO’Keefe!”Debsquawks.“Youmustmeetmysonandhisdarlingfiancée.”

Jax and I exchange a quick glance. I have to pause for a moment to add that Jax Stade looks

phenomenalinathree-piecesuit,whichleavesmebreathlessandwetterthanaslipandslide.I’mnotat

alloffendedtobecalledhisplusoneevenifitisjustabigput-on.

“A Stade in the making!” Judge O’Keefe offers me a congratulatory handshake as if I just won the

fiancélottery,andinalotofways,includingfiscally,itdoes.“Andwhataluckyman!”Andheiswise.

HeslapsJaxovertheback.“She’sabeauty.Ialwayssaywhystartwiththehousefrauwhenyoucanskip

righttothetrophywife?Sotheyworkforpurses.Sowhat?”Heshrugsoffthedisgustingsuggestion.“At

leastshe’llkeepyouhappywhereitcountsmost.”

Andheisanasshole.

Jaxlooksovertome.“Poppyisthemostintelligent,bravest,kindestwomanIknow.Itrulydofeel

lucky.”Hepresseshismesmerizinggazeintominewhilekissingthebackofmyhand.

MomandDebexplodewithsighswhilethejadedjudgetakestheopportunitytomakearunforit.

It happens again and again—Mom and Deb introduce us freely as fiancés. Soon, they have me

relocatingbacktoOakGrovewherearugrat’sempireiscomingsoontoavaginanearme.

A buzzer goes off overhead, and all of the contestants waddle to their posts. Deb and Jax make a

beeline for a stack of brownies, but I take the opportunity to pull my dear old delusional mother to the

side.

“Whatisthatallabout?”Ihiss.ApsychoticallyecstaticpartofmeiselatedtohavethetitleofFuture

Mrs.Stade,butthelogical,bare-fingered,farmorerootedinrealityversionofmyselfisfightingmadthat

mymothertheloonisfeedingintothisnonsense.

“Oh,honey,it’sboundtohappen.”Sheoffersmeakisstoeachcheekasifinherdescentintomadness

she’s suddenly morphed into a European socialite. “I’ve always thought you’d make a beautiful bride.”

Shewagsanunsteadyfingeratme.“Don’ttellyoursister,butyouhavetheboobstowearasweetheart

necklinelikenobody’sbusiness.Waybackwhen,Isuggestedthatsheoptfortheturtleneck,butyou—you

canplungestraighttoyourbellyifyouwanted.We’llgetthegirlstogetherandheadtoKleinfeldBridalin

New York.” Her hands rise over her head as if she were doing the wave. “We’ll have lunch in

Manhattan!”Shedoesalittlereindeerprance.

Ohholyhell.IdoaquickglancebackatJaxwho’sfrowningoverthetwoofusinjudgment.Ican’t

blamehim.I’mjudgingus,andI’mverymuchapartofthemadness.

“You’redelusional,”Iquip,tryingtosubduethebizarreflailingoflimbsonherpart.“Whoareyou,

andwhyareyoudissingmysister’srack?”

“Oh,hush.”Shecomesclosetosmackingmewhilepawingattheair.“You’vealwaysbeensocrude.

You get that from your father’s side of the family.” She gives my cheek a quick pinch. “Mingle—have

somefun.I’vegotanawardtowin.IfyouthinkI’mlettinganyofthesemillennialmamaswalkawaywith

mytrophy,you’rethedelusionalone.”

Momtakesoff,andJaxcomesandoffersmeabrownieasifitwereapeaceoffering.

“Sorry.”Iwrinklemynoseatthemosthandsomemanintheroom.Thereareonlyaboutthreemenina

six-mileradiusofthisplace,butJaxqualifiesasthemosthandsomemanjustthissideofheaven.

“IfeellikeI’mtheonewhoshouldapologize.HereI’mengagedtothemostbeautifulwomaninthe

world,andIhavenoring.”Hepullsmyhandupandlandsakisswhereatheoreticaldiamondshouldbe.

Myheartmeltsseeingmylongtimefriendsoachinglysweetandromanticwithalloftherightwords

attheready.WhoknewthattheboyImademudpieswithwouldgrowuptobeacrownedprince?Me.

That’swho.

“I’m sure when the time is right, you’ll have something spectacular planned for the lucky girl.” My

throatrubsdryatthethoughtofhisfuturehussy.

Jaxsteadieshiswaterybluesovermine.“IguessIshouldstartthinkingaboutit.”

“Really?”Myheartthudsanddropstomyfeetinacartoon-worthymaneuver.“Imean,ofcourse,you

should.Ifyoukeepsleepingaround,yournadsaregoingtoturnintotwogiantblistersfromtheantibiotic

resistantrashyou’resuretocontract.”

“Whataboutyou?”Hegivesaslightwinkasifcallingmeoutonmyownpathdownablisteringrash

alley.

“Areyoukidding?I’mchasteincomparison.Ifanything,myvaginawillresealitselffromlackofuse.

It’ssafetosayIcanstartonmyvastcollectionofficklefelinesonceIgetbackhome.Ofcourse,they’ll

betheexoticBengalvariety.IfI’mgoingtobetherequisitecrazycatlady,I’mgoingdowninstyle.”

Hisdimplesigniteatthethoughtofmyfurryharem.“Andwhataboutmarriage?”

I shoot a quick glance to my mother, then to my cleavage. “My mother swears I’d look great in a

weddingdress,butI’dneedsomeonewholooksequallygreatinatuxtostandbymyside.Andasoflate,

Ijustdon’tseeanyprospects…”ImeanttofinishitwithbackinL.A.,butI’ddieofmortificationifJax

thoughtIwashintingthathefillsthoseItalianleathershoes.

I glance down at his Italian leather shoes and smirk because he is the one and only candidate I’d

consider.

Heleansinclose.Hiswarmcolognewrapsitsspicedarmsaroundme.“Andwhataboutkids?”

MyheartthudsunnaturallyasIlookupatmychildhoodfriendturnedplayboy.

“What about them? I mean, if I had the right person in my life”—such as you—“I’d probably have

fifty.”

Hebeltsoutalaugh.Jaxson’sarmfindsahomearoundmywaist,anditfeelsnaturallikethiswith

him.Myhandlandsoverhischest,andIcan’thelpbutgazelovinglyintohiseyes.Strangelyenough,I

don’tfeeloneounceofawkwardnessbecauseIhappenedtocatchMomandDebpointingtheirphonesin

ourdirection.Morefodderforthescrapbooktheywouldhaveundoubtedlygiftedusatthewedding.

“Fiftyisaniceroundnumber.”Hetwistshislipsamoment,deepinthought.“IguessifIhadtheright

girlbymyside,I’dwantatleastthatmany.Iwanttobeahands-onfatherlikemydadwas.Littleleague

coach,ballet,whateverthesport,I’llplaycoachifthey’llletme.”

Jax Stade is melting me and simultaneously causing my womb to riot for his seed. What in the hell

was I thinking letting this demi god use a condom? I could have gone back to L.A. happily knocked up

with his baby. Although, separating myself from him by over a thousand miles makes that Super Dad

scenarioratherfarfetched.

Myarmsfloataroundhiswaist,andIpullhimasIcowerundertheumbrellaofhisstatelyframe.IfI

hadanyladyballswhatsoever,I’dtakethischocolatechipcookiescentedmomenttotellhimexactlyhow

Ifeel.ButIdon’t.

“You are going to make a great dad someday, Gordo.” It comes out sad, defeated as if he won the

parentaltug-of-war,andhe’stheonlyoneofustogoontoplaythatprocreationgame.

“Hey”—heliftsmychinandcatchesmygaze—“you’regoingtomakeagreatmom.Ican’twaittosee

it.” Here it is, my very last moment to say something, anything that might imply that these nebulous

childrenwe’reclamoringformightbeoneandthesame.Mymouthopens,andnothingbutdeadaircomes

out.

“Maybeourkidscanplaytogether?”Andthat,myfriends,iswhatcowardicesoundslike.Between

youandme,itdoesn’tsmellmuchbetter.Icaneffectivelyfiremydeodorant.Butinmyhormonaldefense,

beingthisclosetoJaxhasalwaysbroughtmetomysweatyknees.

“Yeah.”Alengthybreathexpiresfromhim.“Maybetheycan.”

MomandDebpulloutthewinandtakehomethegrandsupremebakingprize,whichonlysolidifies

theirstancethattheycandonowrong.

“We’re winning at life!” Mom chimes as they come at us with their newfound hardware—a gilded

sliceofcakewithaflagspikeinitreadingBakeOffChampions.

“Oh, Char”—Deb pulls Jax and me in for a congratulatory group hug—“with these two together,

we’vealreadywonthegrandprize.”

Mompressesherhandtoherchest.“I’veseenalotinmylifetime,butI’llbehonest,Ihadgivenupon

seeingthetwoofyoutogether.”

Jaxwrapshisarmaroundmywaistandpullsmeinclose,butneitherofuslosestheheavylookwe’re

givingourmothers.

Mom nods, touching his cheek then mine. “If God took the breath from my lungs at this moment, I

couldhonestlysayIdiedhappyknowingthetwoofyouwererightwhereyoubelong—inoneanother’s

arms.”SheandDebcoointooneanotherasasmallcrowdheadsovertogawkattheirtrophy.

JaxandIstepawayastheybaskintheirglory.

“Wow, Gordo”—I turn to look at my partner in crime—“it’s going to be a real crap-fest once we

breakthenews.”

Those magical dimples of his invert as a wicked grin slowly materializes. “Homecoming dance,

freshmanyear—mymothershowedupasmydate.”

A short-lived laugh expels from me. “Try junior year geometry class, my mother showed up in a

bathrobe and curlers with a sack lunch she claimed I forgot. A sack lunch! It was a trifecta of

humiliation.”

Hegivesaknowingnod.“Seniorprom—ourmotherswonthehonorarytitlesofbothkingandqueen.”

“Damn,theyweregood.”Igiveawistfulshakeofthehead.“Graduationday—amomentwetoiled

thirteenlongyearstoachieve—theyworematchingMinnieMousecostumes,andthusstoleourthunder.”

“LesboMinnieswereahit,though,”henotes.

“True,buttheyreallyscreweduppicturesforus.ItlookedlikewewenttoDisneyHigh.”

“So, what do you think?” His fingers press in over my ribs, and I can’t help but drink down the

sensationknowingeverythingtouchy-feelybetweenusisliterallybarrelingtoanend.

Ishedacrookedgrin.“Ithinkthebitcheshaveitcoming.”

Andinthemotherofallironies,theywouldhavestuckinonelastparalyzingjabwithoutrealizingit.

In an effort to give them their comeuppance, I’ve impaled myself right through the heart on the flashing

swordofrevenge.

IwishIcouldturnbacktime.I’dtakebackallofthatbullshitregardingMilesFrampton.

Instead,hereIamwithaveryrealshatteredheart.

Whoknows,maybeIhaditcoming,too.

FTER

LONG

AFTERNOON

testing the limits of our blood sugar levels, Jax and I decide to reconvene at

StarryNightsforanothercarbohydrate-ladenbite.Iheadovertomeethimthereandsnuggleinaseatnear

thebackasthehousebandplayssappylovesongsformybleedingheart.

Atoffice,runninglate.Seeyouinafew!

Insteadofscowlingintomyphone,Iofferupadreamysmile.ThisisexactlywhatitwouldbelikeifI

reallyweremarriedtoJax.Afterallthattalkaboutengagementringsandhowgreatmyboobswouldlook

inasweetheartneckline,I’lladmitI’veindulgedabitinallthingsweddedbliss.Jaxwouldbeagreat

husband.Forone,hecanhandlejustaboutanythingmyacidtonguedishesout.Andsecondly,thatface,

that hair, that body. Jax Stade is a king, and I would gladly sign up to be his lifelong queen should the

propositionarise.Butafterlisteningtothespielaboutourchildrenmaybesomedaygoingonplaydates,it

doesn’tsoundlikethethronenexttohisawaitsme.

I spot Mack sitting in the back of Starry Nights, and she waves me over like she’s the last Titanic

survivoronafloatingdoorwaitingforrescue.

“What’sup?”IofferaquickembraceasItakeaseat.Mack’sJ’Adoreperfumepermeatesthearea,

andItakeinahugegulpingsniff.I’vealwaysappreciatedthewayhavingMackinmypresencemakesme

feelasifI’vejusthadanicerefreshingbath.IneedtopickupabottlejustsoIcanspritziteverynowand

againwhenImissher.

“You’re up.” Her eyes spin like Vegas slot machines. “Mom has lost her ever-loving mind! She

actually took her wedding dress down from the attic and said she was going to gift it to you at your

engagementpartyintheeventyouwantedtoalterit.DidImisssomething?”

“God!”Isqueal,giddyovertheprospectofanengagementparty.It’ssafetosayI’vebeensweptupin

HurricaneCharandDeb.“We’vecreatedacategoryfivemonster.”

“Ican’twaittoseetheirfacesonceyoudothebigreveal.”Mackgivesadeviouschuckle.“Haveyou

thoughtabouthowyou’regoingtodoit?AtfirstIwasthinkingabigblowoutmightbethewaytogo,but

knowingthosetwo,they’llspendtherestofthenightshootingforareconciliation.”Shepursesherlips,

andtheytouchthetipofhernose.“Astraightforward,thiswasallabigfatlieinyourhonormaybethe

betteroption.YoumightwanttothrowahuzzahinthereandmaybeahighfivewithJax.Ibetyou’reboth

readytohavethisbehindyou.Imean—he’snotbadontheeyes,butcomeon—droolingoveroneanother

thewayyoutwohave—isreallytakingonefortheteam.Noonecanaccuseyouofnotbeingallin.”

“Idoliketocommit.”Withmyentireheartandsoulandeveryfiberofmybrokenheartedbeing.

Mack glances over my shoulder and grunts, “Well, look who’s here on our brother’s arm looking

crispyasachipinabag.”

IturntofindLarissaheadedthiswaywhileConnermakesastopatthebar.IsitwrongthatIhatehow

stunningsheis?Thatperfect,long,wavydarkhair,thosepuffedoutseverelycoloredinredlips.I’ddie

tohaveboth.

“Youknow”—Mack’seyesgetsquirrelyasshespiesourbrother—“there’ssomethingIneedtotalkto

Connerabout.I’llberightback.”Sheskipstothebar,andLarissaplopsrightinherseat.Itneverfailsto

surprise me the way she carries herself so impeccably perfect. When we were in high school, Sadie

nicknamed her “The Mannequin” for her unchanging hair and makeup that seemed to be fade and wind

resistant. Everything about her is as fake as her personality. If the inside matched the outside, I’d fear

she’dstealJaxoutfromunderme—notthathe’sactuallymine.Thatrevelationalonepullsmeunder.

“Soyourmother’sbigshindigiscomingupthisweekend,”shetrills,guffawingatmeasifthatlittle

shindigshejustreferencedwerereprisalofourseniorprom.

“And?” I steal a sip of Mack’s Long Island Iced Tea and immediately regret it, using her chips and

salsaasachaser.

“And”—shetipsherheadsoseverelyI’mhalf-afraidshe’shavingaseizure—“alittlebirdietoldme

that you and lover boy are nothing but a big fat fake.” She bounces in her seat, unable to hide her

uncontainableglee.

“Whatlittlebirdie?”Iaskcurtwithasuddenurgetofindthenearest12-gaugeanddoalittlehunting.

“Theproudpeacockhimself.JaxsonStade.”

Myentirebodystingswithsurprise.“Whatexactlydidhetellyou?Andwhen?”I’mabouttoreach

overandshakethedetailsoutofthisvindictivepieceofplasticwhensheholdsupafingerinaneffortto

subduemyrage.

“Don’tworry.I’mnotsayingaword.”Acatwhoatethecanarysmiletakesover,andIcanpractically

seethepeacockfeatherpreeningfromherlips.“He’sswornmetosecrecy.JaxknowsIcanbetrusted.

We’regoodfriends.”

Afistformsinmythroat,andIpainfullyswallowitdown.“When?Howdidhebringthisup?”

Shechortlesoutashort-livedlaugh.“Whenthepersonyou’repracticallylivingwithsuddenlyupand

gets a girlfriend, things can get dicey. He just wanted to assure me—you know, set the record straight.

We’reprettytight.Hetoldmeyou’releavinginafewdays.”Shewinces.“Ihopethat’senoughtimefor

youtocomfortyourpoormotheronceshehearsthetruth.Thisisgoingtosendherintoanearlygrave.

Boy,whenyouhitback,yougoforthejugular.”ShegivesalittlewinkasMackandConnerjoinus.

Conner wraps an arm around her as if claiming her for his own. I may be embroiled in a fake

relationship with Jaxson, but it’s clear to me Larissa is currently in one with my brother. Larissa

mentionedthatsheandJaxsonwerepracticallylivingtogether.Idoubtthatsincehe’sactuallylivingwith

hismotheratthemoment,butshedoesworkwithhim—andOakGroveisaverysmalltown.I’mpretty

sure he’s dipped his wick into that toxic sludge she has sloshing between her legs. That sex graph they

show you in sixth grade comes flooding back to me. If I slept with Jaxson, that means I’ve technically

donethedeedwitheveryonehe’severmattresstackled.It’slikesomesyphilispyramidschemethatI’ve

unwittinglybecomeapartof.

“Here’sthemanofthehour.”LarissahopstoherfeetandassaultsJaxbeforehehasthechancetosay

hello.Iwatchwithanewfoundscrutinythewayhishandglidesdownherback,howheleansintothat

kiss she plants on his cheek, and a raging fire pulses through my veins. So it’s true. They have a thing.

Theyhaveathing?Istillcan’tseemtoreconcilethatthought.

Jax sits next to me and offers a friendly side hug—friendly being the operative word. So, all that I

loveyoustuffwasjustsomethingakintowhitewashedfeelingsyoumighthaveforsomedistantrelative?

A part of me was hoping that he would wake up and smell our fresh-baked future together. I thought it

couldtrulybeasrosyaswebuiltituptobe.

“Have you eaten?” He leans in with that sexy smile, and it kills me to see him looking so good,

smelling like fresh washed clothes mixed with expensive cologne. He’s wearing a blue and white

checkered flannel that sets off his eyes like a blaze, and I would do anything to dip my tongue in that

dimplewinkingmywayatthemoment.Buthe’snotmine.Andjustlikethat,ithitsme.Heneverwillbe.

“Um—Ihaven’t.”Itouchmyfingerstomytemple.“I’mactuallystartingtogetabitofaheadache.I

thinkI’dbettergethome.It’sbeenalongday,andwehaveabigcelebrationcomingrightup.Imightneed

alloftomorrowjusttoprepforthebigday.”

ConnerandLarissabreakoutintolaughteroversomethingshesaid—I’daccuseherofslightingme,

butIdoubtConnerwouldtoleratethatfromLarissaoranyoneelse.He’salwaysbeenaratherprotective

bigbrother.

ButMack,ontheotherhand,isbusyeavesdroppingonmewhiledraggingherfriesthroughtheblobof

ketchuponherplate,makinglittleheartsoverandoveragain.Thenerve.

Jaxpullsmyseattowardhisandhitchesthehairbehindmyear.“Wecanmakeitquick.It’llbefun.

RissandConnerarehere.”

Riss?

MyeyeswidenwithabjecthorrorattheobviousinsightI’vebeenmissingouton.ClearlyRiss was

comingfromaplaceofhonestywhenshementionedthefactsheandJaxwereprettytight.

“Whydon’tyouhangoutwithRissandConner?I’dhateforyoutomissoutonallthefun.”Thewords

couldn’t come out more deadly if they were laced with arsenic. “I’ll see you on Saturday for the big

reveal.”Icinchmypurseovermyshoulder.“Don’tcallme.I’llcallyou.”

I head out into the snow, into freezing subarctic temperatures, and slip and slide all the way to my

mother’s loaner car. In hindsight, I can’t wait to get back to L.A. where at least all of my fake

relationshipsareontheupandup.

ComeSaturdaynight,JaxsonandIareoverforgood.

JAXSON

llnightIsentPoppytextmessages,andallnightshecontinuedtoignorethem.

It’salongdayattheoffice,andbythetimeIwrapthingsup,it’sdarkasshitoutside.

Istartpackingupmybriefcase,andashadowdarkensthedoor.Foramoment,I’mfilledwithhopeas

a female frame swivels in the shadows, and just as I’m about to call out for Eight Ball, Larissa’s face

comesintoview.

“You’reherelate.”Ifinishbuttoningupmybriefcaseandheadforthedoor.

“Justaslateasyou.Ithinkyou’reworkingmetoohard.”Shereachesupandgivesmyearlobeatug

aswemakeourwaytotheelevator.

“Sorryaboutthat.It’sFridaynight.YoushouldbeouttherehavingagoodtimewithConner.Howare

thingsgoingwiththetwoofyou,anyway?”I’lladmitIwasn’timpressedwhentheystartedgettingclose,

buttheyreallydidappeartogetalonggreatlastnight.NotthatIstayedafterPoppytookoff.Ihitthedoor

rightaftershedid.

“Conner?”Shelaughsatthethought,andmyheartbreaksformygoodfriend.“We’rejustfriends.”

Theelevatoropens,andIstepinafterher.

“Don’tworry,Jax.”Shegivesmytieaquicktug.“OncePoppyleaves,youcanhaveyourplaceback

onmymattress.”

Myheartsinks.I’vesleptwithLarissa,exactlytwice,andIdon’tplanonpartakinginthatmadness

everagain.ThethoughtofbeingwithanyoneatalloncePoppyleavesmakesmyballswanttoshrivelup.

“Youdon’tneedtosavethatspotforme.”ItcomesoutfarmoredespondentthanImeantitto.

“Wow.She’sscrewingwithyourhead,isn’tshe?”

“No,notatall.PoppyandIaregood.”Arewe?Thatsoundslikethebiggestlieoftheyear.

“That’sfunny.Shejustabouttoldmethesamething.Shesaysshecan’twaittogetbacktoL.A.and

getonwithherlife.Soundslikeshe’sprettytiredofthischaradethetwoofyouhavegoingon.”

Myheartstops.“Youdidn’tsayanything,didyou?”

“Whome?Never.Mylipsaresealed.”Sheglancestomycrotch.“Untilyouwantthemopened.”

I’mquicktolookawayfromtheinvite.ButI’mrelievedshedidn’tsayanythingtoPops.Afewdays

agoLarissaevidentlyoverheadMacklettingConnerinonourdirtylittlesecret,andshecametomefor

affirmation. My hands were tied, so I told her it was true. But I know that she and Poppy have butted

headsmoretimesthannot,andI’dhateforRisstosomehowusethissituationtoneedleher.

Wegoourseparateways,andIsitinmytruckforaminute,sendingonelasttexttoPoppy.

It’sourlastnighttogetherbeforewedismantlewhatourmothersarealreadytoutingastheirgreatest

livingachievement,andIwouldlovetoseePoppy.Hell,Ineedtoseeher.

It’snotlikehertoignoreeverytextIsend.

Youeitherlostyourphoneoryoujustrememberedyouhatemyguts.Wanttogivemeahint?

AsplayfulasItrytosound,IhatethewordsasItypethembecauseIthinkIknowwhattheanswerwill

be.

Amomentthumpsby,andthenmiraculouslymyphonelightsup.Phone’shere.

I can’t help but expel a dry laugh. “Smart ass.” At least she feels something for me—too bad it’s

disdain.

Myheartgrowsasheavyastheworld.Iusedtofeelherdisappointmentinme,herdislike,distrust,

andIneverunderstoodwhereitwascomingfrom.Timesteppedbetweenus,andthenshewasthreestates

awayinCalifornia.I’dlovetoclearthingsup.Getsomeanswers.Icanhandlethefactshedoesn’tlike

me,butI’mdeterminedtofindoutwhy.

Idon’ttextback.Instead,IstartthecarandheadonovertotheMontgomeryhouse.

Maybeafteralltheseyears,I’llfinallygettheanswersI’vebeenlookingfor.

MOON

FULL

,castingitsbrilliantblueshadowoverthesnowthatoutlinestheroad.TheMontgomery

homeisdarkasatomb,andtheonlylightaroundistheonecomingfromPoppy’soldbedroom.Myheart

warmsatthesightofit.That’swherePoppyandIfirstmadelove.Shebecamemineinthemostintimate

way,andIwasmorethanhappytohaveher.I’veneverfeltasstronglyforanyoneasIdoforher,andit

madeeverythingthathappenedthatnighttentimesmoremeaningful.

Insteadofscaringheroffwithanothertext,Ipickupahandfulofchangefrommydashandheadout

justunderherwindow.Carefully,Itosscoinaftercoinupattheglassuntilthelightsgooffinherroom

andherfaceblinksintoview.

Ijumpupanddown,wavinguntilherwindowslidesopen.

“DoIneedarestrainingorder?”Shelaughsthroughherwords.

“No,youneedacoat.Getsomeshoeson,too.There’ssomeplaceIneedtotakeyou.”

IttakeslessthanfiveminutesforPopstoshowupatthedoorandshuffleherwayouttomeinwhat

lookslikeherPJsunderneathabrightpinksnowjacketthatcomesdownpastherknees.She’swearing

snowbootswithrainbowsprintedoneithersideofeachshoe,somethingtheysellatthesupermarketfor

touriststhistimeofyear.ButjustseeingPoppy,thatsmilebeggingtoletlooseonherface,makesmyheart

soartothenextgalaxy.

“Youlookbeautiful.”

Shegrowlsinlieuofaresponse,andIholdupmyhands.“Easy,girl.Howaboutthis?Youcomewith

meandletmeshowyouwhatIhaveplanned,andwedon’tneedtosayawordtooneanotheruntilweget

there.”

Sheshakesherhead,thevenominhereyesonlyslightlysubduing.“Tryagain,Gordo.”

“Fine.Ifyou’regoingtobelikethat,thenwedon’thavetosayawordtoeachotheratall.”

“Better.”Hermouthcontortsasifshe’scarefullychoosingherwords.“Anddroptheattitude.”

“Myattitude?”She’sgottobekidding.“Deal.”Thisisn’taboutmetryingtocontrolherorGodforbid

pissheroff.Ijustwanttoshowhersomething.Maybegleanafewanswersformyselfintheprocess.

Poppyhopsintomycar,andIdriveusdowntomymother’sestate.Wepassmyfuturehome,which

looks like nothing more than a skeleton of what it will be. The contractor put off construction for six

weeks until the weather clears a bit, and I offer a mean look to the project as if it were the contractor

himself.

Insteadofpullinginclosetothehouse,Icurvearoundtowardthatoldancientoaksetinfrontofthe

circulardrivewayandkilltheengine.

“Remember this?” I glance up at the mega structure my father built for me, the tree house in which

Poppy and I spent hours doing everything and nothing. It’s solid as far as construction goes. It has four

walls and a roof, and there’s a window in the ceiling that rolls open so you can star gaze without

obstruction.

Wegetout,andshefollowsmetotheothersideoftheenormoustrunkwhereIgivethetrunkagood

kickandsnowtumblesdowninchunks.

“Ladiesfirst,”Iofferwhilepresentingthetreehouseasifitwereaprize.Itis.Oratleastitusedto

be.

Poppygruntsasshestartsuptheoldwoodenstepsnailedintothetree.Ifollowclosebehinduntilshe

makesherwayinside,andIheadinrightafterher.

“It’sfreezinginhere!”Shefallstoherkneesoutofhabit.It’stallenoughforbothofustostand,but

thefirstthingweusedtodowhenwemadeourwayupwasgetonthefloorandstartinontheserious

businessofchildhood.

“I’vegotasolution.”Irolloutacoupleofoldsleepingbagsthathavebeenstoredinhereforyears

andsprawlthemoutovertheclapboardflooring.Thewindowintheceilingiscoveredwithasmallfilm

ofsnow,soIgiveitafewquickthumpsuntilitslidesrightoffandrolldowntheglass,exposingustoa

navynightfilledwithamilliondiamondstars.

Wordlessly,PoppyandIassumethepositionshouldertoshoulderaswelieonourbacksstaringupat

thedarkstarrynight.

“Don’thateme,Pops,”Iwhisper.

“Icameunderthepretensethattherewouldn’tbeanyconversing,”shewhispersrightback.

“I’mbreakingtherules.”

A silent laugh bucks through her chest. “You always do. Your world, your rules.” She snuggles her

shoulderupagainstmine.“Youknow,IneveroncethoughtthattheStademillions—excuseme,billions

evergotintoyourheadoryourego—butIguessIwaswrong.”

“Geez, Eight Ball, relax. I just thought we should have a conversation. Tomorrow is it.” Not that I

wantittobe.“Iwantedonemorenight,justyouandme.”

“Justone,”shesaysthewordssolowImighthaveimaginedthem.

“I’mgoingtomissyou.”There.Igrewapairandsaidit.

“That’snice.”Andsheslicesmyballsrightoff.

“CanIaskyouaquestion?”

Aheavysighexpelsfromher.“Idon’tseehowIcanstopyou.”

“Okay—whatwassospecialaboutMilesFrampton?”

“Ha!”shesquawksitoutsoloudanowldartsrightpastthewindow.“Wouldn’tyouliketoknow?

Whatwassospecialaboutthetwomillionskanksyou’vesleptwith?”

“Nothing.Absolutelynothing.Isweartoyou,”Ibleeditoutwiththefervorofahusbandaccusedof

cheatingonhiswife.That’soddlyhowitfeelsaroundPops,likewe’vebeenmarriedforyears.It’snot

alwayssuchagoodthing.

“Whydoyoucare?Mileswasonepersonwhowasinmylifeforlikefivesecondsoveraneonago.”

“Ido.”Mileswasthefirstpersonanyonehadeverleftmefor.IwantedPoppytolikeme,tolookat

methewayothergirlsdid,and,instead,sheturnedherinterestselsewhere.WhatPoppydoesn’tknowis,

thatfastforwardtograduationday,Iwasdeterminedtoendthecoldwarbetweenus.IaskedConnerto

helporchestrateapeacetreaty.Iwasgoingtomeetheratthebaseofthisoakwhereweoncesharedour

firstkiss,albeitaninnocentpeckatthetenderageofseven.

Iclearmythroatabit.“Weweregooduntilweweren’t.Whathappened?”

“That’sancienthistory,Gordo.”Herhandflopsbyherside,andI’mquicktolaceourfingerstogether.

“I’vealwaysbeenafanofstudyingthepast.”Iswallowhardatwhatcomesnext.“DidIdosomething

toupsetyou?”

“Notreally.”Hervoicegrowssad.“It’skindofstupid,actually.”

“So,you’renotgoingtotellme?”

“Nope.”

“Well,ifyoudid,Iwouldprobablytellyouitwasn’tallthatstupid.Iwasstupidatthetime,andI

probablydidn’tevenmeanwhateveritisIdid.”

“Maybe.Didyoumeanitwhenyouflatoutdisownedourfriendshipintenthgrade?”

Crap.ThatIdoremember.“Fortherecord,I’vealwaysfeltlikeanassforthat.Butinmydefense,I

thoughtyouweregettingreadytotossajabmyway,andinsteadoftakingitlikeaman,IthoughtI’dstrike

first.”Sometimestellingthetruthhurts,andthisisoneofthosetimes.

Shegivesmyhandaslightsqueeze.“Iappreciateyourhonesty.”

Amomentbouncesby,andthetinyroomclogsupwiththesoundofourbreathing.

“I’dappreciatesomehonesty,Pops.Whathasyousoupsetwithme?”

Silence slices by, sharp as a razor. “I don’t know, maybe after the party.” Her voice is small and

fragile.“Idon’twanttotalkaboutanyofthis.”Awhiteplumeemitsfromhermouthastheroomgrows

increasinglyfrigid.

Irolloverontomysideandgazedownatherwithherhairsplayedallaroundlikeahalo.

“Okay,wewon’ttalk.”Instead,Ilandmyfingeroverherlipsandgentlyoutlineherfeatures.She’sso

achingly beautiful with the moon kissing her face, her eyes glowing like otherworldly beacons, those

perfectlyfullpinklips.IhaveneverquitemetagirllikePoppy,andI’mnotsureIeverwill.

IedgemywayinclosetoheruntilmylidsgrowheavyandIcannolongerkeepthemopen.“Forgive

me,”Iwhisperrightoverherlipsasmymouthmakesahomeoverhers.PoppyfreezesbeneathmeasI

pressoutslow,lingeringkissesbeforesheletsoutasighandherfingersgripmebythejacket,pullingme

closer.

PoppyandIstaythenight,knittogetherbyourmouths,takingcareofeachother,lovingoneanother

theonlywayweknowhow,withoutwords,withoutmentionofatarnishedpast,justonetenderkissata

time,andthenwestartalloveragain.

I’minlovewiththisgirl.

Idon’tthinkIcaneverlethergo.

Ican’t.

She’smine.

ATURDAY

COMES

likeanunwantedguestatapartythatyouneverwantedtothrowinthefirstplace.And

ironically, all of those euphemisms have somehow managed to morph into reality, on this, the day my

mother will celebrate her sixtieth birthday party with her best friend. By the time I shower and dress,

there’s a small army of people trekking in and out of the house. By evening the wait staff is a hundred

strong as the pre-party bustle is in full swing. The entire downstairs has been transformed into party

central with the grand room decked out with an oversized silver banner reading Happy Birthday

CharleneandDeb!Awreathofwhiteballoonsoutlinestheroom,andbouquetsoflongstemrosessiton

anentirearmyoftablessetoutfortheguests.

Momcomestraipsinginfromthenextroomwithherhairdoneup,herlipspaintedabrightshadeof

fuchsiathatmakeshereyesglowbright.

“Happybirthday!”Igivethebirthdaygirlherselfaquickembrace.

“It’sabouttime!”Sheswatsmeaway.“Theguestsarearriving!Gohelpyoursisterwiththebaby.I

needeverythingperfect.CharandPoppyareontheirway,”shesingsastrotsonby.

Poppy.ThosekisseswesharedlastnightwerethesolereasonIwokeupwithasmile—andawoody.

Andeventhoughthat’saneverydayoccurrence,thisonewasjustforher.

Iheadouttothefront,andJensenrunsrightintomyarms.“Whoa,buddy.”Ipickhimupandswing

himthroughtheair.“Yougotyourturboshoesontoday?”HegigglesupastormasIlandhimsafelyback

on the ground. “Get in there and give your grandmother a big fat birthday kiss.” He takes off like a

lightningrod.Mymother’sbirthdayisinaweek,andCharlene’sistheweekafterthat,buttheychosethis

finedaytogatherthemassesforthecuttingofthecakeandtheannouncementthey’vebeenteasingforthe

betterpartofthelastfewmonths.Inaway,I’mgladtogetthatoverwith.Theendlesslistsmymother

threwatme,theendlesschatterabouttheparty,theanticipationofhavinghundredsofherclosestfriends

millingaroundfortheevening—sheexhaustedmeontheevent,andithasn’tevencometofruition.But

hereweare.

Julescomesupwiththatsnidesmirkofhersshe’sbeensportingforthelastfewweeks.

“Where’stheL.A.ladywhosetonsilsyou’vebeencockboxing?”Shecranesherneckpastme.

“Wouldyoustop?”Iwince,glancingbacktomakesureJensenisnowhereinsight.“That’sdisgusting.

Anddoesitreallytickyouoffthatbadtoseemehappy?”

Hershoulderssagasshetipsherheadtowardme.Aforlornexpressiontakesoverasshesweepsthe

hair back on my forehead. “You’re my baby brother. All I want in the world is to see you happy.” She

pursesherbottomlipinawaythatletsmeknowshe’ssorryforme.“Butthisgirl?Iwastherethenight

shehurtyou.”Herfingertouchesovermycheek.“AndIneverwanttoletanyonehurtyoulikethatagain.”

Sheblowsmeaquickkissassheheadsintothehouse.

It’strue.Thatnight,allthoseyearsago,itwasJuleswhocameintomyroomandprobeduntilItold

herwhyIwaslyingonmybedwithatear-stainedface.Itwasthehardestnightofmylife.Iwaslooking

for Poppy and found her by the old oak wrapped in Miles Frampton’s arms, doing his best to suck her

mouthrightoffherface.Itstillgutsmetothinkaboutit.Ithoughtshecouldn’twantanythingwithme.It

hadbeentoolong,andshefinallygotwhatshewanted.Mileswasadouchebagwhoeventuallywenton

to impregnate the first girl he banged freshman year at university. Things didn’t exactly work out for

PoppyandMiles,andasmuchasitmakesmelooklikeanasshole,Idoadmititbringsasatisfiedsmileto

myface.

Kalicomesupwithafewgirlfriendsintowandafewguyshangingaroundtheperiphery.IspotCole

right away and give him the stink eye. Nobody but nobody gets into my sister’s pants and lives to tell

aboutit.Ineedtodomybesttocommunicatethatfacttohimlesthemakeamovethatbothheandmy

upcomingfelonyrecordwilllivetoregret.

Mackandherfamilyspillinwithacrowdfullofguests,andmyheartstartstorace.IknowPoppyis

alreadyonherway,andanymomentnowIexpecttoseeherbeautifulface,ourlastmomentsasacouple,

asanythingasfarasshe’sconcerned.

“Jaxy boy!” Mack dives over me with a hug. “You ready to rock this thing?” Her eyes grow twice

theirsize.Mackhasalwayshadatouchofcrazyabouther,andImeanthatinthenicestway.Ofcourse,

onecanarguethatPoppyhasthatverysamething,butI’vecometoadoreallofherquirks,allofherlittle

jaggededgesthatmakeheruniquelywhosheis.

“AsreadyasI’lleverbe.”No.I’mnotready.I’mnotsureIcanletPoppygoforgood.

“Great.Assoonastheycutthecake,youandPopswillputastoptothefestivitiesandlettheminon

thetwistofalifetime.”Sheshakesherheadwistfullywhilelookingatthehousefestoonedinablanketof

white twinkle lights. “Do you realize that those two hired a Marilyn Monroe impersonator for my

wedding reception? And as if that wasn’t bad enough, it turned out to be a stripper in drag. We had a

dancingshlonginheels!”Hereyessqueezeshutamoment.“I’mtellingyou,Jaxson.You’renotjustdoing

this for yourselves—you’re doing this for all of humanity.” She shakes her head as she passes me by.

“And,ohthehumanity!”

“Nice,”ImuttertomyselfasConnerandLarissacomeupnext.

“You’reoninfive.”Heshootsmewithhisfinger.“Yousureyou’reupforyourfinalperformance?”I

groanoveratthehousewithitsopenmouthandcheerylitwindowsforeyes.

“I’mnotsureI’lleverbeupforwhat’sgoingtohappentonight.”

“Oh,comeon.”Larissarollshereyes.Herhairispiledontopofherhead,andshe’sasstunningas

usual. I understand the appeal, but what she holds on the inside is nothing near what Poppy possesses.

Nope.LarissaandIareneverhappeningagain.OncePoppyleaves,shemightaswelltakemyheart,my

dick,andmyballsrightalongwithher.Iwon’tbeneedinganyofthem.“It’sjustalittlebreakingup.”She

givesmycheekaquickpinch.“I’llletyoudoalittlemakinguptonight,ifitmakesyoufeelbetter.”She

givesafingerrollofawaveasshescuttlesoninside.

“Andthereyougo.”Connerdoesn’thidethefacthe’sticked.

“I’msorry,man.”

“No,it’sokay.Iknewitwasn’tgoinganywhere.”

ConnerandIarelikebrothers,andIwouldneverwanttoseehimwithasnakelikethat.

“You’llfindsomeonegood,dude.You’reagoodguy.Youdeservesomeonewhoappreciatesyoufor

whoyouare.”

Hegroansatthethought.“I’mgoodwithhangingoutonmyownforawhile.ButIwantthosethings

foryou,too.MaybewhenmysisterheadsbacktoL.A.,youandIwillheadoutontheprowlagain.This

timewe’llfindtherightgirls.Iknowwewill.”Hegivesmyarmalightsockasheheadsonin.

Amobofpeopledriftspastme,amblingintothehouseasifexemplifyingthefactthere’sanopenbar

tonight.

Ipeeroutatthecrowd,atthevaletparking,theendlessparadeofwomenclackingbyinheels,and

then I see her—a vision in white. The most beautiful girl on the planet heading this way with her arm

threadedthroughhermother’s.PoppyMontgomeryoutshinesanentiregalaxyofstars.

Shegivesaslysmile,andhereyeslightuplikeembers.

She’sperfect,andeverylastcellinmybodydemandstomakehermine.

But that’s not what tonight is about. That may never be what we’re about. Right now, she’s my

girlfriend,myshininglight,myeverything.

Inotherwords—it’sshowtime.

PLAYFULMISCONDUCT

POPPY

here he is, Jaxson Stade, in his dark sexy suit, with his dark hair, that sexy smile, and those hard

Italianleathershoesthatmakemewanttogetonmykneesandkissthem,andthenkisshisknees,andthen

workhispantsopenandkissfarsexier,hairier,harderthings.Disgusting.Iknow.Butthat’sjusthowmy

brainoperatesaroundthegodofStadeSteel.NomatterhowangryoraffrontedbyhimImaybe—andI

ambothmindyou,Ican’tseemtoshutoffthehormoneshowthatcontinuestoragewithinme.It’sashitty

deal,inashittysituation,andoneI’llhavetoshelfbecausehe’scomingatmewiththatwickedgrinasif

nothinghadgonehaywirebetweenthetwoofusever.He’sadamngoodactor.I’llgivehimthat.

“Youlookdelicious.”Hisbrowstweakwhenhesaysitashepullsmeintoadeep,stronghug.His

fingerspresstightovermybackasifspeakingtomeintheirownlanguage.“And,Charlene—youbeam

onthis,thealmost-dayofyourbirth.Happybirthday.”Heoffersherahugaswell.

Idoubthe’sinflictingthekeyboardhuguponher,tryingtogiveheracodetodecipher.Ifit’snotone

mind game between the two of us, it’s another. I wouldn’t have pegged that weird silent period we

enduredforsolongasamindgame,perse,butallofthischemistryweseemtohave—albeitImightbe

wrong and this could be entirely one-sided—but I’m officially categorizing everything that’s ever gone

downbetweenusasoneseriousmindfuck.

Mom pulls us both in, connecting us at the elbows as if expecting us to click into place like Lego

pieces.“Wouldyoulookatthat?Jax,withyouinthathandsomesuitand,Poppy,inthatwhitedress?You

looklikeyou’rereadytowalkdowntheaislerightthisminute!”Sheclaspsherhandsoverhermouth,and

tearsspontaneouslybloominhereyes.“I’llneedadrinktosettleme.”

Waitahottoddyminute.MomistheonewhosuggestedIwearwhitethisevening.Thethoughtoccurs

tomethatJaxandImightbewalkingintowhatamountstoanambushwedding.Itwouldn’tatallsurprise

metobebestedbythebestprankstersjustthissideoftheMississippi.

“I’dbettergominglewithmyguests.”ShenodstowardJaxasifhewereroyaltybeforeditchingus

forfarmoregeriatricpastures.

“Delicious?”Ihuffassoonasshe’soutofearshot.“Really,Jax?Hadlunchyet?”

Adevilishgrintakesoverhisfar-too-comely-to-ever-be-safe-for-my-vaginaface,andIwanttocry.

ButIdon’t.IntypicalPoppyMontgomeryfashion,Igetevenangriertothepointsteamisliterallyseething

frommynostrils.Mostlikelyit’sduetothefactwe’restilldealingwithsubarctictemperatures,butI’llgo

withitbecauseittotallyfitsthescenario.

“Yes,delicious.”Hegivesmetheonce-overwiththosebluetopazeyes.Asanaside,Ireallydon’t

thinkit’sfairthathe’sbeengiftedthatface,andthoseeyes,andthatbody.Heshouldbeflaggedbythe

militaryasaweaponofatomicvaginalwarfare,nottomentionthefactyoucanpracticallyhearovaries

exploding like popcorn as we pass the girls in the crowd. “You look beautiful, Eight Ball.” His arms

swivelaroundmywaistaswemakeourwayin.

It’ssafetosaythattheStaderesidencehasofficiallybeentransformedintoachalet.It’sprobablya

godsend that Jax isn’t really interested in me because what on earth’s sake would I do with all those

billions? I mean, they would be mine by proxy, and I’ve been known to squander a dollar or two or

twentythousand.Andbecausethewordnojustisn’tinmyvocabulary,ourchildrenwouldundoubtedly

growuptobeselfishbrats.Youknowtheoneswiththesocialmediaaccountsthatdocumenttheirlavish

lifestyle.They’dlunchinMilan,havedinnerinSpain.They’dorderridiculousthingsatexoticrestaurants

like water culled from some underground arctic cave, eat pasta from gold covered cheese wheels, and

paymoreforthosetwoindulgencesthanthepricetagofmyentirecollegetuition.

IglancetoJaxandbitedownhardontheinsideofmycheektokeepfromlosingit.Jaxisn’tlikethat

at all. I seriously doubt his children would grow up to be assholes, despite the fact they could totally

guzzlearcticwellwaterwheneverthemoodshouldstrike.

He leans in, and his lips tease my earlobe. “We should really hit a crescendo with this. Don’t you

think?”

“Oh, right.” I glance up ahead where Mom and Deb eyeball us while speaking to a legion of their

friends. God, I can’t believe we’re going to take them down so brutally. Never mind fearing the fact I

mightonedayraiseassholes.Iamone.

A string quartet plays softly to the side, and I wrap my arms around Jax and begin swaying to the

music.

“Dance?”Heoffersacharitablesmileandholdsmyrighthandout,dippingmeslightly,thusevokinga

light applause from the senior sector. “Good call,” he whispers through the side of his mouth like a

ventriloquist.

“I’d like to think I usually make them.” Not to be egotistical, but seeing that I don’t have an arrest

recordsortofbacksmeuponthis.

“Whataboutwithme?”Jaxsoftensashisgazepressesintomine.“AmIagoodcall?”

Iopenmymouthtosaysomething,andMackcomesoverlookingimpressedashellbyourtwo-step

actofdevotion.

“Boy”—sherattlesherhandinourfacesasiftoinsinuatethesearesomehotandheavymaneuvers

we’redolingout—“thetwoofyoureallyknowhowtopreachit.You’repracticallyshoutingwatch and

learntoalltheoldfogiesrunningaroundwithastiffdrinkintheirhands.”

“Wedoaimtoplease.”IlandmyheadoverJaxson’schestasweslowtoacrawl.

“Don’t let me stop you.” She flicks a finger our way, beckoning us on. “Remember—the real show

startsassoonastheycutthecake.”Shesquintsoveratthebirthdaygirlsandmakesaface.“Icannotwait

topulltherugoutfromunderthosegals!”Shetakesofftowardtheopenbar,andI’mstartingtowonderif

we should do the same. On second thought, it’s most likely a bad idea to add liquor to this toxic anger

that’s fueling me. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m so incensed. Jax is basically keeping his end of the

bargain.Ijustsohappenedtobestupidenoughtosleepwithhiminthemeantime.

“You’retooquiet.”Hesmackshislipsasifthiswereanationaloffense.

“I’mcontemplating.”

“Don’tcontemplate.It’sascarylookonyou.”

“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”

Jaxgrimacesashepullsmeinclose.He’swearinghiscolognealittlethickertonight,andforsome

reason, this pisses me off even more. Everyone knows a sexy man bathed in spiced cologne is a lethal

combination.

“Itmeans,you’regoingtocauseasceneifyoudon’tlaughorkissmesoonenough.”

“Ha!”Ibarkrightinhisfacebeforelandingawetoneoverhislips.

Heholdsmetherebythebackoftheneck,andI’mdone.Allofthevitriolicangerupandevaporates

likesmokeaswemeltintoaslow,dreamykiss.Jaxhasamouththatwasmadefordoingjustthis—and

perhapsalittlebitofthat,whichalsoironicallyqualifiesaskissingmylips.

Herakeshismouthovermycheek.“Weshouldgoupstairs.”

Myadrenalinespikesattheoffer,andIparrotrightback,“Weshouldgoupstairs.”

Jaxtakesmebythehand,onearmstillwrappedaroundmywaist,anditlooksasifwe’reengagedin

someElizabethanerawaltzasheglidesusacrossthefloor.

“Whoa!” a stunned voice cries as we hit the base of the stairwell, and we turn to find Conner and

Larissatuckedinthecorner,huddledovertheirdrinks.“Whereareyoutwooffto?”Mybrotherglowers

atJaxforamomentasifheknowsexactlywhere.

Jaxpumpsthosedimplesofhisjustonce.“Ileftmymother’sgiftupstairs,butwecangetitlater.”He

givesmyhandadeterminedsqueeze.Ilaughattheironythatthewordgiftiscodeforsex,becausefaceit

—thetwoofusknockingbootswouldtotallybethegiftshewouldwantandmostlikelyaskfor.Same

goesformyfreakymother.

“Goodcall.”Connertiltshishead,sizingupourbodylanguage.“RissandIwerejustabouttohitthe

buffet. Why don’t you two do the same?” It comes out more of a command than a request, and we

begrudginglycomply.

Thegrandbuffetismoreorlessamishmashofourmothers’favoritefoodsandjustasscrumptiousas

youmightthinkfortwowomenwhospendtheirlivesrunningablogthatcentersondelectablemorsels.

Ileantowardthepescatarianfareoflobstertails,shrimp,andbutteryseabasssteamedtoperfection,

whileJaxgoesformoreofthesurfandturfappeal,landingaglibberymassofprimeriboverhisplate

alongwithenoughkingcrablegstopiecebacktogetheroneofthoseoversizedcrustaceouscreatures.

JaxandIfindatablenearthefrontwhereourmothersnoshontheirownplates,doingtheirbestto

mingleattheverysametime.Wedevourourfoodlikeprisonersembarkingontheirfinalmeal,but,really,

whocouldblameus?Debhasbeenknowntothrowadamnimpressiveparty,andit’seasytoseewhat

luredtheentiretownoutofhiding.Whenthelonebillionairewidowthrowsa“little”get-together,you’re

goingtowanttobethere.

Aboutthreebitesintomylobster,somethingoccurstome.

“I just had a thought.” I plunk down my fork, and it hits the delicate china so hard I half-expect to

shattertheplate.Really,Debdoesthrowaclassyshindig.Thefactwehaveactualchinaisanotherreason

partieslikethisshouldalwaysbehostedbybillionaires.HadMackandIhostedthisevent,itwouldhave

beenabanquetonabudget.Wewouldhaveallfrozentodeathinmymother’sbackyardwhilefeastingoff

friedchickenservedonpaperplates.

“Shoot.”Jaxshovelsinanotherforkfulofbovine.

“We’rebasicallyeatingthemaincourse.Andwhathappensafterthemaincourse?”

Theflashofadirtygrinflickersonhisface.

“Doesyourmindeverleavethegutter?”Amomentbouncesbyasheattemptstoswallow.“I’mpretty

sureit’sarhetoricalquestionatthispoint.”

Heshakeshishead.“IpromiseI’mnotasbadasyouthinkIam.”

“That’sbecauseyou’reworse.Youwereabouttohaulmeupstairsforonemorenaughtyromp,andon

this—thenightofourbigbreakup.”I’monlyhalf-teasingbecausenomatterhowcausticthewords,my

heart is still bleeding out on the inside. Jax is the one for me, and I’m not very good at conveying that

message.

A deep laugh thunders from his chest, and it sounds like a dare. “You were ready and willing to

rumble.”Hiseyesmeetwithmine.“Faceit—EightBallwantedGordotogiveittoher.”

“Andarethoseourpornnamesnow?”

“Onlybecauseyourpervertedselfhasreferencedthemthatway.”

Adullhuffpumpsfromme.“Maybeit’sbecauseyouinsinuatedit.”

Jaxson presses his gaze hard into mine. “You still up for another tour of my model airplane

collection?”

“I’vealwaysbeenafanofminiaturizedaviation.Andthefactyouhaveanentirefleetreallygetsme

hotandbothered.”Ittakeseverythinginmetoholddownthemaniacalgigglereadytoburstfromme.“But

seriously,ifyouneedtoretrieveagiftforyourmother,I’dbettersuperviseintheeventyouwrapyourself

likeamummyandburnthehousedown.”

“Good.”Hisdimplestwitch.“I’llhaveyouonyourkneesandshowyouexactlyhowpervertedIcan

be.”

Jaxplucksmeupbythehand,andwe’reofftotheraces.

“There you are!” Deb stops us short as she blocks the pathway to what was panning out to be a

potentiallypromisingperversion.“We’rejustabouttomakeourannouncement,butfirstwethoughtwe’d

shareafewwordsandcutthecake.”

JaxandIexchangeaquickglance.

Crap. I forgot all about that announcement they’ve been lording over our heads like a sickle. They

shouldtotallymakethespeechfirst,thencutthecake.JaxandIshouldsaveourJanuarysurpriseforthe

bitter end—as in, once all of the major hitters collect their Louis Vuitton goody bags and leave for the

night. Side note, I’m only teasing about the Louis Vuitton goody bags. But seriously? If Debbie were

interested, they would be available to all six hundred guests. Speaking of this mega party—I’m betting

Mackhadnoideathattheturnoutwouldbesomagnificent.Ifso,Idoubtwe’deverattempttopullone

overonthemataneventthishuge.

Jaxpullsmeinuntilhisnoseispressedagainstmycheek.“They’recuttingthecake.”Hisbreathsears

myfleshasafull-blownpanicpulsesthroughme.Oureyeslock,andasharedsenseofdreadrisesasI

shakemyheadeversoslightly.

“It’s going to be fine, Eight Ball.” He leans in and presses a kiss to my ear. “They have it coming,

remember?”

“Right,”Iwhisperasmylipsfindhisandstaythereamomenttoolong,drinkingthismandownlike

anexoticelixir—oneIhavecravedallofmylife,andtothisdaycannevergetenoughof.“Theyhaveit

coming.”

MyfatherclearshisthroatandgathersthemassesaroundMomandDebwhostanddutifullynexttoa

three-tieredwhitecakeadornedwithdozensofpastelroses.

Momwavesmeover,andJaxandIcomplyalittleslowerthannecessary.

“Lookatthelovebirds!”Mombeamsasshepicksupmyhand.

Nottobeoutdone,Debpicksupbothmymother’shandandJaxson’sasthefourofusformacircle.

Mom coos at Jax and me. “As wonderful as this evening is, seeing the two of you together is a

thousandtimesgreater.”

Deboffersacircularnod,tearsalreadyglitteringinhereyes.“Justknowingthatgenuinefeelingshave

blossomedbetweenyoumakesmyheartsing.”

“Strongfeelings?”Jaxmusesashegivesaslywinkmyway.“PoppyandIareinlove.”Hewrapshis

armsaroundme.

Jaxson’seyespresstomineashesayseachword,andthefoolinmedemandstobelievethey’retrue.

“OhGod!”MomcriesasbothsheandDebengageinaseriesofsighsandchokingsounds.

“We’reverymuchinlove.”Igivehishandasqueeze,butmygazeneverleaveshis.Iwrapmyarms

aroundJaxson.Hisbodytensesforamomentbeforerelaxingagainstme.IswallowhardbecauseIcan

feel it coming. “I have loved you, Jaxson Stade, for as far back as I can remember. You were my first

friend,myfirstkiss,myfirstloveandheartbreak.”HewincesintomeasIsayit,andhischestdepresses

asifheknewitweretrue.“ButwhenIcamebackandwereconnected?”Inodintohim,lettinghimknow

thisisfromtheheart,andhisfeaturessoftenjustthissideofcrumbling.“Itwasmagic.Beingnearyou—

in your arms—made me realize I never want the two of us to be apart again. Your eyes, your gorgeous

face, they can’t rival that heart of gold you have.” Mom and Deb break out into audible sobs, but Jax

continues to hold my gaze, the loving curve of a smile caressing his face. “When I saw you with your

nephew,Jensen—IknewyouwerethemanIwouldwantasthefatherofmyfuturechildren.Youarethe

manIwantfortherestofmylife,Jaxson.Youweremypast,youaremypresent,andIhopeyouwillbe

myfuture.Ican’timagineleavingyouagain,Jax.Ican’timaginealifewithoutyou.”

“Ican’ttakeit!”MomcriesassheandDebsilentlysobintooneanother,eachofthemdabbingtissues

intotheireyes.

Jaxsonpullsmeinclose,hisgazestilltrainedonmine.

“PoppyMontgomery”—hisAdam’sapplerisesandfalls—“youweremybestfriendfromthemoment

youarrivedinthisworld,andIforoneamgladthatsomethingsneverchange.”Asweepoflightlaughter

circlesthecrowd.“YouwerethereasonIgotupinthemorning.Eachandeveryday,Ilookedforwardto

seeingyou—tobeingwithyou,andthat,too,hasnotchangedonebit.”Hiseyessoftenashetakesadeep

breath.“WhenIwasoldenoughtorealizethatIwantedyouinmylifeassomethingmorethanafriend,

things went a little south for us.” He glances down a moment. “And when you moved away for good, I

thoughtthatmightbetheendofwhatwehadforever.Buthereyouare,inmyarms,theloveofmylife

right where you need to be, where I want you most, and where I hope you’ll always stay. I’m not sure

thereareenoughwordsintheEnglishlanguagetoconveyhowdeeply,howwholeandhappyyoumake

mefeel.Iwasdead,andnowI’malive.YoubroughttheoxygenthatIneedtosurvive.Ican’tseemtodo

itwithoutyou.Withoutyou,lifeisadarkandlonelyplacetobe.Iloveyouwithallmyheart,myevery

breath,mysoul,Pops.Youaremyeverything.Youalwayswillbe.”

Everyfiberofourbeinggetslockedinthatstare.I’msoinlovewiththismanitphysicallyhurtsto

takemynextbreath.

Jaxleansinandsealshissentimentwithakiss,andaswellofrelieffillsmeaswideasafootball

field.Andhereitis,ourfinalkiss.Ipullback—determinednottoshowoneounceofemotion,whenallI

wanttodoisbawlbecauseIwillnevertastethosepillowsoftlipsagain.JaxsonStadeisperfection,and

hiskissistheanswertotheachethat’shauntedmyheartforsolong.

Aroundofapplausebreaksout,andthetwoofuspullapart,onlytofindanentireseaoffacesstaring

backatus.Sadieoffersmeawinkandthumbs-upwithtearsinhereyes.Hunterisbesideher.Connerand

asour-facedLarissastandwitharmsfoldedaggressivelyovertheirchestsasiftheywereoursour-faced

chaperonesfortheevening.Mackandherfamily,JulesandJensen,Kali—evenmyfatherstandswitness

with his own eyes glittering with emotion. All of my mother’s friends hold their hands pressed to their

chests,thelookoftendernesswrittenontheirfaces.They’reallmesmerizedasifwe’vejustexchanged

vows,andforthemostpart,weexchangedsomethingequallyassacred.

Momstepsforwardandwavesthecrowdtoaquiethush.“MygoodfriendDebraStadeandIwould

love to thank all of you for coming out tonight.” Another round of applause breaks out. “A lot has

happened in our storied lives, but what we’ve witnessed tonight was an event twenty-six years in the

making.JaxsonandPoppy,youhavebroughtsomuchjoytousthroughtheyears,butneverquitetheway

youhavetonight.Gettingtowatchasyourloveforoneanotherblossomedoverthelastfewweekshas

beenoneofthegreatestjoysofourlives.”Hervoicebreaks,andDebpatsheronthebackwhileclearing

herthroat.

“IthinkIspeakforCharlenewhenIsaywewouldliketorededicatethiseveningasacelebrationof

ourchildren’snewfoundaffectionsforoneanother.JaxandPoppy,mayyoulivelongandhappylivesin

oneanother’sarms.Mayyouhavemanybeautifulchildrenwhenthetimeisright,andmayyouhaveabig

andbeautifulweddingsoonwhilewebothstillhavethesighttowitnesstheevent!”Alightlaughcircles

the room. “We dedicate this night to the celebration of your beautiful love. Now, let us eat cake!” The

roombreaksoutintowildcheers.

Jaxson tightens his grip around me. “Pops”—he touches his forehead to mine a moment—“there’s

somethingIwanttotell—”

My brother gives an obnoxious whistle and deafens the room to silence. “What about this big

announcement you’ve been teasing?” Conner gives a jovial shout from the crowd. Personally, I’m

shockedhedidn’tstepforwardandripJaxanewoneafterheprofessedhisundyingaffectionforme.

My heart thuds because there was something Jax wanted to tell me, and now I’ll forever be left in

suspense.

MomandDebcalmthecrowdonceagainwithMomclappingherhandsasifcallingcourttoorder.

“Asmostofyouknow,DeborahandIhavebeenlifelongfriends.Wewenttoschooltogether,wemarried

atthesametime,wehadourchildrenatthesametime.Wehavealwayshadimpeccabletiminganddone

justabouteverythingtogether.”Theroomfillswithafriendlychortle.“Wehavehadourfairshareofups

and downs, but over the years we’ve strengthened our bonds by making others miserable.” The crowd

chortles once again right along with them. “All in good fun, of course! But as most of you know, our

tomfooleryledtotheadventofourblogwherewe’reabletoshowcaseourtalents,amongthebestand

tastiestofwhichisourgreatloveofbaking.”Theycooatoneanotherwithpride.

“And”—Debtakesoverwithanodfrommymother—“aboutamonthago,wewerecontactedbythe

kindpeopleoveratGoodMorningDenvertosteponboardasculinaryhosts!”

Thecrowdtakesinacollectivegasp.

Debtapsherhandsonceagain.“Youarelookingatthenewbakingconsultantsfortheshow!Infact,

smile! You’re all on camera! This entire event is being documented as a part of the bio pictorial the

networkisputtingtogetherinanefforttointroduceustothepublic.And”—sheholdsupafinger,stifling

thelooseapplausealreadybreakingoutinpockets—“thebestpartisthatwehaveapermanentmemento

of our children’s love for one another, and it will be broadcast for all of Denver to see! Cake for

everyone!”sheshouts,andtheroombreaksoutintoariotofcheers.

Holyshit.

The vast wait staff Deb has hired for the event gets right to the task of doling out slices of the

deliciouslookingconfection,anditfeelsasifthisentirenighthasbeenlostinawhirlwind.

“They’vedocumentedourdementeddeed,”IwhispertoJax.Thisentirenot-sofunnyjokehasclearly

gonetohellinahandbasket.

“Iheard.”Jaxexpiresaslowbreath.“It’llallworkout.Ipromise,Pops.”Hegivesalittlewink,but

thatdisconcertinglookonhisfacesaysjustaboutanythingelse.

Mackrunsupandlandsherarmsaroundus.“Youtwowerebrilliant!God!”She’spracticallyreeling.

“Whoknewyoucouldactsowell?Iswear,whenthisissaidanddone,youshouldbothgetafilmagent.

Hollywoodain’tseentwoliarslikeyou.”Sheguffawssoloudmylefteardrumbegstoimplode.“Okay,

so now that the masses are busy stuffing their faces with frosting, I think the time is right to lower the

boom,”shewhispers,butherlaughterstilltittersrightthrough.

IglancetoJax.“Wecandoitinthemorning.Whyruinthenight?”

“Are you kidding?” Mack shuttles us over in their direction. “Did they wait until prom was over

beforeshowinguplikeacoupleofprostitutesthathaveseentheirpimp-lovin’heyday?Whataboutthe

timetheyspontaneouslytookoverthemorningannouncementsyourfirstdayoffreshmanyearandtoldall

theotherkidsthetwoofyoujustgotoverabadboutofmono—thekissingdisease?”

Isuckinasharpbreath.“Momtoldmetoputointmentonmy‘rash’betweenclasses.Iforgotallabout

thathorrificnightmare!”It’sreallynotawonderwhyittookyearstoscoremyfirstdate.

Jaxgivesaseriousnod.“Andthetimetheyshowedupatsummercampandspenttheafternoonwith

usinthepool?”HelooksjustaslividasIsuddenlyfeel.“Instringbikinis?”

“Paybackisabitch,andhernameisKarma.”Mackgivesusalittlepushintheirdirection,andthe

twoofusfalter.“What’sthis?”Shebalksatourinabilitytomove.“Don’ttellmeyou’vechangedyour

minds.Noneofthattouchy-feelycrapwasreal,right?”

JaxandIlockeyesonceagain.Forthefirsttimeinweeks,itfeelsasifthatimpenetrabledistancewe

sharedforsolongiscreepingrightback.Jaxcloseshiseyesanddipshischintothefloor.OhGod.He

realizesImeanteverythingIsaid,andhefeelssorryforme.

“None of it was real.” My throat burns as I push the words out past that painful lump still forming.

There.Jaxdoesn’thavetoworryaboutmegettingmyheartbroken.Atleastnotinfrontofhim.

“Then get to it.” Mack marches us right to ground zero as Mom and Deb hop over with ear-to-ear

grinsplasteredtotheirjubilantfaces.

“Here’sthehappycouplenow!”Momengagesinanawkwardandslightlydangerouslookingversion

ofthehappydance.

“Whatanight!”Debhowlstotheforty-footceiling.“Isaywegetsomeseriousmusicinhere,andwe

getalittlegroovy.”Sheshakeswhathermamagaveher,andJaxturnshisheadandmoansasifhe’sgoing

tobesick.

“Inamoment”—Mackscootsusinjustatouchclosertowardkillingourmothers’dreams—“thekids

herehavealittleconfessiontomake.”

Ishootmysisteradirtylook.Waytointroducetheirheartbreak—andmine.

“Yes.”ItakeinabreaththatIwishwouldneverendbecauseIhatewhatcomesnext.

Jaxpicksupmyhandandgivesitasqueezebeforeplacingitcarefullybackbymyside.“Thiswasall

ajoke.”

MomandDebcontinuetoogleusasifwewerethesecondcomingofElvis—aresurrectiontheyonce

sworewasuponus.Ihadneverbeensoafraidofablue-eyeddeadman.Somepeoplewereafraidofthe

boogieman.Iwasterrifiedofazombifiedsingerfromagespastmakingabeyondthegravereprisalunder

mybed.

“What’sajoke,dear?”Debwrapsanarmaroundmymother’sshoulder.“Isitthecake?Ithoughtit

wasatouchdrymyself.That’swhatyougetwhenyouhiresomeoneelsetodowhatyoucouldhavedone

yourself.”Shetossesahandintheair.

“Notthecake,”IsayboldlyandmorethanalittlepissedatJax’seagernesstogetthesickshowonthe

road.“Us.Weare.JaxandIareafake.We’renotinlove,andweneverwere.”Lies,allofitlies,Iwant

toscream,butatthispointthere’snotellingwhatI’mreferringtoanymore.Andforthatmatter,Iguessit’s

onlyalieonmypart.

Mom’sfeaturesarethefirsttocrumble.Debtakesinaquickbreathbeforelookingtoherson.“What’s

this?”

Jaxgroansasifhe’sabouttoburst.Hiseyescuttomine,andgoneisanytraceofjoyorhappiness

fromhisface.Hetakesasolidbreath.“PoppyandIthoughtitwouldbehystericaltomakeyouthinkthat

wehadfinallysuccumbedtothosefeelingsyoubothtriedyourhardesttopushonus.Itwasn’treal.Those

feelingsdon’texist.”

Myheartslamstothefloorwithoutanyhopeofevercrawlingbackwhereitneedstobe.Idon’twant

it.It’sfartoodamagedtoeverworkagain.

“Poppy?”Momstaggersforwardasifshe’sabouttofallover.“Isthistrue?”

“It’strue.Thejoke’sonyou.”Iblinkbacktears.“Thiswasjustsomeelaborateschemetomakeyou

believethattheverythingyouwantedforuswasfinallycomingtrue.”Howcruel.Howstunninglycallous

ofustoeverstoopsolow.

“Butyouwerenaked.”Mom’stonegrowsincredulous.“Isawyoubendingovertokisshis—”

“What’s this?” Dad comes up, and Mack sweeps him to the side to fill him in on the fun. “Oh, for

shit’ssake!”hetossesuphisarmsandheadsforthebar.

“Waitaminute,”Debsnapsasshewagsherfingerbetweenus.“Areyoutwotellingusallofthose

sentiments you’ve shared, the affections you’ve displayed over the last few weeks were some long-

drawn-outhoaxjusttogetariseoutofthetwoofus?”Herjawgoesslack.“Whathaveweeverdoneto

youtodeservethis?”

Momstraightensasthetwoofthemsharealookofhorrorrecountingallthoseoh-so-innocentboutsof

insanitythey’veengagedinovertheyears.

“Nevermind.”Debglowersatthetwoofus.“Ihopeyouarebothproudofyourselves.”ShejabsJax

andmehardinthechestwithherfinger.“Iwillspendtherestofmyliferelivingthesepastfewweeksas

someofthebestmemoriesIhaveeverhad.Waytobreakyourmother’sheart,JaxsonLivingstonStade!”

As a kid, I would giggle incessantly whenever Deb invoked Jaxson’s middle name, but now it just

seemssadanddisconcerting.

Momleansinwithalookofsheermalice.“Andthatgoesdoubleforme,younglady.Idareyouto

look this tall, dark, and handsome young man in the eyes and tell him that those precious words you

exchangedmeantnothingtoyou.”

IglancetoJaxwithaheavyheart.“Ididn’tmeanawordofwhatIsaid,”Iwhisperlikeachildabout

tobreakdownintearsafterbeingscolded.

“NeitherdidI,”hesaysitsolowitsoundedlikeaseriesofclicks.

Thereyouhaveit.Hedidn’tmeananyofit.Myheartmightbebroken,butmybloodisbeginningto

boil.

“I’mglad,”Iflatline.“BecauseIthinkyou’reanegotistical,self-absorbedwomanizerthatcannever

betamed.”Icouldn’thelpit.GettingthelastwordinhasalwaysbeenmyAchilles’heel.

Hislipspurseashewincesatmeamoment.“AndIthinkyou’reacold-heartedbratwhoholdsonto

grudgesbecausetheymakeyoufeellikeyou’reincontrol.”

IstepintothemanIjustprofessedmylovetowithanewfoundannoyance.“Andwhatexactlywould

thisgrudgeberegarding?”

Atinysmirktugsathislipsashiseyesgrowheavywithsuddendisdain.“Thefactyoudidn’thave

me.”

Awildcryoffrustrationthat’sbeenbottledupforthelastfivesolidyearsescapesme.

Mackpokesherheadbetweenthetwoofusandsmilesoveratourmothers.“It’snicetoseethings

havegottenrightbacktothewaytheyusedtobe.Gotcha!Andthat,myfriends,isawrap!”

“It’sawrapallright.”Itakeoffforthedoor,threadingmywaythroughthecrowd.IspotSadieinthe

foyerandpullherrightoutthedoorwithme.

“Whereareyouofftoinsucharush?”sheshoutsasIdragherintothenight.

“TheDenverairport.I’mheadedbacktoL.A.”

Goodbye,OakGrove.

Youwillneverseemeagain.

JAXSON

ndthat,myfriend,ishowPoppyMontgomeryskeweredmyballsandleftmetodiewhiletakingoff

toL.A.inthenightwithmyheartstillstucktothehealofherstiletto.

Istillloveher.I’vefinallycometorealizethattheachingfeelingclawingatmychestalltheseyears

issimplymyneedtohaveher.It’strue.ImeantwhatIsaid.PoppyistheairIneedtobreathe,andwithout

hernearmeIsimplycan’tsurvive.

Assoonasshetookoffrunning,Itriedtofollowherout,justtobetackledbyMackenzielettingme

knowitwasallapartoftheact.Afteranhourandnotonereturnedcallortext,IwenttotheMontgomery

home,onlytofindherthingsclearedout.Sadietookhertotheairport.PoppywasbackinLosAngeles

beforeIeverwenttobedthatnight.NotthatI’vesleptsinceshe’sbeengone.Asolidweekhasgoneby

without her cheery smile to brighten my day. I’ve tried to make contact with her, but somehow we’ve

managedtosettheresetbutton,andthecoldwarseemstobeonagain.

I’veallbutsetupcampatStarryNights.Myseatattheendofthebarhasbecomemynewhome.I

haven’tsaidmuchtoMother.Can’tseemtofaceher.Julesisgladit’soverbetweenPoppyandme.Kali

couldn’tcarelesseitherway.

Hunterbringsoveranotherbeerandtakesawaymyemptyglass.“Youlooklikeshit,dude.”

“Good.Ifeellikeshit.It’sabouttimeIshedalittlehonesty.”

Afloralperfumebreezesby,andIglanceovertofindLarissaflailingintotheseatnexttome.“Been

missingyouattheoffice.”ShenodstoHunterandordersabeer.“Yourememberthatplace,don’tyou?

Builtbythesteelcompanyyou’reinchargeof?”

“Imightrememberit,butatthemomentI’mnotinterested.”

Conner comes in grinning, and as soon as he spots me, his enthusiasm wanes. It’s safe to say I’ve

becomeOakGrove’sbiggestbuzzkill.WordonthestreetisthatPoppyandIhadablowoutattheparty.I

heardonerumorsuggestthatshetookoffbecausethesizeofthediamondIgaveherwasinsulting.Iknow

firsthandPoppyisn’tthekindofgirlwhowouldcareaboutthat.Poppyiswonderfulandnotatallacold-

heartedbratwhoholdsontogrudgesbecausetheymakeherfeellikeshe’sincontrol.Ididn’tmeanit.I

wassimplyplayingoffthewordsshethrewmyway.Andthatquipaboutherwishingshehadme?More

likemewishingIhadher.Itallwenttohellsoquickly.Therewasnosafewaytogetoffthatdemontrain.

“What’sgoingon,man?”Connerfallsintotheseatontheothersideofme.

“Nothingmuch.YouheardfromPops?”

Hisfacecontortsinatightgrimace.“Yeah,man,Idid.She’saboutreadytostarthernewjob.Some

swankydesignfirmshe’sbeenwaitingtogetonboardwith.She’sdoingwell.She’sgotalotonherplate

rightnow,that’sall.”

Connerknowsshehasn’tbeenreturningmycalls.He’sjusttryingtobeagoodfriendbysugarcoating

thebittertruth.

LarissagruntsasHunterslidesherdrinkover.“WhocaresaboutPoppyMontgomery?”Shesnarlsat

Conner.“Nooffense.But—really,shehasalife,andit’snotinOakGrove.Imean,whatareyougoingto

do?FlyouttoL.A.totrytowinherback?Itwasallabigfakelieanyway.Soshegotherfeelingshurt

overafewlittlejabs.She’llgetoverit.Andtrustme”—herhandslipstotheinsideofmythigh,andI

stopherbeforeshehitspaydirt—“thereareplentyofwomenouttherewhoarewillingtohelpyouput

thatentirenightmarebehindyou.”

“Itwasn’tanightmare.”IstarenumblyrightthroughHunter.“Anditwasn’tfake.”

Connerknockshisshouldertomineasiftryingtopullmefromatrance.“Whatdidyoujustsay?”

“It’strue.”Iblinkbacktolifeforthefirsttimeinaweek.“Everythingthathappenedbetweenuswas

real.IlovePoppy.Ialwayshave.”

“No,no,no.”Connerlaughsitoffastheramblingsofamadman.“You’reconfused.Thatwholegag

wasamindfuck.Whatyouneedis—”

“WhatIneedisPoppy.”IglancetoLarissa.“Thankyou.”

Sheblinksbacksurprise.“Forwhat?”

“ForsuggestingIdotheonethingI’vebeenhesitatingonallweek—flyingouttoL.A.totrytowinher

back.”

Itakeoffforthedoorandbarreloutintothewaitingblizzardwiththeknifelikewindtearingthrough

myclothes.ButthewindisnomatchforwhatitfeelslikeinaworldwithoutPoppy.I’vetastedparadise

anddecidedhellisn’ttheplaceforme.

“Stade!”

IglancebacktofindConnertrippinginthesnowashechasesafterme.

“Didyoumeanwhatyousaidbackthere?”Helooksstumped,butmostlyhelookshurt.ConnerandI

arebrothers,andthat’swhathe’llalwaysbetome.

“Yes.Iloveher.I’velovedherallmylife.Idon’tknowwhereitwentwrongallthoseyearsago,but

I’mnotabouttoletanotherdaydriftbywithoutlettingherknowexactlyhowIfeel.Nobody—noteven

youcanstopme.”Ineedlehimwithahardstare.IconfessedtoConneroncebeforehowIfeltabouthis

sister,andhemadenobonesaboutthefacthewasn’tafan.

Hegivesaslownod,hishardenedexpressionslowlymeltingaway.“Okay.”Hegivesalighttapto

myarm.“Gogether,man.Ihopethingsworkoutthewayyou’rethinking.”Hetuckshischintotheground

ashemakeshiswaybacktothebar,dejected.

Thatdidn’texactlyfeelasifheweregivingmehisblessing.ButIdon’treallygiveadamn.

I’mcomingforyou,Pops.

Andthistime,I’mgoingtoputmyheartontheline.

Ihopeyou’lltakeit.

It’sbeenyoursforyears.

THEJOKE’SONYOU

POPPY

inedays.

It’s been nine painful days since the big blowout at my mother’s party, and time is proving to be a

ficklebitchbecauseshesureashellisn’thealingthiswound.

Idragmyselfoutofbed,shower,dress,andheaddowntoSantaMonicawheretheofficeofKleese

and Sloane Designs resides—a new up-and-coming design firm where I’m hopeful to do more this go

aroundthandeliveraperfectcupofcoffee.I’mallforworkingmywayupinanyfirm,butafterfiveyears

ofprivateuniversity,Iwashopingforsomethingalittlelesssub-entrylevel.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I’m quick to fish it out. As soon as I turn the flashing screen

towardme,I’mratherdisappointedtoseeit’sjustanotheremailtomyinbox.Intruth,Iwashopingitwas

anothertextfromJax.Thedelugeofelectronicshoulder-tapsbeganalmostassoonasIlefttheparty,but

in typical Jax robotic texting fashion, they didn’t say more than Eight Ball? Call me. Don’t leave me

hanging.I’mhere.Let’stalk.Thatlastonewasapersonalfave.I’mprettysureJaxandIshouldtalk

againoneday.It’sjustnotgoingtohappenforanothermillenniumorso.I’mprettystaunchonnotgoing

backtoOakGrove.I’vealreadymanagedtoconvincemyfatherthatcelebratingnextChristmasherein

Los Angeles would be fantastic. Mack said she would love to take the kids to Disneyland, and Conner

saidhe’dlovetohangtenatthebeach.Sothere’sthat.Itallseemstobefallingintoplacenicelyforme,

with the one exception that I happen to miss Oak Grove like never before. Who knew I would miss a

white winter? I’m pretty sure I only miss the winter boots that accompanied said white winter—and

sweaters,andscarves,andsippinghotcocoabythefire.InL.A.,everyotherweekbringsaheatwave,

anddon’tevengetmestartedonthedemonwindsknownastheSantaAnas.

SantaMonicaisposh,litteredwithbeautifulpeople,blueskies,andaribbonofoceanviewnomatter

whereyouseemtogo.

KleeseandSloaneDesignsislocatedinawhitebrickbuildingneartheThirdStreetPromenade—a

stellar shopping, eating, people-watching venue where I will undoubtedly try my best to forget my

troublesviamyAmericanExpresscard.

Istepinandspotthesecretary,apetiteblondewithherhairupinamessybunandlarge,dark-framed

glassesthatleavemequestioningifthey’rejustforshow.Nevertheless,she’stoodistractedonherphone

tonoticeme.Shehasapairofearbudsburiedinherskull,andherheadisboppingtotheinvisiblebeat.I

waveahandoverherpaperwork,andshestartlestolife.

“Oh,sorry!Youmustbethenewgirl.”Sheavertshereyes,asmiletuggingonherlips.

“Um—yes,I’mPoppyMontgomery,thenewdesignassistant.”

“Goonin.”Sheplucksanearbudoutofherearandfrownsoveratmeamoment.“Ihaveanothergig,

soyoudon’tneedtofeelsorryforme.ButonedayIreallyhopethingsworkoutformeliketheydidyou.”

Shegivesaquickshrugbeforegettingbacktoherphone,andI’mnotquitesurewhatthehellshejustsaid.

Somethingaboutanewgig?I’mnotthenewsecretary,amI?Ohhell,Iknowmyplace.Iprobablyam.

Ienterthroughtheoversizedbluedoorandfindmyselfinaratherlargeofficewithanequallylarge

deskmadeofwhatresemblesreclaimedwoodandanenormousleatherchairturnedtowardthewall.

“Hello?” I call out to the rocking leather chair. “It’s me, Poppy Montgomery. I’m your new design

assistant.ThesecretarysaidIcouldcomerightin?”

“I’mgladyou’rehere,”awarmdeepvoicecallsfromtheothersideoftheleatherbarrier.

“Ifyou’reonthephone,Icancomeback.IcanrundowntoStarbucksandpicksomethingupforyouif

youlike?Justletmeknowwhatyouwant.”

“WhatIwant?HowaboutasteamingcupofeatingcrowbecauseI’mabouttoissueoneventi-sized

apology?”Thechairturnsslowly,andeverythinginmeseizes.Thatface,thosedimples,thoseoceanblue

bedroomeyes—he’shere.

“Jax?”

Inlessthanasecond,heclosesthedistancebetweenus,andhisstrongarmswrapthemselvesaround

me.Hiscolognepermeatesmysenses,andIcan’tstopmyselffrompokingmyfingerintohisdimpleand

laughingashappytearscometotheparty.

“You’rereal!”

“Yes,I’mreal.”Hischestexpandsingirthwithhisnextbreath,andhisdressshirtstretchestautinthat

sexywaythatdrivesmewild.Jaxsongazesdownatmewithalovingexpression,anditmakesmefeel

safe and wanted. “I couldn’t stay away, Eight Ball.” He offers up a sad smile. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I

swear on everything that’s good, I would never want to do that. I take back all of those nasty words. I

didn’tmeanthem.”

“Wow, you really go all out when you want to apologize to a girl. Can I ask what you did with my

boss?Ifyoutellmethathe’stiedupunderthedesk,wemightwanttomakeourescapenowbeforethe

copsgethere.”

“I promise you, he’s not under the desk. In fact, it’s not even his desk anymore. I believe he said

somethingaboutretiringtoFloridaashewasleaving.”

“What?”Ishoutsoloudmyvoicereverberatesoffthewalls.“Hecan’tretire.Ineedthisjob.Thisjob

equalsfoodandshelter.”

“Youhaveyourjob.”HisdarkbrowsnarrowintoaV,andIcan’thelpbutrunmyfingeroverone.

Thishastobeadream.“Infact,youhaveapromotion.You’rethenewtopdesigner.Isenteveryoneelse

packing.”

I inch back, amused. “Jaxson, you can’t just stroll into someone else’s business and start firing

people.”

“Icanifit’smynewbusiness.IboughtoutKleeseandSloaneDesignsyesterday.Imadethemanoffer

theycouldn’trefuse.It’salreadyinlegal.Soyousee,IhaveadilemmaI’mhopingyou’llhelpmewith.I

haveanewdesignfirm,andIneedsomeonewhoknowsathingortwoaboutdecoratingtotakeover.”

“Thatwouldbeme.”Apartofmedemandstobeaffrontedbymybillionairebuddyswoopinginand

scoopingupthedesignfirmIhadn’tevenstartedattoaddtohisportfolio—butthisisJaxson,andhedid

itforme.It’ssoincrediblyromanticthatIcannolongerkeepthetearsatbay.“Imayhavetorelocatethe

companytoDenversoIcanbenearaverygoodfriendwhodoesoutrageousthingsforme,allinthename

ofanapology.”

Thatleftdimpleofhisdigsindeepandtakesmyovarieswithit.

“I’mallforthat.ButIhaveaconfessiontomake.”Hepullsmeincloser,andhissoftmintybreath

warmsme.“Ididcomeheretoapologize,butIwashopingforsomethingmore.AsmuchasIenjoybeing

yourgoodfriend,Iwasthinkingwecouldexploreothertitles.”

“YourLordship?”Ibitedownhardonmylowerliptokeepthebubblinglaughteratbay.“Ordoyou

preferYourHighness?”

“Onlyifyou’llbemyqueen.”

Thereitis.AproclamationIhavewaitedalifetimefor.

“Youdorealizeourmothersarenowheretobeseen.”Irunmyfingeroverhiswellstubbledcheek.

“Therearesomeconversationstheyshouldn’tbeprivyto.”

I nod into him, digging my fingers through the back of his hair. I have always loved how thick and

shinyitlooked,andthis,righthere,istheculminationofaboutathousandfantasies.

“Ithink maybe weshould have aconversation. Jaxson—I’ve been inlove with youfor so long.” A

lump the size of Oak Grove High settles in my throat. “I tried to tell you. I waited all the way until

graduationnight—talkaboutlastminute.”Imakeaface.“Thatnightatthatbigpartyyouthrew,Iasked

Conner to bring you out to the old oak so I could tell you how I felt—only you never showed. I got a

sloppydrunkMilesFramptoninstead.”Igivealittleshrug.“AfterIpriedhispawoffme,IfoundConner,

andhesaidyouweren’tinterested.”MyheartspearswithpainjustthinkingabouthowawfulIfeltthat

nightandjustabouteverynightthatfollowed.Thiswasn’tarejectionfromsomehighschoolinfatuation.

Thiswasmyverybestfriendturningmedownwithoutsomuchasaword.

Jaxstaresintentlyovermyshoulder.“Pops.”Hecloseshiseyes.“That’snotwhathappened.Conner

cameandfoundmeallright.Hesaid‘Iwantyoutocheckthisout’andbroughtmeovertotheoldoak

whereIsawyouandMilesgoingatit.Therealtragedybeing—IhadjusttoldyourbrotherhowIfelt.I

toldhimtofindyou.”Heshakeshishead.“ItoldhimIwantedtobewithyou.Thatheshouldprobably

getoveritbecauseIknewwewereright.”

My heart stops. I can’t breathe. “You told Conner that?” An instant pang of grief hits me. “Conner

knew,andhenevertoldme?IthinkI’mgoingtokillmybrother.”

“No.Savehimforme.Butfornow,let’sshelfalltalksofmurderuntilwegetbacktoOakGrove.”He

tilts his chin toward his shoulder. “That is, if that’s what you want. You can stay in L.A. We’ll make it

work.IswearIdidn’tcomeoutherelikesomecavemanwantingtodragyoubackbythehair.”

Alaughbleatsfromme.“I’mgoingwillingly.ButwhataboutLarissa?Shemadeitsoundlikethetwo

ofyouhadsomethinggoingthatImighthaveinterrupted.”

“Notareality.She’samistakeImadethatIneverwantapartinagain.”

“Shesaidyoutoldheraboutouragreement.”IbitedownhardonmylipbecauseIcanfeelthetears

bubblingtothesurface.

“She heard Mack telling Conner about it and wanted to know if it was true. I asked her not to say

anything.”

“Iknewshewasalyingwitch.”Ipullhimdownbythebackoftheneck,thoselipsI’vebeencraving

justinchesfrommine.

“So,you’llcomebacktoOakGrove?”

“Yes.Imisshome.Butmostly,Imissedyou.Iloveyou,JaxsonLivingstonStade.Ihavelovedyoufor

aslongasIhaveknownyou,andthere’snothingthatcanstopmefromlovingyouuntilIdrawmylast

dyingbreath.”

Thatsexygrinofhisfinallyshowsupbeforedefusingabit.“Iloveyou,too,Poppy.Iwishwenever

hadagapinourrelationship,butI’mallformakingupforlosttime.I’msogladwe’refinallywherewe

needtobe—together.”

“Together.”Ican’ttakemyeyesoffthisbeautifulman.Mybeautifulman.

Jaxleansinandpresseshislipstomine.Mymouthfallsopen,andIwelcomehimintomyheart,my

body,mysoul.Hereweare,togetheratlast.

Jaxsonfeelslikehome.

Heishome.He’swhereIburiedmyheartallofthoselong,lonelyyearsago—andnow,finally,Ican

feelitbeatingonceagain.

COURSE

,wedon’trushbacktoOakGrove.Westoppedoffatahoteloverlookingthewaterandmade

upforlosttimebymakingloveproperlywithalltherightwordsandourheartsknittedtooneanotherthe

wayitshouldhavebeenthefirsttime.ComeWednesday,Jaxfliesusbackhomeinhisprivatejet.Ihad

onlybeenonaStadejetonce,andthatwastooglewhileIdroppedmymotherandDeboffbeforethey

leftforNewYorkafewyearsback.Yes,Jaxhasanimpressivecollectionoftoys,butthat’snotwhyI

lovehim.Ilovehimbecauseheistheepitomeofwhatamanshouldbe,kind,caring,anall-aroundstellar

human being. And tonight, the two of us are going to do what all-around stellar people should always

strivetodo—healbrokenhearts,namelyourmothers’.

IcalledMackandaskedifshecouldwrangleeveryoneovertoMom’sfordinner.Imayhavetoldher

that something huge has happened between Jax and me—and, of course, she took the fertile leap to

parenthood.ButIdidn’tstopher.IfigureofallpeopleMackdeservesalittleprankofherownevenif

shedidinadvertentlypullthisoneonherself.I’llletherstewinthosepinkandblueprenatalfluidjuices

foradayorso,becauseafterall,Iammymother’sdaughter.Butasfortherestofthepeoplepresent,they

won’thaveacluethatJaxandIareevenontheguestlist.

Thehouseislituplikeajack-o-lanternaswegetoutofthecar.Jaxcomesoverandwrapshisarms

aroundme,thewhitesofhiseyesglintinginthemoonlight.

“Youreadyforthis,EightBall?”

“AsreadyasI’lleverget.Iguessourheydayofbestingourmotherswasshort-lived.”

Hisheadticksbackaninch.“Areyoukidding?”Heletsoutarumbleofalaughaswemakeourway

up the porch. “We have an entire lifetime ahead of us to get even with those two. What do you say,

tomorrow, we map out an outline of things to kick us off in the right direction? In bed, of course.” He

pressesakisstothetopofmyhead.

“Iwouldn’thaveitanyotherway.”Isliphimakiss,andmytonguespankshislikeapromiseofthings

tocomebeforeweheadonin.

Hepullsbackwiththosebedroomeyes,afaintsmilefloatingonhislips.“Yes,ma’am.MayIhave

another?”

“Soonerthanlater,Gordo.”Igivealittlewink.

Thedoorisunlocked,andweentertofindeveryonecongregatedinthelivingroomforthemostpart.

Thesmellofsomethingdelicioushangsthickintheair.

MomturnstowardConnerwithherfingerintheairanddoesadoubletakeourway.Sheletsouta

shriekthatcanwakeeverylastsoulinthetowncemeteryastheroomexplodesaroundus.

“What’sgoingon?”ConnerasksasbothMomandDebtrytocatchtheirbreath,holdingtheirchestsas

iftheywerebothabouttobitethebigone.

“We’regoingon.”Jaxwrapsanarmaroundmyshouldersandpullsmeclose.Wedecidedontheway

homethatwewouldcutrighttothequick.“PoppyandIaretogether—forgood.Andthatisthetruth.”

BothMomandDebtilttheirheadmywayasifawaitingconfirmation.

“Whathesaid.”IleaninandplantakissoverJaxson’scheek.“Yes,itstartedoffasagagtogetyou

twobackforallthoseyearsofterror.”Igloweroveratthemamoment.“Butsomethinghappenedalong

theway.Irealizedmyfeelingsweretrue.”

Jaxlandsasoftkisstothetopofmyhead.“AndIdid,too.”

The room breaks out into cheers with Mack’s being the loudest. Mom and Deb are too busy

hyperventilatingandstaggeringourwaybeforecollapsingoverthetwoofuswithastrangulatinghug.

MompinchesJaxson’scheekandgivesitawiggle.“Iknewyoutwoweredestinedforoneanother.I

justknewit!”

“Wenevergaveuponyou!”Debchimesin.“Never,never!Ican’twaittotellallofourfriends.We

wererightaboutyou.We’realwaysrightaboutthiskindofthing.”

Mom plucks at her good friend’s arm. “Let’s get a toast together. Frasier!” she shouts to my father.

“Grabthegoodcamera!We’llneedlotsofpicturesforthescrapbook!”

Theytakeoffintothekitchen,andJulesandKalicomeover.Juleslooksasifshe’sjustsuckedona

lemon,andJaxsontickshisheadoveratherbeforeshesoftens.

“I’msorryI’vebeensohardonyou.”Shereachesoverandlandsahandonmyarm.Juleslookslikea

femalereplicaofJaxson,andI’vealwaysfoundthatintimidating—especiallysinceJaxlooksdamngood

aseithergender.“Ithinkweshoulddolunch.Isn’tthatwhattheysayinL.A.?”

Igivealittlelaugh.“Yes,butImuchpreferithereinOakGrove.Let’sdoitsoon.”

“AndI’mcomingwith.”Kalidivesovermewithanicetighthug.“I’vealwayslikedyou.Plus,Ican

talktoyouaboutthingsthatshedoesn’tcaretohearabout,”shesnips,andJulesrollshereyes.

“Trustme,nobodywantstohearyouobsessingoverCole.”

“Who’sobsessing?”

TheyarguetheirwayintothediningroomjustasMackandConnercomeover.

Jax and I decided we weren’t up for confronting Conner on night one, regarding his foray into

darknessallthoseyearsagowhenheledusbothastray.Wefigurewe’vewaitedoverfiveyearstohave

thatconversation,sowecanholdoffforonemorenight.

Mackpullsusinforonequickgrouphug.“So,thisisathing?Nojoke?You’renotheretopullmy

leg?”

“Yes,Mack—thisisallanelaborateschemetofoolyou.I’vequitmyjobandtraveledhalfwayacross

thecountryonwhatI’mprettysureisOakGrove’scoldestnightoftheyearjusttopullyourlegandwatch

youhobblearoundforafewhours.”

“Youquityourjob?”Herjawthumpstothefloor.

JaxsonandIshareaquietlaugh.“Actually,she’stheproudownerofherowndesigncompanynow.”

“It’s a long story.” I glance to my brother, and oddly, I don’t have the urge to strangle him at the

moment.“So,areyouokaywiththis?”

Hisbrowsrise,amused.“Areyoureallyasking?”

“No,”bothJaxandIanswerintandem.

Conner huffs a dry laugh and shakes his head at the two of us. Words seem to escape him at the

moment.“Ididn’tthinkso.”

MomcallsusalltothediningroomwheresheandDebhandoutchampagnefilledflutes,onebyone.

“ToPoppyandJaxson!”Momcries,andDadletsoutanoddlittlehoot.Inhisdefense,wedon’thave

champagnetoaststhatoftenattheMontgomeryresidence,sotheowlimitationistotallyexcusable.“May

youlivethelifeyou’vealwaysdreamtof—together.”

“Together!”JaxandIshoutaswetouchglasses.Heintertwineshisarmthroughmine,andweeach

take a careful sip, our eyes never drifting from one another’s. Here it is, the culmination to all of this

magic—ourloveexpressedgenuinelyinfrontofbothofourfamilies.

“AndIwouldliketosayafewwords,too.”Debclearsherthroatasalleyesfallonher.“Mydearest

Poppy”—her eyes sparkle with tears—“my lovely son, Jaxson. Charlene and I would like you both to

know that we agree—on occasion we have gone too far with our self-indulgent high jinks. And yet, on

occasionwebelievewehavedonethingsforthegreatergoodofallinvolved.”Sheoffersapeaceable

nod.“Suchasthis.”

MomandDebexchangeabriefglancebeforeturningourway.“Gotcha!”theybothshoutinunison.

JaxandIstartle,andnobodyintheroommovesaswetrytopiecethismysterytogether.

“What do you mean, gotcha?” Jax runs his hand over my back as if assuring me everything will be

fine,butonlybecauseI’mbettinghe’sslightlypanickedhimself.

Debgivesalongblink.“Wemean,thiswasallawell-orchestratedploytobringyoutwolovebirds

together!”

“Weweren’tevengoingtohaveabigbirthdayparty.”Momwavesofftheideaasifcakeandcandles

weresuddenlypassé.“Wewerelookingintocruisesuntilyourfatherhadaconniption.Hehatestoride

theopenseas.”

Debnods.“Soweputonourthinkingcaps.Ifweweregoingtobegrounded,wemightaswellhavea

goodtime,right?”Theyshareaquickcackle,andmybloodbeginstoboilalloveragain.

“You did this?” The accusation comes out with venom as if it were some felony-worthy event they

luredusinto.AndifIkilledConnerlikeIhadplanned,itwouldhavebeen.

“Of course, we did this. We simply asked Mackenzie to pretend as if she dreamed up the entire

scheme.”

“Mack!”Ishoutsolouditsoundslikeacarhorn.

My sister shrinks behind her husband. “Don’t hate the messenger! Besides, it all worked out

magnificentlyintheend.Right?”

“Right,”Isnip.Itmighthavebeentouch-and-goforaminute,butwhybringthatup?

Conner frowns at our mother. “So, you two thought forcing Jax and Pops together would be the

ultimategag?”Icantellhe’sstillnotsoldonthatwholeJaxandPopsforlifething.

“Anditwas!”Momspikesafingerhisway.“ButI’lltellyou”—sheturnsherattentionovertoJaxand

meonceagain—“youreallyhadusgoingwiththatbreakup.Ithinkthat’spaybackenoughforalifetime.

You had us both sending a few knee-mails to the man upstairs. But we weren’t too worried. We saw

enoughphysicalevidencetoassureusthetwoofyouhadarealbond.”

“Lotsofsexualchemistry.”Debstabsafistthroughtheairasiftoexemplifythefact,andtheroom

breaksoutintoagroan.

“Mom.”Jaxshakeshishead.

“Oh,hush!”DebandMommaketheirwayover.“It’strue,andyoubothknowit.Now,plantawetone

oneachother.CharandIwanttogetinthispicture.”

JaxandIlaughaswelookintooneanother’seyes.

Theydidit.Theypulledtheultimatefastoneonus,andweneversawitcoming.Iguessinawaywe

haditcoming.

Jaxlandshislipsovermine,andwesharearatherchaste,lingeringkissthatburnsitsbeautyintothe

deepestchamberofmyheart.

Hereweare,togetheratlast.Jaxsonandme,justthewayourmothersplannedit.

Theyalwaysseemtogettheirwayintheend.

Andthistime—Idon’tmindonebit.

JAXSON

heStarryNightsBarandGrillisfilledtothebrimtonight.There’saroaringfireandflowingbooze,

butit’sthelivemusicthatkeepsthemcomingbackindroves.I’mglad.Iwanttoseeallofmyfriends

succeed,andHunterisatthetopofthelist.

“So,you’restickingaroundthistime,huh?”heteasesPoppyasIholdhertight.“Youreallythinkthis

bozoisworthit?”

“Actually,Ithinkyou’reworthit.”Shegivesaslywink.“ThisisagoodtimetotellJaxitwasallan

elaboratehoaxtounveilourundyingloveforoneanother.”

“Whoa.”Ipullherawayfromhimamoment.“Timeout.Ithinkweneedtolayoffthehellishhumor

forawhilebeforeyoubothgivemeaheartattack.”

Poppy belts out a laugh. “You know I only have eyes for you, Gordo.” She turns back to our old

friend.“ButI’msurethere’saspecialsomeoneoutthereforyousomewhere,Hunter.”

Sadiecomesupasifoncue.I’mnotsureIseeherwithHunter,butPoppyhashintedaboutitatimeor

two.

“Here she is now.” Poppy sends her best friend sailing at him as she tap dances us in the opposite

direction.SadiecameoverthatfirstnightwewerebackinOakGroveandpracticallyjumpedintobed

withus.Shewasthatthrilledforus.Poppyhasbeenstayingwithmemostly,butIknowit’snotidealto

be holed up at my mother’s no matter how big the house is. Which is exactly why I’m paying the

contractor working on my new home double to finish the damn thing twice as fast. I’m sure it doesn’t

workthatway,butitwasworthatry.

“Thereheis!”Poppyjumpsupanddown,andIstraintoseewhoshe’sworkedupover.

“Conner.”Itcomesoutflatandunenthused.He’stheveryreasonwepulledourselvesoutofbedtobe

here.Poppyhadaconversationwithhimearlier,andhehappenedtomentionhe’dbeatthebartonight.

“Let’sdothis.”

“Remember.”Shepullsmeclose.“We’reaunitedfront.”

Adulllaughpumpsfromme.“There’snowayhe’llbeabletodivideandconquer.”I’mshockedhe

wasabletogetawaywithitforsolong.

ConnerstompsupwiththatI’m-slightly-pissedlookonhisface.Igetit.I’mwithhissister.He’dmost

likelybepissedatjustaboutanyoneshewaswith.Butthisisme—hisbrotherforallpracticalpurposes.

We’vebeenthroughalotandhavegrowncloseovertheyears.Iknowthisisweirdforhim.Trustme,I

wouldn’twanthimbangingmysistereither.

“What’s up, you two?” He offers Pops a tight smile while smacking me over the arm. “You finally

cameupforair,huh?”Hetakesaswigofhisbeerlikeheneedsit.

“What’supindeed?”Popscomesinhot,andIofferherhandagentlesqueezeinhopesshe’llgoeasy

onhim.“I’dliketoknowwhatwasupwithyouallthoseyearsagoonmygraduationnight.”

Heticksbackasifhe’sjustbeenassaulted.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”

“ItoldyouhowIfeltabouthim!”Hervoicebreaksassheshoutsthewords.“Itrustedyouwithmy

greatestsecret,andyoumadesureeverythingwenttohell.”

Hiseyeswidenamoment,andyoucanpracticallyseethesceneplayingoutinhismindonceagain.

“That night.” He closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He shrugs as if it were no big deal. “What does it

matter?Itallworkedout.”

“Itmatters.”Andnowhe’sstartingtopissmeoff.“WhatIwanttoknowishowyougotMilestohead

meoffatthepass?”

Connerpushesoutatiredbreath.“Allright.Thisiswhatwentdown.Poppytoldmehowshefelt,and

Ithoughtthatwascrap.”Helookstoherandholdsouthishands.“I’msorry.Ithoughtyouwereconfused.

Ididn’tthinkyouknewwhatyouwanted,andJaxjustsohappenedtobearoundallthetime.Ididn’twant

you gluing yourself to the first guy you saw. I for one was rooting for you to expand your wings in

college.”Hewinces.“Notlikethat.”

“Somyfeelingsweren’timportanttoyou.”Poppysinksinherseat,thedisappointmentexudingfrom

herinpalpablewaves.

“BecauseIdidn’tbelievetheywerereal.I’msorry,Pops.”Hiseyesglossoverwithtears.“Andyes,

whenyousentmeaway,IhappenedtobumpintoMiles.Hewassotankedhedidn’tknowwhichwaywas

up, so I steered him toward you. I thought you’d shove him aside and take off. And”—he looks to me

—“whenIcameintotheparty,Ibumpedintoyou.I’llbehonest.Ithoughtthetwoofyouweretryingto

pullsomethingoveronme.Bothofyouconfessingyourfeelingsforoneanother—tomeofallpeopleon

theverysamenight?Anyway,IguessIoweyouanapology,too.But—asmuchasIhatetoadmitthis—a

partofmedidn’twantthetwoofyoutogether.PoppyandIhavealwaysbeenclose—thetwoofushave

alwaysbeenclose.”Helookstome.“Iguessthatleavesmeoutoftheequationnow.”

“Nottrue!”Poppyisthefirsttolungeathim.“Iswearit,Con,Iloveyou.Iwantustobeevencloser

thanwehavebeen.NowthatI’mbackintown,Iwantustodoallthosethingsweusedtodo.I’mwilling

toreinvestinusifyouare.”

“I’mthere.”Hetapshisforeheadtohers.“AndI’mthereforyou,too.”Henodsmyway.

“I’m in.” I slap him five. Some things are simply meant to be, and the three of us are meant to be

knittedtogetherforlife.That’sthewayIwantit.Thereisnootherway.

“I’min.”Poppylandsherhandovermine,andthethreeofusliftonthreeandletoutamightyroar.

We’rein.PoppyandIareinforlife.

Ipullherinandstealakissoffherlips,runningtheriskofhavingmymouthrippedoffbyConner

himself,andyetIsurvivetheendeavor.

SoIstealanother.

Andthenanother.

Whatthehell—Istealonemore.

UNDAY

,thedayoftheweek,accordingtomymother,thatPoppyMontgomerymadeherdebutonthis

spinningbluerockandIwasprivilegedtoholdherhandfortheveryfirsttime,IbringPopsouttotheold

oaktreewithme.

“My—whatabighammerandachiselyouhave,”shesaysinherbestLittleRedRidingHoodvoice.

“Thebettertoloveyouwith.”It’salamecomeback,butinamomentshe’llhopefullyseewhatImean.

“Wow,Stade,thatsoundslikeIneedtohaveabaseballonstandby.”

“Onlyifyouwanttohelp.ButI’mprettysureabatmightbecounterproductive.”

WecomeuponthetreeandIpatmyhandalongthetrunk,andaflurryofsnowrainsdownfromthe

branches.

“Whatareyoudoing?”

“I’mdoingwhatIshouldhavedonewhenIwaseleven,andIwastemptedtodoitthen.”Itakethe

chiselandtapouttheshapeofaheartrightinthecenterofouroldfriend.

“Jax,”Poppypurrslikeakitten.“Youaresucharomantic!”

IgiveaslysmileasIcarveherinitials,thenmine.

“Can I?” She holds out her hand, and I give her the tools. Carefully, Poppy carves out a plus sign

betweenourinitials.“There.Nowwhenwelookatityearsfromnow,we’llalwaysknowitwasmewho

pulledthewholethingtogether.”

Alaughthumpsthroughme.“Youdohaveawayofsavingtheday.”Itipherchinupgentlywithmy

finger.“Yousavedme.Imeanitwithallofmybeing.Infact”—Idroptothesnowononeknee,myeyes

stilltrainedonhers—“Ican’triskadaywithoutyoubymyside.”Ipulltheringfrommypocketandhold

itbetweenthetwoofuslikeafallenstarI’vecapturedjustforher.It’safive-caratflawlessemeraldcut

diamond that I’m pretty sure qualifies as an otherworldly treasure. It’s showy and perhaps slightly

overdone.I’msurePoppywouldhavewantedsomethingfarmoremeager,butIhavetheurgetogiveher

themoon.Ican’thelpit.Iloveher.Iwanthertohaveitall.Iwouldhavegladlymadeittentimesbigger

if I knew there was half a chance she’d wear it. “Eight Ball, would you do me the honor of being my

wife?Willyoumarryme,Poppy?”

Shelandsonherknees,thankfullydroppingtheweaponrythatIinadvertentlyarmedherwith.

“OhGod.”Shecupsherhandoverhermouth.“Gordo!”Tearsspoutfromthecornersofhereyesas

shebeginstosob.

“Well?”afemalevoiceshoutsfromthebushesasourmothersmaketheirpresenceknown.Imayhave

alertedthemtothefactthataproposalwouldbegoingdownthisevening.Icouldn’tletthemmissouton

the biggest moment of their lives, now, could I? “What’s it going to be?” Mom screams as if her life

dependsontheanswer.Minedoes.

Poppytipsherheadtotheside,herlovinggazestillsettomine.“It’sgoingtobeyes.”Shenodsas

tearsstreamdownhercheeks.“Athousandtimes,yes!”

“Shesaidyes!”CharshoutsintothelavenderskyaseveningfallsoverOakGrove.

Ourmotherswhoopitup,howlingintotheeveningastheydanceupastorm.

“Thankyou,”Iwhisperoverherlipsasourmouthsfuseoveroneanother.

Poppysaidyes.

First,shewasmyfriend,thenmyfirstandonlylove,andonedaysoonshe’llbemybride,myentire

universe,mybrightfuture.

Poppy pulls back with her eyes still half-closed, ignoring the fact our mothers are trotting up and

downthedrivewaylikeacoupleofturkeysscreamingtheirheadsoff.

“Ialwaysknewyouwouldonedaybemine.”Herlipsglowadeepredfromourfeveredkiss.“And

hereweare.Onedayfinallyarrived.”

IpressakisstotheringasIholdituptoher.“There’ssomethinginscribedontheinside.”

“Really?”Shetrembleswithalaugh.“Let’sseeifmynakedeyesarespryenoughtodecipherwhatit

says.”Ihandherthering,andshesquintsintoit.“ToEightBall,loveGordo.”Poppybitesdownonher

liptokeepfrombawlingthatmuchharder.“Youreallyaremybestfriend,youknowthat?”

“Luckyme.”IpressakisstoherfingerasIsliponthering.“Doesthatmeanyou’llgooutformojitos

withmewhileyoutrashtalkyourhusband?”

“Veryfunny.AndIwouldneverdosuchathingbecauseyou’retoowisetogivemereasonto.”

“Yougotmethere.”Itakeagentlebiteoutofherlowerlipandstretchitoutslow.“You’remybest

friend,too,Pops.AndImeanit.”Ipickupherlefthandandkissit.“Mymothertoldmethatwhenshe

broughtmeintothehospitalroomthenightyouwereborn,sheplacedyourlefthandinmineandbrought

ittomylips.”

“Iknow.I’veseenthepicture.”

I give a knowing nod. It’s hard to miss in her mother’s hallway. “That was a symbol—her way of

pronouncingthatyouwouldonedaybemine.Andnowyouare.”Ibrushherhairbackbehindherear.“I

promise—you will want for nothing, and I will make sure you are warm by my side each and every

night.”

Tearscomefastasshegivesalittlelaugh.“Throwinafewbabieshereandthere,wouldyou?”

“I’llthrowinfifty.”

Shelaughsstraighttomyface.“Coolit,Stade.Youdon’thavetogobigoneverything.”

“Nope.”Ipullherdownintothesnowwithme.“Justlovingyou.”

PoppyandIrollaroundunderthatbigoldoaktree,lovingoneanother,laughing,tryingtogetourfill

ofthosewhite-hotkisses.

Everywhere we land, the snow melts to nothing. Poppy and I are one fire, blazing as bright as the

futurelaidoutinfrontofus.

We may have started off innocent, but in the end—it took being a little naughty to get us where we

neededtobe.

Andhereweare,lockedinoneanother’sarms.

Togetherforever,thewayweweredestinedtobe.

THEEND

BOOKSBYADDISONMOORE

Romance

3:AMKisse s(3:AMKisse s1)

Winte rKisse s(3:AMKisse s2)

SugarKisse s(3:AMKisse s3)

Whiske yKisse s(3:AMKisse s4)

RockCandyKisse s(3:AMKisse s5)

Ve lve tKisse s(3:AMKisse s6)

WildKisse s(3:AMKisse s7)

CountryKisse s(3:AMKisse s8)

Forbidde nKisse s(3:AMKisse s9)

DirtyKisse s(3:AMKisse s10)

Stole nKisse s(3:AMKisse s11)

LuckyKisse s(3:AMKisse s12)

Re ve nge Kisse s(3:AMKisse s13)

BurningThroughGravity(BurningThroughGravity1)

AThousandStarryNights(BurningThroughGravity2)

FireinanAmberSky(BurningThroughGravity3)

BeautifulOblivion(BeautifulOblivion1)

BeautifulIllusions(BeautifulOblivion2)

BeautifulElixir(BeautifulOblivion3)

TheSolitudeofPassion

SomeonetoLove(SomeonetoLove1)

SomeoneLikeYou(SomeonetoLove2)

SomeoneForMe(SomeonetoLove3)

YoungAdultRomance

MeltWithYou(ATotally’80sRomance1)

TaintedLove(ATotally’80sRomance2)

HoldMeNow(ATotally’80sRomance3)

ParnormalRomance

(CelestraBookWorldinOrder)

Ethe re al(Ce le straSe rie sBook1)

Tre mble (Ce le straSe rie sBook2)

Burn(Ce le straSe rie sBook3)

Wicke d(Ce le straSe rie sBook4)

Ve x(Ce le straSe rie sBook5)

Expe l(Ce le straSe rie sBook6)

ToxicPartOne (Ce le straSe rie sBook7)

ToxicPartTwo(Ce le straSe rie sBook8)

Elysian(Ce le straSe rie sBook9)

Pe rfe ctLove (ACe le straNove lla)

EtherealKnights(CelestraKnights)

SeasonoftheWitch(ACelestraCompanion)

Ephemeral(TheCountenanceTrilogy1)

Evanescent(TheCountenanceTrilogy2)

Entropy(TheCountenanceTrilogy3)

CelestraForeverAfter(CelestraForeverAfter1)

TheDragonandtheRose(CelestraForeverAfter2)

TheSerpentineButterfly(CelestraForeverAfter3)

CrownofAshes(CelestraForeverAfter4)Soon!

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ThankYOUsomuchforreadingNAUGHTYBYNATURE!Ihadsomuchfunwithsexy,deliciousJax,

andIhopeyoudid,too!Ifyouenjoyedthehumorandsexytimesinthisbook,Ihopeyou’llcheckoutmy

other romantic comedies as well. I’m always thrilled to hear from my readers, so please chat with me

overattheReaderCorneroronmyFacebookpage!

Ahugeandheartythankstomylovelybetas,LisaMarksonandTabbyCoots!Lisa,youareatruebook

angel,andyouhaveallofmyheart!Thankyouforyourtirelesshardwork!Tabby,youarebrilliantand

sweet,andI’msoverygladyoudroppedintomylife!Youareawesomeoneverylevel.

ToKailaEileenTuringan-Ramos,Iamalwaysinaweofyoursuperpowers.Thankyouforbeingso

generouswithmeandfortakingthetimetogivemeahandwhenIneedit!XOXO

TosweetKathrynJacoby,despitethechallengesyouarefacing,youhaveshownyourselftobetough

assteel—yourlightshinesbright,andI’msogladIknowyou!

Tomyamazingeditingninja,PaigeMaroneySmith,Iamsogratefulforyourkindness!Ifyouevertry

toleave,Iwillwrapmyarmsaroundyouranklesandbecomeafifthappendage.Justsaying.

And last, but never least, thank you to Him who sits on the throne. Worthy is the Lamb! Glory and

honorandpowerareyours.Ioweyoueverything.

ABOUTTHEAUTHOR

Addison Moore is a New York Times,USAToday, and Wall Street Journalbestselling author who writes contemporary and paranormal

romance.HerworkhasbeenfeaturedinCosmopolitanMagazine.Previouslysheworkedasatherapistonalockedpsychiatricunitfornearly

a decade. She resides on the West Coast with her husband, four wonderful children, and two dogs where she eats too much chocolate and

staysupwaytoolate.Whenshe'snotwriting,she'sreading.Addison’sCelestraSerieshasbeenoptionedforfilmby20

Ce nturyFox.

Feelfreetovisitheron

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Document Outline

Title Page
Copyright
Books by Addison Moore
1. Midnight Mischief
2. Jaxson
3. Sensual Shenanigans
4. Jaxson
5. Sexcapades
6. Jaxson
7. Hot and Heavy Horseplay
8. Jaxson
9. Risqué Business
10. Jaxson
11. Playful Misconduct
12. Jaxson
13. The Joke’s on You
14. Jaxson
Books by Addison Moore
Acknowledgments
About the Author

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