Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 54520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Her armor cracks, gaze ripping from mine.
Gotcha, Goldilocks.
“God, you’re impossible,” she snaps, clutching her dress tighter before storming into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.
I laugh under my breath, unable to resist.
This weekend might be fun after all.
Once I’m dressed, I drop onto the edge of the bed and scroll through my phone, waiting her out. Almost thirty minutes crawl by before the bathroom door finally opens.
I look up, ready to make some smartass remark about how long she took, but the second she steps out, the words vanish, air punching straight from my lungs.
The emerald-green silk clings like a sin, skimming every curve before it dares to let go. Her hair is sleek instead of wild, makeup smoked darker, turning those whiskey-colored eyes into weapons that hit their mark every damn time.
She isn’t just beautiful, she’s temptation spun into elegance, danger wrapped in grace. The kind of sight that could bring a man to his knees.
I’m already halfway there, but make no mistake, if I go down, I’m taking her with me.
Her weight shifts under my stare, eyes uncertain. “Too much?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. You look…nice.”
Understatement of the fucking century.
She glances down, second-guessing herself anyway. “Ugh, forget it. I’m changing.”
Before she can turn, I’m on my feet, catching her arm. “No, you’re not.”
Her gaze snaps to mine, wide and vulnerable.
“You look perfect, Harlow. Like a woman who is happy for her sister, long over Finchy Boy, and living her best life with her childhood nemesis.”
A ghost of a smile curves her lips, the kind that slips beneath my skin and stays there.
I offer my arm then, refusing to let her doubt herself any longer. “Ready to fake the perfect date?”
She hooks hers through mine, chin lifting with the confidence I’ve been waiting for. “Ready.”
A slow smirk tugs at my mouth.
Showtime.
Laughter hums through the elegant dining room as twenty-five of us sit around a long gold-draped table, conversations drifting in clusters down its length.
At this end, it’s us, my parents, Hattie and Finch, with their maid of honor and best man beside them.
On the surface, it’s everything you’d expect from a rehearsal dinner, except something is off—way off.
Hattie fawns all over Finch like the perfect bride-to-be, but every laugh sounds forced, every smile rehearsed. Like she’s been trained for it.
Even more strange, there isn’t a single friend of hers here. They all seem to belong to Finch. His family. His friends. His world. Even her maid of honor looks like she has been plucked from his entourage.
It’s weird…unsettling even.
The only upside is being spared the pitying looks and awkward comments I was expecting. At least for tonight…
A burst of laughter pulls me from my thoughts. Linc’s at the center of it, grinning like he belongs here, even coaxing a chuckle out of my usually stoic father.
He’s completely stolen the show with my parents tonight, something that seems to have really pissed off Finch, considering the scowl he’s been wearing since we sat down.
“Harlow, you never told us he was so funny,” Dad says, still smiling.
Linc shoots me a glance over his glass, looking far too pleased with himself.
“That's Linc for ya,” I force out, the words as sweet as molasses. “Always a barrel of laughs.”
He chuckles, probably knowing how much it pains me to say that out loud.
Though, if I’m being honest, having him here hasn’t been nearly as unbearable as I imagined. I’ve only wanted to throat-punch him twice, which might just be a new record.
He’s even been kind of nice. Maybe a little too nice. That must be why I nearly combusted when he peeled off his shirt earlier, muscles on full display, like some kind of god. Or why my pulse stuttered when I walked out of the bathroom and caught him staring at me like I was the only thing in the room worth seeing.
For someone who’s spent her entire life being overlooked by the people who are supposed to love her most…that means everything.
“Tell me again how this all came about,” my mother prods lightly, a soft curve to her lips as she swirls her wine between Linc and me.
“I already told you, Mom, we share the same friends.”
She nods. “I know. But this seems new, and you moved back years ago, something I still don’t understand.”
That’s because she’s always hated living in Passion Falls. She doesn’t realize that town has always felt more like home to me than her house ever did.
“So,” she presses gently. “What changed?”
“I’d love to know that too,” Finch slides in, his tone filled with quiet challenge. “From what Hattie told me, you two were quite the rivals growing up. Couldn’t even stand living on the same street, let alone being in the same room together. A pretty drastic switch if you ask me.”
I can’t tell if it’s suspicion or jealousy lacing his tone. Not over me, but over Linc stealing the spotlight at his own rehearsal dinner.