“Libby,” I squawk.
“Is that a compliment?” Ollie asks, glancing between us.
“It’s a gross overstepping of boundaries. Ignore her.”
“Ignore me at your peril,” Libby warns, arching a pierced eyebrow at him like the mean girl in a ’90s teen drama. “I’m the one who’ll be kicking your ass six ways from Sunday if you hurt my boo here.”
“Oh my god.” I roll my eyes. “Donotcall me that. And ‘six ways from Sunday’? Who even are you right now?”
“Your ride-or-die. And you love me.” She smacks me on the arm, then returns her attention to Ollie. “He tries to act all cool and unaffected, but I’ve always known he was a closet romantic.”
“Take that back,” I gasp.
“Embrace it, babe.” She leans in to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Nice to meet you, Ollie.” And then she walks off, humming “Hit My Spot.”
“That’s cultural appropriation,” I call after her.
“No it’s not,” she shoots back, before disappearing into the crowd. I bury my face in Ollie’s chest.
“Sorry about that.”
“I like her,” he says, grabbing my hand and tugging me across the lawn like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I’m glad you have a friend who has your back. Speaking of—I called Ellis last night after you left.”
“At four in the morning?” Tearing my eyes from our clasped hands, I search his face for signs of regret. Maybe this whole kissing-in-the-quad-and-holding-hands thing is his way of letting me down easy?
“It’s two hours earlier in California,” he says with a dismissive wave. “You should have heard how excited he was.”
“Excited?”About…me?
“I had to talk him out of jumping on a plane this week and rushing here to meet you. I told him he’ll survive until Thanksgiving.”
What is happening right now?A little PDA is one thing, but I’m not the guy you bring home to meet the family. I’m the cheap hookup, the backup plan. The experiment that never goes anywhere.
“Honestly, I’m not sure I want you to meet him,” he continues, and the fledgling flutter in my chest dips back toward reality. “At least not until I’ve solidified my claim. He’s a lot hotter than I am, with all those acrobat muscles. Probably way better at blow jobs too.”
“Not possible,” I mutter, and he cuts his eyes to me, shyly pleased.
“I’d still like to get in a lot more practice before I introduce you to my sexy, very experienced little brother.”
“Oh.” I’m lightheaded—my blood fizzing like Champagne under my skin. The only thing grounding me is his hand, warm and solid in mine, and even that’s not enough to convince me this isn’t a dream. Maybe I crashed on the way home last night, dick-drunk and dazed, and I’m actually lying in a coma at Carbondale General right now. I drag him to a stop, searching his face.
“Fen?” His eyes are soft with concern but free of hesitation or regret, and he reaches out to brush a thumb along my jaw.
He’sreal.
And he might actually be mine—if I’m brave enough to claim him.
“I’m really,reallyhappy to see you,” I say. “Thank you for coming to find me.”
“You told me not to break your heart.” His smile is everything. “Pretty sure that means I have to stick around forever.”
CHAPTER 01: COLLIN
I’m so ready to get off this plane.
The four-hour delay really got this morning off to a rough start. Mainly because I refuse to cancel my stranger session later this afternoon. Now, instead of having time to go home to shower and change before the photoshoot, I have to rush straight there. Hopefully, I don’t look too rough for the guy who’ll be my partner for it.
Signing up to do a stranger session was a complete “fuck it” moment for me. My friend, Sarah, actually saw the callout for it and told me I had to apply. I’m a tiny bit of a hopeless romantic, so I figured, why not?
