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Chapter One
Kendall
I don’t usually make wishes on stars, but looking up into the late-night June sky, I close my eyes and think, I want to wake up every morning, full of energy and so excited for the day that I don’t need coffee. Sounds simple enough, but simple and easy are two very different things. I could pretend law school is what I want and spend the summer enjoying carefree days until my house-sitting gig is up and I head to the University of Chicago for another three years of education, but that would be like a giraffe impersonating a koala bear. Wrong.
Opening my eyes, I tug on Snowflake’s leash and continue down the front walkway of my aunt and uncle’s Hollywood Hills home for a quick stroll before bedtime. “It’s not like it will kill me to follow in my dad’s footsteps,” I say aloud. “But I want to love what I do, not settle. For a long time, I wanted to be an actress. Now, I don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life, but I’ve got the summer to figure it out.” I drag in a deep breath, the scent of jasmine and roses filling my nose. “God, I love the smells here. I’m not going to miss the car fumes and hot asphalt of New York. The hot dogs, though, those I’ll miss.”
I’m talking to a dog.
Don’t judge.
Snowflake is the cutest furball on the planet, but do not say it to her face, no matter how adorable she looks prancing across the grass on her short little legs, trying to act all badass. She’s a Pomeranian who thinks she’s a pit bull. In her tiny little mind she’s the alpha, and she will puff herself up and cute you to death with an angry dance and a frenzy of high-pitched barks to prove it. As far as I know, Aunt Sally is the only one who can love on her without unleashing the full force of her Pomeranian fury. The rest of us she merely tolerates. But tonight I choose to take her quiet disregard as a sign of respect. She’s deigning to be a good listener.
As soon as we hit the sidewalk she selects a nice patch of grass to do her business. “Good girl,” I say. She lifts her snout and looks at me like she already knows this. I laugh. It’s been a couple of years since my last visit, and she hasn’t changed a bit. The pet sitter did warn me she’s been feistier than normal but attributes it to missing my aunt and uncle and said I could call her if I had any problems.
I follow Snowflake’s lead up the street, the moon smiling down on us. Compared to my apartment in New York City, it’s downright tranquil here. Earlier, music blasted from the house next door, f-bombs dropping repeatedly in many of the songs. My aunt briefly mentioned her next door neighbor, “Vaughn.” She texted to say that if I needed anything, he could help, and included his phone number. From the music selection, I’m guessing he’s closer to my age than hers.
The noise level has since subsided, but lights shine brightly. Shadowy movement passes beyond the windows. There are definitely people inside. Music suddenly shatters the quiet, the latest Maroon 5 song blaring through the wide open front door. Inexplicably, Snowflake chooses that moment to bark like someone yelled “dog party!” and run toward the neighbor’s driveway. I tug on her leash because I’m not one to trespass, but she’s crazy for something and isn’t about to back off. Then I realize someone’s walking down the dark driveway. Someone tall, broad-shouldered, and ambling with a loose-limbed grace that suggests he thinks he has the driveway to himself. Whoever he is, Snowflake can’t wait to greet him.
I’m about to call out hello when an engine revs. Red taillights blaze from the top of the driveway, and a vehicle jerks like the driver forgot to release the brake. Oh crap.
The guy stops and turns in slow motion as an SUV rolls down the drive. I’m close enough now to hear his, “Oh fuck no,” as the car lurches.
He sprints to the center of the driveway and faces the car like he’s the Hulk and can stop two tons of metal momentum with his bare hands. What is he thinking?
“Stay,” I command Snowflake and run up the driveway. “Hey!” I shout.
The guy turns around and oh my God, the car suddenly picks up speed and heads straight for him. “Look out!”
He doesn’t listen, his eyes locked on mine instead. In a burst of super-human strength I didn’t know I had, I tackle him and fling us to the side of the concrete before he’s roadkill.
“What the—” he mumbles then oomphs as we hit the ground. Lucky for me, I’m sprawled on top of him, a slight sting in my shoulder from our initial landing.
Icy fear grips me as I look down the drive, praying Snowflake has stayed put. She has, but being the badass that she is, she’s barking for the driver to get out of the vehicle and keep all hands where she can see them. Thankfully, the SUV has stopped, its back end in the thick green bushes flanking the entrance to the driveway.
A tall blond woman in a short blue dress stumbles out of the car, laughing her head off like she didn’t almost crash into a human being. “Jesus, Vaughn, your ride is as fucked up as you are.” More laughter comes from a second woman climbing out of the passenger seat. Snowflake growls.
Beneath me a low voice mutters, “It is now.”
I turn back to my aunt’s neighbor. A small corner of my mind registers the sound of high heels c
licking up the drive and Snowflake’s bossy bark telling those girls where to go and how to get there, but the rest of me is totally focused on the man beneath me. Slammed against his warm, hard body I feel small, his broad shoulders and chest cushioning my fall. My gaze slides to defined biceps straining against his short sleeves. His masculine scent is clean, with a hint of something spicy. Whatever it is, it puts sexy ideas in my head. I let out a deep breath, grateful he’s still in one piece. My heart stops trying to punch its way out of my chest.
Then I raise my eyes to his face, and holy crap. He’s beautiful. The face of a model beautiful. Wait. I think he is a model. Like of the gigantic Times Square billboard variety. His light brown hair is a little longer now, but there’s no mistaking that square jaw and those dark, olive green, come-closer-if-you-dare eyes.
A slow grin takes over his very nice mouth, making my cheeks warm.
He blinks like I’ve all of a sudden gone out of focus. “Thanks for saving my life, angel,” he slurs. “Are you okay?” The smell of alcohol hits my nose, and my stomach pitches.
I scramble off him. “No problem, and I’m fine.”
Maintaining eye contact, I put a hand out to help him up. Adrenaline continues to fizz through my system. I can’t believe what almost happened.
His warm palm connects with mine, and I brace to counterbalance his weight, but he gets to his feet under his own power, teetering just once before gaining his footing and standing upright.
“I hope she wasn’t your ride,” I deadpan.
Vaughn cracks up like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. His laugh is contagious, and I’m laughing with him in seconds. It’s that or digest the seriousness of what just happened. Snowflake’s bark breaks our hysterics. She runs to me.
Make that him.
I watch as he scoops her up and she licks his face like he’s wearing bacon-flavored cologne. “How’s my girl? How’s my pretty girl?” he murmurs. “Did you chase Becca back inside the house?” Snow can’t get enough of him. Little dog legs run in the air as he lowers her to the ground. When he straightens, his eyes wander down my body and on the return get stuck at my chest. I glance at my thin white Winnie the Pooh tank and red shorts and cross my arms to block his notice. I didn’t think I’d run into anybody, so I didn’t bother to put on a robe. “Nice outfit,” he says, his gaze finding mine again.
That’s my cue to hurry home. I’ve been around my share of hot, complimentary guys. NYU was full of them. But this handsome stranger makes me more nervous than all of them put together. I grab Snowflake’s leash. “Thanks. See ya.”
Without a word, he walks with me, his feet bare, his steps not exactly steady.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “Shouldn’t you go make up with your girlfriend?”
