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My mouth dropped open.

“I was pissed when you kissed my cheek,” he continued. “So I did the same back to you, even though I really fucking wanted to kiss you.”

I groaned, letting my head fall back. “This situation is so messed up.”

My doorbell rang from inside the house, and Preston held up a finger before he shoved his beer at me and got up. He was inside before I had a chance to protest his beer-shoving.

Luckily for him, I knew that was the pizza.

Luckily for me, it gave me a minute to gather my thoughts.

Had I really just admitted to him that I’d had a crush on him for years? Yes, yes I had. He’d admitted he’d had a crush on me, too.

Damn it, I hated it when Reagan was right.

Now I’d have to admit to her.

The only thing worse than admitting to your partner you were wrong was admitting it to your best friend.

Especially since Reagan was a bragger. She’d never let us live this down. Neither would Ava—Jesus, now I’d have to marry Preston just to live out my life in peace.

Wait. That escalated quickly.

I put down his beer and switched it out for my wine glass. I took a huge gulp that made my cheeks blow out as I swilled it around my mouth before I swallowed.

It burned a little.

White wine was not meant to be swilled by the mouthful. Little sips, maybe, but not huge, gaping mouthfuls that were warm.

I stuck out my tongue with a, “Blech!”

Warm wine was not your friend. Or mine. Or anyones.

Preston rejoined me on the back porch, pizza boxes in hand. “You wanna eat these on the swing?”

“Do I want your pineapple to accidentally end up on my pizza? No.” I took the top box from him and moved toward the outdoor table that was the other side of the porch.

“That’s the pineapple one.”

I dropped that pizza box on the table so hard it was like I was shocked by lightning.

He laughed and set the other box down. “Kidding. This is mine.”

I glared at him. Defiling my pizza was one step too far. “You owe me for this at this point.”

“Because you dropped your own pizza?”

“No, because there’s fruit on your pizza.” It was the only excuse I had right now. “Also, are your backpack sandwiches still edible? Google says it’s the wrong season for Betty to be pregnant, but if you feed her a stale sandwich, I will be furious.”

Preston choked with the slice firmly in his mouth. Two pieces of pineapple fell off into the box, vindicating me a little. “Why don’t you eat a sandwich and find out?”

“Because I don’t run a Subway store,” I retorted. “You made the sandwiches. Fix it.”

“I’ve dated many people. I never thought I’d date raccoons, too.”

“Welcome to Halley Dawson’s residence. Some people come with crazy exes. Some have kids. Some have credit card debt. I have sandwich lovin’ raccoons.” I grinned and tore a bite off the slice of pizza I was holding.

“It could be worse. At least raccoons can’t send threatening text messages.”

“Exactly.” I half-smiled. “Now, have you checked your sandwiches?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN – PRESTON

Raccoons Love Pizza

Darkness fell swiftly.

It happened somewhere between my story about prom where the prom queen got punch thrown on her and Halley’s tale about the time Ava met a guy she’d flirted with online and he’d been a total catfish.

Now we were on the swing, having talked for hours. The pizza boxes were discarded on the table, and so was one bottle of wine and three empty beer cans.

I was in my spare room, if you believed her.

I did, for what it was worth. If she wanted me in the spare room, I’d take it. I’d learned so much from her tonight. She’d opened up to me in ways I’d never imagined.

She’d gotten personal somewhere between the pineapple pizza shaming.

I liked her more than ever. She was so fucking real. Seeing her in her own environment was a breath of fresh air. She was so comfortable here.

I’d wanted to kiss her at least ten times, but there was a brightness to her blue eyes when she looked out at the forest that lined her yard. There was a love there that I was sure I would never entirely understand, but it was her love.

It was a part of her.

And I wanted her.

All of her.

A shuffling came from beneath the porch. I froze, but Halley smiled.

No. It was beyond a smile. It was a fucking beam, the kind of smile that lit up every single one of her features.

She got up from her chair and looked at me. She pressed one finger against her red lips and whispered, “Can you get those sandwiches and put some in the bowl there?”

Dusk was well upon us, and it was honestly earlier than I’d expected the raccoons to come out, but I nodded and slipped inside.

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