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Two women approach us, take one long look at us, and turn to start racing in the other direction.

It happens when we’re together. No, I’m not offended.

I’d probably run too if I saw me and Lilah strolling up.

“Friend? As in a guy?”

I snort derisively. “You finally start getting laid, and now you assume everyone else is too.”

She waggles her eyebrows. “Beardless Tomahawk is a whole new world. Never know.”

A happy Lilah is a little more dangerous than a Lilah who isn’t getting laid. I’ve learned this recently…when she blew away half the Malones from the dock with one powerful water cannon she let her brothers use—her soon-to-be husband’s water cannon.

It really was hilarious, but that’s not the point.

Lilah and I are the only two female Wild Ones among the Malones and the Vincents. Our corners are the closest to each other. Obviously, I have to one up her.

I plan to get her back. Just as soon as I find something more awesome.

And yes, this is how we’re best friends.

“I didn’t get laid,” I finally say when she keeps staring at me expectantly.

She lets her shoulders hunch as we continue on the small trail that leads into the woods.

“You’ve been missing a lot these past four months. I’m a little surprised you wanted to take a walk,” she says hesitantly.

Yeah. Yeah.

I’ve been missing a lot in general. It’s only recently that I’ve decided to completely dive into my art and hide from the entire world until I paint him out of my system.

Liam Freaking Harper.

The bane of my existence.

The guy I see every time I break out my vibrator. His silky smooth face, devastating grin, and panty-melting body. Not to mention his voice, his words, his easy, laid-back attitude. And the fact he was a huge piece of my life in just a short period of time.

Yep. It’s bad.

“Been busy,” I say instead of spilling all that drivel.

“You only paint like that when you’re trying to escape something, so what gives?” Lilah asks, being more observant than usual.

“Nothing,” I lie with a shrug. “I also went to Seattle last month for two weeks for a showing there, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’ve been hiding.”

“Sure it does,” I say, smiling.

She gives me an I-don’t-believe-you-one-bit look.

“Fine. Fine,” I groan. I’ve avoided this conversation for a year. I think it’s time to talk about it and just move on.

So, with a long sigh, I start explaining. “There was a guy back in LA last year, and for some reason, I can’t seem to stop thinking about him. I mean, it’s been an entire year. I’m fairly positive I only think about him more with each passing day.”

I mutter something about being stupid, and she grins. “What happened?”

“His girlfriend showed up.”

“Ouch,” she says, wincing.

“Oh, no worries. They had an open relationship, so she informed me it wasn’t awkward for me to be there while she was. And that it was okay if I fucked him. And then he told her he forgot about her.”

Lilah’s eyes are beguiled even as her mouth is twisted in shock. The more I say, the more stupid I feel about the entire situation.

Why was I so naïve?

To her stunned expression, I say, “Yeah. Tell me about it. I never had sex with him—at least not in the traditional sense. He and I were so different that it was laughable. I knew this. I left before I invested any more of myself in him. Yet he’s still in my head, because for three weeks, I got to have a guy no one else in the world ever saw. I was going to stay a fourth week just to be with him. Even lied and told him I had a showcase that I didn’t have—since it was canceled—knowing he’d never know the truth.”

“What if he’d gone to that showcase?” she points out.

“He couldn’t. He was bedded down with his entire leg in a cast. His ribs were jacked up, and it was hard for him to use the crutches. He was in a lot of pain those first few weeks. I always had to be the nine to his six because of that.”

“What? I’m usually hard to confuse, Kylie,” Lilah says incredulously.

“Maybe it’s the six to his nine now that I think about—”

“That’s not the confusing part,” she states dryly.

I laugh under my breath. “We went skydiving, and his chute malfunctioned. He’s lucky he got it deployed long enough to break his fall and land in water. But he still hit hard enough to break his leg in a several places and had to have emergency surgery, and he also messed up some ribs. I had to pull him out before he drowned, and when I realized no one else was helping him through it, I stayed at his house until…the girlfriend. Yeah.”

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