Yours Truly Page 2

  Harmony said we’d probably known each other in another lifetime. I tried not to roll my eyes when she said things like that.

  It wasn’t always easy.

  The flashing lights of an airplane caught my attention, its steady movement across the night sky looking so unnatural against the background of magnificence that was space.

  Josh seemed lost in thought, so when he spoke, it surprised me. “You could always give it a try,” he said. “Think about it like a science experiment. See if it makes a difference. Meanwhile, you’d be giving the rest of us a chance.”

  Scoffing, I said, “Right. Like you even WANT a chance. You seem to be doing just fine without me.”

  “But what if I’m just filling the meaningless days until you come to your senses and realize you’re in love with me?” He turned and made puppy-dog eyes at me.

  Reaching over to slug him, I laughed. “Shut up. You sound like one of my books.”

  He grinned, looking devilish and delicious all at the same time. I sent up a little thanks that I’d taken care of business before coming up here…because DAMN. Even though I didn’t think about him that way, a girl kinda had to appreciate a hot guy when she was looking at him.

  “Actually,” he said, his grin getting deeper, “you happen to be my favorite author.”

  I almost dropped my beer.

  “You. Did. Not.” But even before I got all three words out he was nodding gleefully.

  He’d read my books?

  My mouth hung open in horror as my mind flitted through all the love scenes I’d written, some of which he’d now read and…oh dear god. I could feel the color start to concentrate in my cheeks, warmth spreading up my neck.

  He tilted his head back as he took a long drink, then set his bottle down on the floor. “I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I mean, I read your column every month, why not one of your books?”

  Okay, he had a point there. And, if I chose to look at it differently, it was kind of sweet of him to care enough to read a genre he’d probably never had any interest in. Unless of course…

  “Wait,” I said, “you’re not a closet romance reader, are you?” I cackled at the look on his face—all his gears were turning, trying to crank out some witty response. I loved that look. “Tell me the truth, Josh. It’s okay. I won’t tell MANY people.”

  “Ah, you found me out. I love all the great romance writers.” He sighed dramatically. “Especially the classics like…uh…Jane Eyre, and…”

  “Actually, that’s the name of a book.”

  His brow wrinkled. “Are you sure? I thought she was a writer.”

  “Charlotte Brontë wrote it. You’re thinking of Jane Austen.”

  “That’s her.” He slapped one hand down on the arm of his chair, making the metal rattle a bit. “I’m a huge fan. Clearly. She’s my favorite.” He winked at me. “After you, of course.”

  I was laughing. “Of course. Which of hers do you like best?”

  A smile threatened and he bit it back as his mind whirled. “The one with the guy…and the girl…and there’s some kind of misunderstanding because there’s always some kind of misunderstanding.”

  “This is true, there is,” I said. “You must be talking about Wuthering Heights. With Catherine and Heathcliff?”

  He pointed at me, nodding. “That’s the one.”

  “That’s not a Jane Austen novel. It’s by Emily Brontë.”

  “You just said her name was Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte was her sister.”

  “God,” he said, raising his hands in the air, palms out. “Okay, I give up. Why do you writers have to make everything so complicated?”

  “It’s what we do.” I shook my head, grinning at him. “You’re such a goofball. I still can’t believe you read one of my books.”

  “What? It was good.” He shrugged. “It’s not my usual thing, but I really enjoyed it. Gave me a little glimpse inside your mind.”

  I stared at him, trying to decide whether he was being sincere or making fun of me. But I think he really meant it. That kind of blew me away, and I wasn’t sure what to say.

  So I didn’t. I just waved off the compliment like I usually did. Taking compliments was not exactly my forté.

  “Tell me something real,” I said, changing the subject. “I’m in a reading slump. What have you read lately that was really good?”

  “You mean other than your books?”

  “Well, I mean, those are a GIVEN.” Then I sighed sadly. “But, unfortunately, I’ve already read them.”

  “True.” He looked thoughtful. “What are you in the mood for?”

  “Something different. And it has to be well written—I’m all for a good story, but the language has to sing.”

  “You writers are so hard to please.”

  “You have NO idea.”

  He was silent for a few minutes, thinking. “You like fantasy?”

  “Who doesn’t?” I held up one hand and closed my eyes. “I have this one fantasy in particular, that’s my favorite.” When I opened my eyes, he was watching me with wide, expectant eyes. I scrunched up my face like I was confused and tried really hard not to laugh. “Or did you mean the genre?”

  He shook his head. “No, I want to hear more about this fantasy of yours. Does it, by any chance, involve a carpenter?”

  “It does now.” A slow smile spread across my face as my mind started spinning. “He wears a tool belt…and nothing else.”

  He swallowed and raised one suggestive eyebrow. “I have a tool belt.”

  “Every carpenter worth his hard wood should.”

  “Only problem,” he said, “is it’s at my shop.”

  Sighing deeply with mock-regret, I said, “Then I suppose it’ll just have to remain a fantasy. I guess we’ll just have to stick to books.”

  He laughed. “In that case, have you read Terry Pratchett?”

  “Nope.” Fantasy was actually one of my favorite genres, and I hadn’t read any for quite a while. It sounded perfect.

  “Start with Guards! Guards! It’s brilliant and hysterical.”

  “Suh-WOON,” I said. “Sold!” And I pulled my phone out to make a little note to look up the book later. “You sure know how to sweep a booknerd off her feet, Josh.”

  The bottle poised at his lips, he said, “Never claimed I didn’t.”

  A text popped up while I was typing.

  SUMMER: What are you doing right now? (If you notice, I didn’t say WHO since you waged the Trojan war earlier. And lost.)

  ME: SO sweet of you. I’m drinking on the roof.

  SUMMER: HIIIIIIII, JOSH!

  “Summer says hi.”

  “Hi, Summer.” Josh leaned his head back and stared up at the sky again.

  ME: You nearby? Wanna come up?

  SUMMER: Noooo. Went to see a friend’s show, and am out with all these hot actors now. Wanna come play? Maybe even get lucky after all? Unless you’re already getting lucky with Josh…

  ME: FUNNY. And you know that’s not a possibility. I like him too much.

  SUMMER: To subject him to sex with you? How bad ARE you in bed?

  I laughed out loud and Josh glanced over at me. I just shook my head, sending up a little thanks that he couldn’t see my phone screen from where he was sitting.

  ME: Shut up.

  SUMMER: I’m just saying it seems you’ve had PLENTY of practice if your columns are to be believed…and if your skills are lacking…

  ME: I’m MAGNIFICENT, okay?

  SUMMER: THAT’s my girl! You’re too much for him to handle, right?

  ME: Something like that.

  SUMMER: So, you coming out or what?

  I glanced at Josh next to me, silently studying the stars again, and realized I had no desire whatsoever to be anywhere else.

  ME: Thanks, but I’m gonna stay here.

  SUMMER: Boo. But I understand. I mean, you’re sitting next to Hot Neighbor Guy. I’d stay put, too.

  ME: See y
ou tomorrow night?

  SUMMER: You know it. Love you!

  “Summer’s in town?” Josh said as I slid my phone back into my pocket.

  “For a few days. Bliss, too.”

  “Ah, The Girls are together again.”

  “And it doesn’t happen NEARLY enough. I miss the good old days when we all lived here. It kinda sucks having Summer on the West Coast and Bliss always Somewhere Else in the world.”

  “At least they come back regularly.”

  “True.” I sighed and looked at him. “But it’s not the same.”

  “Nothing ever is.”

  “Right? I guess that’s life.” I shifted in my seat, feeling it wobble under my weight. We’d brought these chairs up here a couple of years ago—the kind with the ugly striped fabric wrapped over metal rods—and we were going to have to buy new ones soon. Maybe I’d do that next week. Get nicer ones this time as a little surprise for Josh. Ooh, maybe wooden Adirondack chairs. Those would be perfect. Of course, Josh could probably make them himself…which reminded me. “You know what else it is?”

  “What’s that?” Josh’s eyes were closed, and the breeze lifted the ends of his hair. Little flame-red tendrils of my hair tickled my face, and I tucked them behind my ears again.

  “Life’s a broken chair that won’t stay fixed no matter how many times I glue it.”

  “You want me to take a look?” He stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankle. “I can fix it for you, save you any more hassle.”

  “I don’t need saving,” I said. “But I’d love it if you’d show me how to fix it so I can do it myself.”

  “Even better.” He smiled, his eyes still closed. “I’ll have to grab some stuff from my shop. Give me a couple of days?”

  “Of course. Whenever you get to it. You know where I live.” The night had cooled considerably, and the wind was sending goosebumps skittering over my skin. I stood up, grabbed our empty bottles, and then reached out to squeeze his hand. “I’m calling it a night. See you tomorrow?”

  “Always,” he said, his warm fingers grasping mine. He slid his thumb over the back of my hand, still holding on even as I moved toward the door. “Oh, and Will?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad things didn’t work out with the guy tonight.”

  I cocked my head to the side, slightly bemused. “Well, that makes one of us.”

  Though that little voice inside said, No, that makes two of us. Because if my date had worked out, I wouldn’t have gotten to spend the evening with Josh.

  three

  “Willow Truly, get your ass over here right now!” Lucky waved as I slowly threaded my way through the throngs of people crowding the restaurant’s bar, scouting out tonight’s prospects.

  The Girls were all here—Ever Vaughn, Lucky Noble, Bliss Sullivan, Summer St. Claire, and Harmony Daniels. The six of us were like stars in a constellation. Together we were something greater and more beautiful than we were on our own. We fit brilliantly together even though we were light years away from each other in personality and life choices.

  I honestly couldn’t imagine my life without them. I never wanted to.

  These girls were my chosen family, and I could feel my shoulders relax just at the sight of them. Being all together always made me feel better. Grounded. Recharged. We made a point of getting together on a regular basis, but as we each got busier in our careers it became harder to pull off. Thank god it was important to all of us.

  Who needed a man when you had girlfriends like these?

  Not this girl.

  “You guys!” I threw my arms around my best friends and almost toppled them to the floor. Laughing, we let go and gave each other the once-over. “You all look amazing…which means I’m going to have to work extra hard to get any guy’s attention tonight.”

  “Shut up,” Summer said. “You look gorgeous and you know it.”

  It was true. My thick, auburn hair hung silky straight—and as long as it didn’t rain tonight, it would stay that way. In hopes of meeting my next victim—I mean, date—I was wearing my favorite forest green, slinky dress. No sense in letting a good bar scene go to waste.

  And yes, I did approach my job with a certain expectation—that the guy would screw up in some way, eventually show his true assholic colors. Could I help it if they never disappointed on that front? Some took longer than others, but I’d come to realize it was inevitable.

  Not that I didn’t hope for more. There was a small part of me that did—that little girl who’d fallen in love with fairytales at five years old, she was the one who always had a smidgen of hope. Of course, she’d also grown up to realize that fairytales didn’t exist in real life and that she’d be better off relying on herself than waiting for some mythical Prince Charming to come save her.

  She had to make her own Happily Ever After.

  Experience didn’t lie. But men sure as hell did.

  I let my eyes scan the bar in case anyone stood out, but got distracted by the click of Bliss’s camera. That girl never went anywhere without it. As she swung the lens toward Summer—who totally struck a pose, then stuck her tongue out at the camera—I noticed a leather string circling her neck with a small white shell hanging from it like a pendant.

  “I’m LOVING this.” I reached over, fingering the shell which felt water-smooth in my hand. “Is it new?”

  “A gift.” She nodded, lowering her camera, the hint of a blush blooming on her fair face.

  “Oooh,” Summer said, leaning forward. “Who is he?”

  “Who said he was a he?”

  Lucky laughed. “You just did. Now stop taking pics and spill.”

  Bliss sighed in exasperation, but was clearly resigned to her fate. She knew she wasn’t getting off that easy with ANY of us. She lowered her camera and set it on the table.

  “He’s no one,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Is he famous?” Harmony tucked a honey gold wave behind her ear, her brown eyes dancing. “Is that why you don’t want to tell us? Oh my god…is it Bono? Your aura has been glowing for months, ever since you did that photo shoot.”

  “It’s NOT Bono. Besides, he’s been married forever.”

  “And OLD.” Ever shuddered.

  “He’s not THAT old.” Bliss smacked her shoulder. “And, oh my god, is he sexy when he sings.”

  “Agreed,” Ever said, then shook her head. “But still, it’s like dating your father. Or one of his old-man friends.”

  “EW.” All of us shuddered this time. Lucky, Ever, Harmony, and Summer each took a swig of their drinks as if rinsing out the nasty imaginary taste of old man.

  Bliss held up her hands. “I’m not talking about it, you guys. Not yet.” She picked her camera back up.

  “But when you’re ready?” I said.

  “You guys will be the first to know. As always.” She pointed the lens at me, focused, then said, “Now enough about me, tell us about the guy last night.”

  I smirked at her. Click. Click. Click.

  “You sure you don’t just want to wait and read about it? Don’t you want to spend more time imagining sex with old men?”

  An exasperated and disgusted chorus of “WILL!” rang out from the rest of them as they sat back down. The waitress appeared next to me and set down a Sam Adams and a glass at the only empty spot at the table.

  I sank into the booth, sliding onto the black leather seat. “Haven’t you guys ever heard of delayed gratification?” I picked up the frosty bottle and started pouring the liquid amber down the side of the glass. “It makes everything BETTER.”

  “That’s just something you say to make people feel better when they have to wait for something,” Lucky said, smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of her silky, sapphire dress. The combination of her toasted-tan skin and deep green eyes made her look like a walking ad for an exotic getaway—the perfect blend of sun, surf, and endless sky. “Being your friends, we DON’T have to wait. So spill.”

  Instead, I
took a grateful sip of my beer. They groaned in unison when I closed my eyes, unspeaking, like I was relishing the taste, and then started to lift the glass again. But I just laughed, put the glass back down in front of me, and filled them in on ALL the details.

  Fifteen minutes later, they were laughing so loud, people at other tables were turning to look at us.

  “Oh, my god,” Ever said, her ocean-blue eyes wide. “Just when you think they can’t sink any lower.”

  “Right?” I shook my head. “Can I pick ‘em or can I pick ‘em?”

  “Come on, Will,” Harmony said. “You’re not exactly looking for the good ones.”

  “It’s because they don’t exist.”

  The Girls each raised an eyebrow.

  “Seriously, you guys,” I said, then turned to Lucky since hers was the heart most recently broken. “You still think good ones are out there after everything you’ve been through? After Ben?”

  “Hold on.” Summer held up her hands, palms out, mock-confusion on her gorgeous face. “I thought we agreed his name is Fuckwad.”

  Lucky ran her fingers along the rim of her glass. “Okay, Ben wasn’t the best—”

  “Wasn’t the BEST? He was the WORST guy I’ve ever written about. He not only went over to the dark side, he’s freaking Emperor Palpatine.”

  “Okay, see you’ve lost me now that you’re speaking geek.” Lucky’s hair swayed back and forth around her shoulders as she shook her head.

  “Don’t worry, honey.” Bliss patted my hand. “I understood you just fine.”

  Lucky looked at me. “But they’re not all Bens.”

  “Some of them are Austin,” Ever said, her head tilted to one side, a dreamy look on her face. Recently married to Lucky’s brother, Austin, she was clearly basking in that newlywed afterglow.

  “Okay…BESIDES Austin,” I said. “He’s the only one.” But as I really took a good look at her, there was something more than just the honeymoon going on. She always looked good—and tonight was no exception. Her light brown hair fell over her shoulders. Her gorgeous lilac pencil dress hugged her curves perfectly. But she’d never glowed like this before. She was radiant in a way I’d never seen. The girl was lit, and it had nothing to do with her mojito. She couldn’t be— “Oh my god, are you pregnant?”