Is Chase Collins as dreamy as ever? Check.
Is the universe impossibly unfair for having him appear at this very moment? Check.
If my life were a movie, it would be a romantic comedy of errors.
I make it a habit to laugh so I don’t cry.
But this moment results in a laugh-cry hybrid of me choking back surprise, which nearly turns into a sob. Social circuit board fried, the lady robot is going haywire.
If I could text Phoebe right now, it would say SOS—social operating system shutdown imminent. Instead, breaking all the rules I work hard to follow, I stand there frozen, whisper screaming like a weirdo.
9
CHASE
I’d recognize the back—and front—of Pippa Thompson anywhere, and it isn’t because she once sat in a plate of spaghetti with tomato sauce or had melted chocolate in her back pocket during a trip to the botanical gardens back in high school.
I’m stunned stupid all over again because of the way her brown hair swishes and occasionally teases the perfect curve of her neck, the way her shoulders press back with confidence, and how the slight tilt of her head suggests perpetual curiosity about the world around her.
Okay, I’ll stop now because if the guys were here and had mind-reading powers, they’d question whether I’m fit to lead the team to another Super Bowl win.
However, I can’t deny that those are but some of the many things I’ve always liked about Pippa. She was always different from other girls—especially Marlow. Looking back, how do I put this mildly, Marlow had an obsession and the object of it was me. I always thought of her as Mean Marlow. I was a fan of pranks, but not when they were mean-spirited. Marlow wasn’t above giving teachers rotten apples so they’d get sick and haveto cancel class or humiliate a peer with unwrapped chocolate in their back pocket. I’ve always been certain it was her who did it, but Freddie thought it was funny. Regrettably, I went along with it.
“Pizza,” I murmur before I can stop myself.
Pippa’s face ripples with confusion before crumbling. She rushes away from the circle of women before I can correct myself.
“Don’t you mean Pippa?” Marlow says with distaste and confirmingPizza’sidentity even though she’s now lost in the crowd. “Figures you wouldn’t remember a nobody like her.”
“Haven’t seen her in—” I’m short on words and dismiss Marlow’s ugly ones.
“Chase, darling, it truly has been so long,” she says, with arms outstretched for a hug.
Caught between not wanting to embrace Marlow but knowing better than to be rude, the hug I offer is stiff as I scan the crowd for Pippa.
“We were just talking about you.” Marlow’s lips pooch suggestively.
“I heard,” I murmur.
The other women giggle in a flirtatious way. I’m aware that I should be flattered, but I’m not interested in anything other than knowing why Pippa reacted like that and then ran away. Although it probably has something to do with her confession about having a crush on me in high school and then realizing I stood right behind her.
This makes for an interesting twist to the evening. One, I should not be entertaining, all things considered—all things being Pippa is my best friend Freddie’s sister, making her forbidden.
I struggle between excusing myself to find Pippa and following the bro code. Marlow decides for me. Like a boaconstrictor, she grips my forearm. The more I resist, the tighter she clutches me with pointy artificial witch nails.
If I were Declan or Wolf, I wouldn’t think twice about going my own way, even if it caused a scene or made the ladies chatter with disapproval. But my parents are in attendance, my mother wanted me here, and I’m already in hot water. And yes, a grown man—at least this grown man—still honors his parents.
“What are the odds of seeing you here?” Marlow asks with a breathy giggle.
Considering Marlow seems to turn up at any event my parents invite me to, the odds are high. All the same, I’m distracted and the answer she gets is a shrug as I continue to peer around the room for Pippa. But the woman in the yellow gown with big brown eyes is nowhere to be seen.
After meeting Abigail and her friends, I endure polite chatter before breaking away when a server offers refreshments. Several guests greet me, interrupting my progress until, like I’m making a run with the ball, I stride through with purpose so I don’t get sidelined again. I check the foyer, the bathroom, and several other spaces with open doors before we’re called to the dining room.
Over the years, I’ve wanted to apologize to Pippa, but she must’ve changed her email—especially after the one she accidentally sent that prompted the sponge cake thing that had unintentionally turned into a fiasco.
It’s not like I could’ve asked Freddie for her updated info. As far as he was concerned, it was okay for me to prank her, but definitely not okay for me to show any interest—romantic or otherwise. That would’ve been grounds for dismissal and I didn’t want to lose a friend.
Nor did I mean to hurt Pippa’s feelings.
