prologue
ONE YEAR AGO
ROWAN
“Is, um, everything okay?”I ask hesitantly after my date growls.
She rolls her eyes, her fingers moving furiously over her phone screen. “Okay, sorry,” she replies, her tone shifting as soon as she turns the phone face down. “You were saying?”
“Actually, you were telling me about your tattoo …”
“Oh, right.” Loren smiles shyly, and despite my reservations about letting my best friend set me up with his little sister, I can’t help thinking she’s a pretty girl. There’s definitely a family resemblance, but it’s not as weird as I thought it would be.
“It’s fromThe Lord of the Rings, the Leaf of Lór—shit, sorry,” she curses quietly when her phone buzzes again. “Just … ignore that, please.”
I take it back—this datehasbeen relatively awkward, but it has less to do with Loren being Landry’s sister than it does with her being Blake the Snake’s ex.
Within minutes of our arrival, the designer suit-clad, former frat boy had sauntered over to subvert his claim over Loren under the guise of a polite introduction. I recognized the infamouslypromiscuous Bourgeois bro from Landry’s rants over the years, especially the accusations of Blake and his brother, JD, robbing Landry of his dad’s attention both on and off the football field. And based on the way Loren squirmed uncomfortably in her chair as Blake hinted about their ongoing physical relationship and openly flirted with her in front of me, I imagine she’s too busy worrying I’ll rat her out to her overprotective older brother to care whether I actually like her.
“So, yeah,” she says, helping herself to another French fry from my plate. “What were we talking about?”
I force a polite smile. “The series you loved enough to honor with a tattoo?”
She rubs her palm over the little green leaf on her ankle, her expression coy. “Landry mentioned you’re a pretty devout Catholic, so I get the feeling you could teach me a thing or two about classical literature and allegory.”
“You don’t grow up as a homeschooled Catholic and not study Tolkien,” I say with a shrug, though I can’t help thinking my religious background isn’t exactly a turn on for Loren, especially if she’s been collecting tattoos and getting romantically involved with guys like Blake.
“So, what’s your favorite Easter egg? Wait, let me guess …” She leans onto her elbows and taps a finger over her lips, and I force myself to look away before my subconscious gets any funny ideas. “Lembas bread and the Eucharist? No, you’re a ‘Gandalf the White as the Resurrected Jesus’ kind of guy, aren’t you?”
“Those are good ones, but I have a special appreciation for the obscure, like Lady Galadriel gifting the fellowship with cloaks in the same way the Blessed Virgin Mary conferred the brown scapular to St. Simon Stock, and all the times Aragorn acts as a priest and mimics the sacraments.”
“Hmm,” she hums, leaning back to size me up. “Landry forgot to mention you had a knack for dirty talk.”
I blink a few times before I realize she’s kidding. “He did say we should go out because, and I quote, ‘she’s almost as nerdy as you.’ ”
Loren snorts out a laugh. “Funny, he told me the same thing.”
But the true motivation behind Landry’s setup is clear now. He didn’t send me on this date with his sister because he thinks we’re a perfect match or because he trusts me. Landry doesn’t see me as a threat at all, because he knows I’m not capable of the things guys like him and Blake Bourgeois do on the regular.
What he didn’t account for, however, is Loren entertaining the kind of men who are only interested in her for one thing. And even if she hadn’t been so easily distracted tonight, it’s only a matter of time before she picks up on my strict celibacy policy and gives me the “you’re too nice” speech.
I glance up when I hear a throat clearing.
“I hope you’ve saved room for dessert,” our waiter cuts in to say. “Compliments of your, um,very close friend.” He sets a chocolate-heavy dish onto the table as he gestures toward Blake, who’s watching us carefully with a smug grin.
“Oh my gosh, is this …ugh, peanut butter? My favorite,” Loren gushes, practically moaning at the sight of it. But her reaction isn’t what has me on high alert.
“Wait,” I blurt out, scooting my chair back instinctively. “Did you say peanut butter?”
Loren pouts. “Okay, hear me out, though. I know it seems weird to accept a gift from another man, but I think he’d actually get off on us sending it back. So we might as well enjoy it, right? In fact, let’s make him watch while we?—”
“No!” I practically yell, and she winces at my stern tone. “I’m allergic. Like,severelyallergic,” I explain, holding my hands up. Her shoulders droop, and I instantly feel guilty. “But, I mean, if you really want to enjoy your dessert, I can …” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder, and her frown grows deeper.
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” she says quickly before adding, “Thanks, anyway,” for the waiter.
“Maybe you could box it up for the lady?” I ask as I hand him my credit card.
“Yes, sir. Of course,” he replies deferentially before he scurries away.
