“No, you’re an idiot because you never made a move on her,” Jon points out. “Why now?”
“I’m afraid of losing her.” Just the thought of it has my head falling into my hands. “Any one of you could leave with her and I’d end up being the brothers’ best friend who just let it happen because I was too afraid to shoot my shot.”
Boone rumbles. “You got it bad.”
I lift my head. “Don’t you? Because every one of you should have it bad for Lyra. If I lose her, I want to make sure it’s to someone who loves her like she deserves to be loved. And if you’re not here for the right reasons…” I let the words trail off.
“Is that a threat?” Boone demands.
I’ve stood up to the king of Laandia as well as his sons, so I look the brooding bad boy straight in the eye. “It is. I won’t let anyone hurt her.”
The room is quiet for a moment. Then Jon gives a guffaw and rises to his feet. “Good. Feel like a game of pool?” And then he walks away, expecting me to follow.
Which I do, because anything is better than sitting there talking about my feelings.
Dylan, Leo and Boone come with me and the act of hitting small balls into pockets seems to put me in a better mood.
Possibly because I’m a good pool player.
“I wonder what they’re doing?” Leo finally asks in a morose voice.
“They’re having a good time,” I tell them, lining up my final shot. “Lyra doesn’t know how to do anything else.”
20
Lyra
T
henextday,thereare no dates.
The only thing on my schedule is a photo shoot at the hotel, which Camille loves. The show hasn’t been televised yet, but the traffic on the websites has already picked up, both for the hotel and the tourist site for Saint Pierre.
I want to help Camille promote her island, so I’m game to go along with everything the producers want to show off the beauty of Saint Pierre. And I’ll promote my season of The Suitorette, because other than Spencer’s surprise arrival, it’s been a lot of fun.
It was a great date with Basher yesterday, maybe one of the top ten best I’ve ever had. He ticks a lot of my boxes: interesting and exciting, we have lots in common, and he would understand my world and bring a new slant to it. He was all in for the parasailing and he’s the one who suggested we change up the date with the jam session. I got to play the drums with Denzel Duke. The entire day was amazing.
Kissing him should have been just as amazing.
And it’s not that Basher can’t kiss—the man has moves—but he can’t kissme.
Or rather, I didn’t want him to kiss me. And that’s a problem when you’re the Suitorette.
I blame Spencer.
Having him here is like being picked up in a bar while your ex watches. It’s awkward. Uncomfortable. And you really want the pickup to happen because that ex broke your heart, and he should be forced to watch while other men find you fascinating.
Not that Spencer is my ex. He’s not. Nothing has ever happened between us. There have been a few pecks over the years—one which was embarrassing because it happened in front of my brothers and his sisters during a game of Spin the Bottle when we were very young.
There had been a few almost-kisses over the years, but an almost isn’t a kiss. It just leaves you frustrated and with a heightened sense of anticipation about when will be the next time it almost happens.
It’s those almost-kisses that have haunted me over the years.
What Spencer and I have done is share. We’ve confided in each other about everything and anything. In a lot of ways, he’s just as much my best friend as Kate, and now Sophie.
But having a best friend like Spencer has led to years of confusion. I know he cares about me. I know he loves me in his own way, but why can’t heloveme?
I’ve wondered and wanted and hoped because Spencer Laz has always been my Prince Charming. Only, I’ve never told him becausebrother’s best friend. And because I honestly never thought he felt the same. Or could ever feel the same. He’s as thick as thieves with my brothers and there’s no room for me in that huddle.
