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“Hank was asleep beside a lake cuddling a decorative swan.”

“We didn’t know that at the time.”

I butter my toast with unnecessary force.

We’re sitting in the resort restaurant the morning after the wedding, and I’ve had approximately four hours of sleep.

Not because I spent the night doing anything interesting.

Thanks to Lila.

“For the record,” she says, “I am deeply sorry I interrupted whatever was happening in that room.”

“Nothing was happening.”

Lila snorts. “My brother answered the door shirtless and looked like he was deciding where to hide my body.”

“Can we please not discuss this?”

“Were you finally going to sleep with him?”

“Lila.”

“That’s a yes.”

“I hate you.”

“You’ll get another chance.”

I glare at her.

She lifts her coffee. “Probably. Unless Ryder murders Uncle Hank first.”

I try to stay irritated. Then I remember Ryder outside my hotel room last night.

The first time I get you naked, librarian, I’m not squeezing it between a family emergency and hotel checkout.

Asshole.

Lila studies me. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You really like him.”

“Of course I like him.”

“No. You like him.”

“I’m twenty-eight. You don’t have to say it like we’re in middle school.”

“You’ve had a crush on Ryder since middle school.”

“I did not.”

“You walked into a kitchen cabinet staring at him.”

“I was a teenager.”