Page 3 of The Very Naughty List

“I’m good, thanks,” I mutter. “LA was great. No albums yet. I’ve been, um, too busy.”

He lifts a hand to run his fingers through his blond hair, careful not to dishevel the perfectly styled pieces.

“Aw, come on Hailey. Too busy? Wasn’t becoming a singer pretty much your whole dream? I mean, aside from getting married.”

Ouch. Dick.

“I really am sorry about that, by the way,” he apologizes, grimacing slightly. “I didn’t mean to end things the way we did. I hope there are no hard feelings. I’m sure you’ll find someone someday too.”

The way Dylan can act both polite and condescending at the same time is a masterful art. He has a gift for making me feel small even when he’s technically apologizing.

I force a smile at him and try not to let my sass take over and ask him if he didn’t “mean” to plow my best friend on our wedding day. I heard the two of them wound up dating after that—him and Brielle—and I’m sure that they’re just perfect for each other.

“No hard feelings,” I grit out. “And getting married wasn’t one of my life goals.”

I incidentally glance down at his hand to make sure it doesn’t have a ring on it yet, and his hazel eyes catch me looking.

“Well, maybe once you finish up chasing after your singing fantasy, you’ll change your mind about settling down with someone,” he says, giving me a look that I think is meant to be encouraging. “I remember how you used to sing in the shower. Are you still working on your pitch?”

The more he talks, the more this conversation makes me feel tenser and shittier. I preferred the mild interrogation of the town’s busybodies inside the store to this. I feel like a deer in headlights, unable to toss back answers to Dylan without feeling like I’m shrinking right here on the cold sidewalk.

He used to always put down my singing. Toward the end of our relationship, I confined my singing to the shower under the cover of the background noise of running water because I doubted my talent so much. As much as I love to sing, it was hard not to internalize the constant criticisms about my pitch or whether or not I was in tune or enunciating my words enough.

He laughs abruptly as if he’s just thought of a joke, and it startles me.

“If you ever do find someone that can put up with all that noise, send them my way, and I’ll hook them up with some noise cancelling earbuds.”

Anger twists my stomach, bubbling up inside me. I absorbed these shitty comments from him for too long when we were together, brushing them off or trying to excuse them. But I don’thave to do that anymore. My tense jaw finally unlocks, and I open my mouth to say something, although I’m not sure what yet.

But before I can speak, a strong arm wraps around my shoulders.

I jerk a little at the unexpected contact and look up to see Reid Cooper, one of my older brother’s best friends, standing beside me.

What the hell?

Not only am I surprised to see Reid, I’m even more surprised that he has his arm around my shoulder. I expected to cross paths with him and his two brothers at some point, especially since the Cooper triplets have been Lucas’s best friends ever since we were kids. But his timing right now couldn’t have been more unexpected.

“There you are!” Reid pulls me closely against the side of his body, gazing down at me with a grin, as if he’s been looking for me.

I can feel the heat emanating from his rugged, muscular body, and suddenly the chill in the air seems like a distant memory. Dylan’s face twists in confusion as he glances between the two of us.

“Hello, Reid.” Dylan gives a little nod, subtly straightening his posture—probably trying to make himself look taller, since Reid is at least 6’3” and has several inches on him. “Here to pick up some more nails or something?”

His remark is clearly meant to be a bit of a dig, insulting Reid for his job as a carpenter who works with his hands instead of someone who’s never needed to lift a finger like Dylan. Although maybe if Dylan wasn’t so spoiled by his family’s wealth and had ever done a day of manual labor in his life, he’d be less wiry and a bit more chiseled like Reid. Not that I’m thinking about how my brother’s best friend’s body feels pressed against me right now.

Fuck, who am I kidding? I’m totally thinking about it.

Reid laughs, a deep sound that I can literally feel vibrating in his chest. “Nah. I get my carpentry supplies wholesale. The only thing that I’m here to pick up is my girlfriend.”

The look of shock on Dylan’s face doesn’t even come close to the shock thatIfeel at hearing Reid’s words.

I turn my face toward him, instantly getting lost in his blue-gray eyes and suddenly hyper aware of the way his body is almost possessively leaning into mine. My grip on my bag of supplies slips a little as I reach beneath it to pinch my thigh and make sure I’m not dreaming.

Nope, not dreaming. Very much awake.

Which means this is real life.

And gorgeous,off-limitsReid Cooper just called me his girlfriend.

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