Page 161 of Brazen Mistakes

And why do I need a buzz at all?

I swallow down my thoughts, trying to breathe through the tingling in my chest. “Thanks, RJ. For keeping me safe.”

He doesn’t answer, just keeps driving, and the tiara hidden beneath my fingers burns with equal parts shame and excitement.

Doesn’t a princess deserve a crown? She might not be my princess, but it’ll look amazing, sparkling against her dark hair. I’m sure I’ll be able to convince Walker that it was worth the risk.

But glancing at RJ, it’s clear to see I won’t win him over. And Trips is all about security, not risk. If it weren’t for his family, he’d probably be a librarian or something, shushing kids for screaming and walking too loud.

Two vs. two.

Will Clara think it’s worth it? Should I even tell her how I got it? And how long will I have to hide it before I give it to her?

Waiting is not my forte.

Chapter 57

Clara

Ihear Summer’s car pull up long before she rings the bell, but I don’t open the door.

Nope.

I’m digging through my newly washed but not yet folded clothes, trying to figure out what you’re supposed to wear to a spa day with an actual fashionista ice queen. All I need is an Anna dress and I can be her plucky little sister.

When Trips brings her back, it’s almost anticlimactic to find that she’s wearing jeans and a zip-up sweatshirt. There’s even a hint of a smile on her face. “Hey,” she says, stopping at the threshold, taking in my thrifted and eclectic decor, Trips glowering behind her.

“Come in so I can change,” I say, surprised by my directness. What is it about getting mostly naked with someone that lets you skip pleasantries?

Summer doesn’t hesitate to turn and close the door in Trips’ face, turning back with a sparkle in her eyes, and for the first time, I wonder if maybe wecouldbe friends.

It’s almost like she’s spent so long pretending to be an ice princess that she’s forgotten how to play. And if that isn’t a warning about my path, well, I must be stuck staring in the wrong direction.

Shaking it off, I point at my pile of clothes. “Does it matter what I wear?”

She runs a finger along the velvet of one of my pink chairs. “No, not where I’m taking you. But if you ever end up getting ready for a Westerhouse event on the Westside, call me. We wouldn’t want anyone to gossip about how unkempt you were.”

“Got it. I can just put on whatever?”

“Yup. Just make sure it doesn’t go over your head.”

“Now that I can do.”

Summer’s lips twist a little higher, and she perches on the chair, crossing one leg over the other like she’s in a silk gown instead of denim. Ignoring her, I change into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved button-up, piling my hair into a knot on top of my head and calling it good. “Do I pass inspection?” I ask.

With the barest nod, she gets up, leading me to her car.

This one is a yellow convertible, which is wholly impractical, and I can’t help but admire her dedication to driving whatever the hell she wants.

Another hint that Summer is more than what she presents to the world. And she’s making me curious about her, which I kind of hate.

Almost, but not actually. I used to have entire teams of female friends. Bryce fucked that up. I’m not letting him win.

RJ chases us out of the house, pulling me aside. “Keep your eyes open, sugar. Your phone should alert you, but Bryce could watch from a distance.”

“I’ll stick with my buddy.”

“No offense, but Summer isn’t the bodyguard I’d hope for.”

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