Page 2 of Wildly Inappropriate

“I think you’re overselling yourself a bit.”

“Romance readers are taking over the book market. Almost half of romance readers finish a novel within a week. Wearethe big hitters in publishing these days.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“Takes one to know one,” she shoots back like a child.

I finish my scotch, signaling for another. I don’t typically drink more than one on the night before I have to golf, but for some reason, possibly self-flagellation, I’m not ready to call it a night yet either. My group’s tee time is late enough tomorrow that I should be okay with just one more drink.

“So, update on Project Don’t-Let-My-Brother-Get-Back-Together-with-Alexis: I met Bryn today,” Lila says. I know most people would say she looks excited, but I know better. She’s smug about meeting her before me.

“I think we need to workshop that project name a bit more,” I reply. “Jameo mentioned Bryn might be here. I’m glad she came.” I intentionally don’t ask her anything more, knowing she’s dying to tell me.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I think of her?”

I sigh, pretending not to care. “I suppose. What did you think?”

“Oh, she seems awesome. We just finished having dinner together.”

Lila dives into the story about meeting Bryn on the course today while following Jameson’s group, and I try to ignore the prick of jealousy that hits me at her words. Jameson was out with his sister and girlfriend while I sat here alone at a bar. Not that I couldn’t have my pick of women. I’m a professional golfer and have been successful for several years now. I have women I can call in all the major cities if I’m interested in a night of fun. Unfortunately, fun just isn’t doing it for me anymore. Instead of leaving me satisfied, my last few hookups have left me feeling empty. I blame these damn romance books Lila recommended. Fuck. I wonder if she knew this would happen and did it on purpose. I wouldn’t put it past her.

Lila orders another drink as well, definitely not limiting herself to two tonight. Though I suppose that’s fair. She doesn’t have anything to do besides watch golf all weekend and then head back to Denver for her classes on Monday. She’s 24. Why shouldn’t she get drunk on a Thursday night in Vegas?

Unfortunately, I’m annoyed to find that drunk Lila is a lot more fun than the Lila I’m usually dealing with.

“You’re a lot more fun when you’re not around Jameson,” she says, mirroring my sentiments.

“I’m fun all the time, Pipsqueak. You’re the one who went from being my pal when you were fourteen to not being civilized four years later. That wasn’t on me.”

Itmightbe on me, though. That party we went to together during Thanksgiving break her freshman year of college—I know I didn’t handle things like I should have. But she didn’t either. And when she came out punching when I showed up at her house for Thanksgiving the next day, well, I wasn’t just going to lie down and take her insults, clever though they usually were. Now, we can barely be in the same place without getting into loud arguments, no matter how inappropriate the setting. Except for tonight, apparently.

I watch her as she continues to tell me about Jameson and Bryn, distracted by the flecks of light reflecting off her eyes, the dark green that is unlike any I’ve ever seen. I know people say they’re just like her brother’s, but—nope. The thought of her brother pulls me back to reality. This is Lila. The girl who turned from cute tag-along to feisty foe to enemy. I know we’ve been on friendlier terms lately as we try to save the sinking ship that is Jameson Walker, but no way am I going to let her catch me with my guard down.

“So why are you here alone?” I ask. “Couldn’t get that nerd boyfriend of yours to fly to Vegas with you on Jameo’s dollar?”

Lila slowly swivels on her stool to face me, and I swear someone put her in slow motion. Even her dark eyebrow lifts at an irregular pace. “Rude, JT. We were being civilized.”

I take a long pull from my drink, realizing as I swallow that the bartender replaced my empty second glass while I was thinking about Lila. Well, too late now. I guess I’m having three tonight. Luckily, I ate…nothing. I was going to grab dinner before Lila sat down. Shit. I may be a bit tipsy the night before a tournament. Not a good choice on my part. Fucking Lila.

“What? Did this one not live up to your expectations either? Did he run before you asked him to marry you, or after?” I ask.

“Wanting to date someone who isn’t a complete asshole isn’t that high of an expectation to have for a man, JT. I’m not asking them to marry me today, I just want to know it’s on the table.”

“It’s a lot to ask when they’re 24.”

She huffs out a non-reply, finishing her drink.

“He’s 26.”

“It’s the same thing. Not a lot of 26-year-old men are interested in shackling themselves to someone permanently.”

“Wow. You’ve got such a high opinion of love,” she says, laying the sarcasm on heavily.

“I think, of the two of us, my opinion of love and marriage may be more correct.”

“Doubtful. Plus, look at my parents. Look at your parents, for shit’s sake.”

“Your parents are the anomaly, Lila. You have to know that. My parents, on the other hand, prove my point exactly. I think they like each other okay, but saying it’s a love match would be a bit strong.”

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