Page 23 of Unlucky in Love
Ryan laughed, a low rumble in his chest. “She was seven. She thought she could survive on sugar and Spider-Man.”
“She would’ve tried,” Taylor said, smiling.
He leaned back on the bench, stretching his long legs out. “You followed her everywhere back then.”
“She’s my best friend,” Taylor said.
“And you’re hers,” Ryan said quietly.
Taylor glanced at him, caught by the warmth in his voice. For a moment, neither of them looked away. Then Ryan cleared his throat, breaking the spell.
“Do you remember when you brought that notebook up here and wouldn’t let either of us read it?” he asked.
Her cheeks warmed. “I was twelve.”
“You glared at me like I’d asked for state secrets.”
Taylor laughed, shaking her head. “I still have that notebook. It’s terrible.”
“Bet it isn’t,” Ryan said, sipping his hot chocolate. “What was in it?”
Her stomach flipped. She could still picture the cover: pink and glittery with a broken spiral binding, pages stuffed with ink-blotted hearts and overwrought dialogue. A story that was half-fantasy, half wish-fulfillment. A story about a girl who got swept away by a boy who looked a lot like him.
Absolutely not. He could never know.
Taylor forced a shrug. “Just stories. Nothing special.”
“Come on.” His eyes narrowed, amused. “You’re still deflecting. If it was nothing, you wouldn’t be acting like I just asked for nuclear codes.”
Heat crawled up her neck. “Maybe I was writing about unicorns.”
“Unicorns, huh?” His grin widened. “That explains the death glare when I tried to peek. You were protecting state secrets about rainbow horses.”
“Exactly.” She lifted her chin, daring him to challenge it.
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “You were always dramatic.”
Taylor managed a laugh, though her pulse still raced. Dramatic was safer than the truth. If he ever found out she’d filled pages dreaming about him older, unattainable, infuriatingly handsome Ryan Carter, she would never live it down.
He leaned back on the bench, still smirking. “One day you’ll tell me.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she muttered, taking another sip.
But even as she tried to steer the conversation away, the star-carved stone in her pocket felt heavier, like it knew she was lying.
Chapter 8
Ryan
Ryan woke before dawn, staring at the ceiling of his rental apartment, listening to the old radiator clank and hiss like it was arguing with itself. He had hoped exhaustion would finally catch up with him, but instead his mind wouldn’t let him rest. It kept circling back to yesterday.
Not the hike. Not the view, though the sweep of mountains and the pale winter sky had been something out of a postcard. No, what kept him awake was Taylor.
Her hair loose in the wind, cheeks flushed from the climb, eyes bright as she turned that small stone over in her palm like it was treasure.
She’d clutched it as though someone had given her a crown, not a simple polished rock. And the look on her face…it had hit him low in the chest, left him unsettled.
He dragged a hand down his face, groaning softly. This was exactly why he’d stayed away so long. She had always been too much—too stubborn, too smart, too sure of what she wanted,even as a kid. And now? Now she wasn’t a kid. Now she was a woman with a laugh that still knocked him sideways and a smile she tried to hide when she thought no one was looking.
