Page 60 of Curvy Love

Reid just shrugs. “It’s a fair trade.”

“Whatever,” Ben says. “Stella is my sister’s best friend.”

I just stare at him for a minute. “Why is that so difficult to discuss?”

“He’s in love with her, that’s why,” Reid says.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. Goddammit, Reid. We’ve discussed this. Hazel specifically asked me not to pursue a relationship with Stella. They were best friends first. I have to respect that boundary.”

Reid looks up at the sky and exhales loudly. “I still think Hazel would change her mind if you told her how you truly feel.”

“Noted. Now let’s move on.” Ben looks at me. “Last night and your lady woes.”

So I tell them. The whole damn story. About the auction and seeing Willow for the first time and how I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. Which is such a dunderheaded thing to say, but it’s the fucking truth.

“Once I got her alone, I had to get close and I kissed her and that’s when she told me that she was that model’s personal assistant and she’d been sent to bid on me on that woman’s behalf.”

“Oh fuck,” Ben says.

“Exactly.”

Reid pulls out his phone and starts scrolling. “Nope, none of that. Yeah, according to GossipLane, you’re going out with the woman who bought you. There’s no mention of Sabrina other than to say that she was a no-show for the auction.”

“What do they say about Willow?” I ask.

“She just says she’s not going to body-shame. The people in the comments are less than kind,” Reid says. I try to grab Reid’s phone, but he shakes his head and pockets it. “Bad idea, man. My wife has banging curves and I’ve heard some of the shit she’s endured over the years. People are cruel and stupid. You don’t need to go there. Do you like this woman?”

“She’s mine,” I say without even thinking about it.

“Well, there you go,” Reid says.

“Let’s run back to the condo and we’ll come up with a plan,” Ben says.

“A plan for what?” I ask.

“For winning your girl.”

chaptertwenty-five

Willow

“Will, seriously, what is wrong with you?” Laurel asks. My sister leans across the table and puts the back of her hand against my forehead.

I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re being weird,” she says, sitting back down.

I ignore that because I’m not being weird, I’m merely being pensive. “Where are Paisley and Ezra?”

“Not coming.”

“Oh, I’m sure there is plenty of coming,” Alex, my brother-in-law, mumbles from the kitchen.

I laugh and Laurel looks like she’s going to chastise her husband, but then laughs too. He is making us breakfast.

“So just the three of us?” I ask.

“Isabel and Sam might drop by later,” Laurel says

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