Page 39 of The Wrong One

“Fine.” She smiled. “I’m not going to argue.”

We climbed into the backseat, pushing the front seats all the way forward and stretching out.

“Hey,” I said, trying to break the silence. “You okay?”

She turned to me and smiled. “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about something.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Maybe,” she answered, biting her lip. “I was just thinking about how much I’ve changed in the past month or so. How much my priorities have shifted.”

I nodded, not sure where she was going with the conversation. “In what way?”

“I used to care so much about what other people thought of me,” she said, her voice lowering. “I was always trying to fit in, to be what people wanted me to be. My relationship with Patrick was all about looking good on the outside. I suppose we never really worked on the inside. We were social media darlings. Our friends were always telling us how cute we were, and they were all so jealous. That’s what we lived for.”

“I never knew you were the social media type,” I said.

She smirked. “I didn’t think I was. I posted one or two pictures of us living it up at a yacht party. We got all these likes and comments. Patrick loved it. I’ll admit I did too. We were hooked. We started dressing for pictures.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our outfits coordinated,” she explained. “We wore colors we knew would look good in photos. I wore so much makeup and spent so much money getting my hair cut and styled. All because I wanted to put forward the perfect image.”

That wasn’t the Izzy I knew. She was never the person who cared a lot about what other people thought. “I think I would find that very hard to do,” I admitted. “It’s hard enough to get dressed to go to work. I can’t imagine trying to impress thousands of people.”

She smiled. “It was. It was ridiculous. I think I lost my self-esteem because of that nonsense. I would wonder why I only got a hundred likes instead of three hundred. I would analyze the comments and wonder if people were being real or if it was just snark. It was a fucking nightmare. I put myself in that situation. But now, I realize that the only person I need to please is myself.”

I studied her face, taking in the way her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car. “I’m glad you’ve come to that realization,” I said softly.

She turned to me, her eyes locking onto mine. “Do you really mean that?” she asked, her voice laced with vulnerability.

I nodded, reaching out to take her hand. “Of course, Izzy. You deserve to be happy and to live your life on your own terms, not for the approval of others.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she leaned in closer to me. “You know, I think I like this new side of you. The caring, sensitive type.”

I felt my blood heat at her words, my heart beginning to race. “Well, I’m glad you approve,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

She moved even closer. “Are you ever going to kiss me?” she asked on a whisper.

“I can’t,” I said. “Ramsey would kill me. You’re his little sister. He’s never going to let you date anyone, especially me.”

“My brother doesn’t dictate my life,” she said. “We’re not kids. He doesn’t make my choices and I don’t think he makes your choices, does he?”

I reached for her. My hand slid up the back of her neck and held her steady as my lips met hers. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, but soon it became heated and passionate. Our tongues tangled together, exploring every inch of each other’s mouth. I could feel the warmth of her body against mine as she pressed herself closer to me.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not Ramsey, not work, not even the fact that we were in the backseat of a car in a drive-in movie. All that mattered was that we were together, sharing this moment of pure bliss.

As we parted, gasping for air, I looked into her eyes and knew there was no going back. We continued to make out like teenagers in the backseat. There was the occasional scream coming from the movie, but neither of us listened. We were too focused on the task at hand.

I pulled back to catch my breath. “We’re going to get busted.” I laughed.

“That would be embarrassing.” She giggled.

“A little.”

“Is this why you wanted to get in the backseat?” she asked.

“I promise you, this was not my intention. I was just thinking we could put our feet up and stretch out.”

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