Page 33 of The Wildcat

“We are. And Mom was twenty-three when she was pregnant with us. I’ll understand if that’s what’s really making you pause, but Evie... I don’t think that’s what it is.”

I don’t say anything because she’s right. It’s not the kids.

“Did he kiss you goodnight?” Grace continues our stare-off.

I think back to the way he walked me to our door—because of course, Cross wouldn’t just drop me off in our garage.

The way his hands cupped my face before his lips lowered to mine.

The chills that skipped along my skin, like electricity skipping along a live wire.

The way I asked him if he wanted to come inside, and the way his answer made me feel.

“No, Cinderella. We rushed this once. Now, we’re going to take it slow. You’re going to let me take you out again. You’regoing to let me pick you up at your door, without arguing, and walk you back at the end of the night. Because that’s what you deserve, and that’s what a man does. We’re going to slow this down, so maybe the next time you’re acting skittish, you’ll stay still instead of pulling away... until you’re ready to push forward. I’m a patient man, Everly, and something tells me you’re worth every second of the wait.”

His body crowded mine against the door as he kissed me. Bit down on my lip, then soothed the sting with his tongue until I was aching and needy, and then he was backing away. “See you later, Cinderella.”

“Oh wow, seriously?” Grace’s cheeks flush, probably matching mine as I tell her about the end of the night.

“Oh yeah.” If I close my eyes tight enough, I can still smell him. Sandalwood and soap. All Cross. “Gracie... I think I could really fall for this guy.”

“I’m going to need you to tell me why that’s a bad thing.”

“I thought I already did.” I tick the reasons off on my fingers. “He’s Mr. Serious. A father of two. And a professional hockey player.” I hold my fingers up in front of her face. “There’s three big, glaring reasons.”

Grace laces her fingers with mine and holds our joined hands in her lap. “They sound more like excuses than reasons to me. He’s serious. So what? I’ve seen you be just as serious as anyone I’ve ever met when you want to be. Don’t listen to the boys or anyone else who tries to say you’re not. And boo-freaking-hoo, he’s an athlete. So was Dad, and Uncle Brady, Uncle Murphy, and Uncle Bash. Not to mention Grandpa. Our brothers are athletes. Callen’s an athlete.”

“Callen may not be your strongest example here,” I interrupt.

“True. Okay, manwhore aside...” She bites down on her lip and hides her smile. “Ignore Callen. But seriously. Dad worships Mom. And you can’t tell me our uncles don’t worship our aunts.Uncle Brady and Aunt Nattie are what half her books are based on. There’s a whole TV show about them, and they got together in high school. I get what you were saying yesterday about athletes. But... what if Cross is the exception to that rule and you miss out because you lumped him in with the jerks you’ve dated before?”

“Grace...” I plead, but I’m not really sure what I want to hear her say.

“You’ll never know if you don’t give him a chance.”

“But he’ll never hurt me without that chance either,” I counter quietly. So quietly that if it weren’t Gracie sitting across from me—Gracie, who I swear I havetwintuitionwith—no one else would ever hear the barely whispered words. But Gracie and I understand each other on a different level. We always have.

“We all get hurt at some point, Evie. That’s why the good things in life feel so good. If everything was easy, how would anything be amazing?”

“I hate that you’re always right,” I admit, exasperated. “This is why you’re the good twin.”

“No. They call me the good twin because you scare them. You’re the fearless twin. You always have been. You try everything first, so when I do something, it’s easy because I already know it’s safe. It’s been like that since we were little. And when I didn’t like to talk, you did it for me. They said you were loud, but you weren’t. You were protective. It makes you seem wild and bossy and makes me seem sweet and shy. When in reality, you were brave, and I was scared.” She tucks her feet under my blanket and turns off the light next to her. “Can I sleep here tonight, sissy?”

I hit the switch on the light next to me and pull the blanket up over us. “Always, Gracie.”

“Did you finish your design for the finale yet, Everly?” Aunt Carys looks over my shoulder at the gown I’m sketching behind the register at Le Désir, and I flip back to the previous page to show her my design for the fall fashion show.

“Put the finishing touches on it this morning. I just want to find the right lace.” I run my finger over the swatches I’ve got sitting next to me. “Neither of these are right.”

Carys let me design the panties Gracie and I are both wearing. She and Chloe designed the rest.

“I still can’t believe you got the Kingstons to agree to this,” Carys adds as she looks at the lace options again.

“My best friend is one of them. Once I had her on board, it didn’t take too much convincing. None of them can say no to Lindy.” When I came up with this idea a few months ago, I figured it was a long shot. Carys and Chloe’s lingerie is so delicate and sexy, but they wanted to branch out in their marketing. My idea was sporty. This town, and half of the high-end clientele from the city who shop here, have some kind of tie to professional sports. So my friends and I are going to walk the runway in the finale in the most expensive lace and silk panties. Boy cut, bikini, French cut, hipster, and a thong. But with a local sports twist.

I’m still shocked Brynlee agreed to the thong. But she really has a great ass, so who can blame her? Brynn works out daily at Crucible, her dad’s MMA gym. That girl squats like her life depends on it, and her body is insane.

“And you’re sure your dad is okay with this?” Carys pushes. She’s asked this multiple times, and I keep giving her the same answer. You’d think by now, she’d stop asking.

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