Page 8 of The Fangirl and the Playboy

“Friends, huh?” he huffs, eyeing me like he might suss out the truth with his gaze, alone.

“Yes, sir,” I say. “Willow is actually mybestfriend.”

He continues to stare for a long moment, then harrumphs before nodding and walking away without another word. Just as the tension drains out of me, I stiffen back up as Willow’s voice rings out behind me.

“Best friend, huh?”

I spin around to meet her gaze with a nod. “The very best.”

“You want to get out of here?”

“But…this isyourparty,” I say, jerking my head toward the group of people milling around.

“I need some air,” she says, her gaze shooting over my shoulder nervously.

Before I can look back to see who’s caught her attention, she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the exit. Pushing through it, she drags me out behind her, not stopping until we’ve rounded the building.

“Who are we hiding from?” I ask as she collapses back against the brick wall.

“My brother,” she admits with a sad frown.

“Why are we hiding from him?” I ask, cocking my head to study her.

She looks a little sad as she shakes her head. “He doesn’t know we’re friends.”

My eyes squint as I watch her cheeks turn a bit ruddy. She’s embarrassed that she’s keeping our friendship a secret from her brother, but despite that embarrassment, she feels the need to continue to do so. I trust her judgment, but I can’t resist giving her a little shit over it.

“So, I’m your dirty little secret, then?” I ask, waggling my eyebrows.

A laugh bursts out of her, and I feel like the sun just rose for the second time today, just for me.

“Kind of,” she admits, then shakes her head. “I love him, but he’s overprotective to the point of driving me insane. He’d pick our friendship to death and probably want to have a little chat with you about it. And he wouldn’t be nearly as polite as my grandpa was.”

I can understand that. If my underage little sister was hanging out with a man who’s, for all intents and purposes, anadult, I’d be all over him making sure there’s nothing shady happening. But I don’t like that Willow is missing her party just to hang out with me.

“Do you want me to leave? We can always hang out tomorrow.”

“No!” she blurts, her face filled with panic at just the thought. Then she settles, and in a calmer voice adds, “No. I’m glad you came. My party wouldn’t be the same without mybest friendhere.”

She winks at me with that last bit, and I smile back at her even though I don’t feel it. I know I called her that first, but hearing her say the words makes my chest hurt so bad, I can’t help but rub the heel of my palm against it.

What in the hell is wrong with me?

ChapterFive

Willow

Itake a deep breath and let it out slowly before chugging a big gulp of my morning coffee. It’s Saturday, which means the tourists will be up and about early this morning, prepping their bodies for a long day of sight-seeing––which usually includes caffeine and baked goods.

I normally live for mornings like this, but after a shit-tastic night of tossing and turning in my bed, I’m dragging ass this morning. I don’t even want tothinkabout the reason for my insomnia, but his dark eyes and boyish grin flash through my mind anyway.

And now, I’m even grumpier than I was before. Is this what Trace used to feel like before he met Keegan? I don’t know, but if it is, I don’t know how he lived with himself. It sucks monkey balls.

As I walk toward the front door to unlock it for the day, I make plans to grab an amethyst and a rose quartz from the shelf and shove them into my bra. The crystals should give me clarity and make me calm, soothing my anxiety so I can make it through the day without screaming. Or crying.

I hate feeling this way. I rarely do.

Shit, maybe I should switch from coffee to tea for a while, too. At least until a certain movie star leaves Evening Shade for good.

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