Page 89 of Holding On To Good

To be honest, though, it was probably more the latter than former.

Poor Willow.

Unrequited love sucked.

Or so Verity had heard.

She wasn’t dumb or reckless enough to let it happen to her.

And just because she’d checked her phone once or twice or a hundred freaking times since her and Reed’s strange text conversation last night, and just because she might have started two or three or twelve texts to him that she ultimately deleted, and just because the memory of him—barefoot and shirtless in his doorway—had popped into her head a few or a thousand times today did not mean she was crushing on him.

Talk about a cliché. Good girl falls for bad boy.

No. Just… no.

It was Reed’s fault she’d thought of him at all. Him and the text he’d sent her as she’d been falling asleep last night.

Reed: You still owe me.

She wasn’t sure if it’d been a threat or a vow or some odd combination of both—which actually seemed more likely. Reed Walsh was nothing if not contrary.

She had no idea what to do with any of it. With him helping her the other night and giving her his jacket to wear. With him getting completely muddy and being pissed at her but then sticking up for her with Miles.

And then he had to go and throw in that you owe me. Not once but twice.

It was all very confusing.

And annoying.

But then, guys like him often were.

Which was why girls like her needed to steer clear.

“You know,” she finally said, “there are few greater pleasures in my life than rendering one of my brothers speechless. But to get three of them at once?” She paused with all the drama the situation called for and, pressing her hands together as if in prayer, sent a grateful look to the heavens. “Miraculous. I mean, water hasn’t converted into wine and the bread bowl hasn’t even refilled itself, let alone multiplied, but surely God must be on my side. If she wasn’t, this glorious event never would have happened. Let’s all just take a few seconds and offer up our thanks.”

She bowed her head and shut her eyes.

“We’re not speechless,” Miles said. “We’re giving Urban a minute to process this information.”

“Shh shh,” Verity whispered, eyes still closed. “You’re ruining this special, spiritual moment and now I can’t hear the angels sing—Wait.” Her eyes flew open. She narrowed them on Miles. “What do you mean, giving him a minute to process?”

She shot a glance at Toby as he got to his feet. Come to think of it, both he and Miles had taken her declaration in stride. “You knew?” she asked them. “Both of you?”

Toby nodded. “Since high school.”

Of course they knew. They were always one step ahead of her.

So irritating.

Then what he said sank in.

“Willow’s been hung up on him since high school?” she asked, horrified.

Miles nodded. “And he’s been hung up on her for just as long.”

Urban made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl.

Or a muttered death threat.

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