Page 121 of Lemon Crush

“New chapter, sunshine, remember?” Chick said from the backseat. “There’s nothing wrong with trying to create the life that you want. You were slow-boiling like a sad frog in a pity pot for years. It’s time to try something different.”

“You do have a flattering way with words,” I replied wryly.

“I know I do. And if I cared as much about my art as you do yours, I’d be working on a real screenplay instead of lazily writing the wrestler’s saga,Mad Libs Part 5: The Pronouning.”

I reached back for his hand. “Okay, now that we’ve fixed all my problems and given me a makeover, I think we should start working on you. I don’t like hearing anyone put down my friend’s genius.”

“Preach,” Bernie said. “No trash talking allowed. We have to stay focused on tonight.”

“I can’t talk about you now,” I whisper-shouted to Chick. “She wants me to stay focused on seducing her brother.”

“Look, I’m not saying I have any money riding on it or anything…” Bernie started with a grin.

I whacked her on the arm. “You’d better not,” I told her with an incredulous laugh.

She joined in and then shook her head. “No betting. I just want him to be the one having fun for a change. I’m about to be a grandmother—dear lord, I can’t believe I just said that out loud—and I can’t remember the last time my big brother really stepped out and enjoyed himself. He’s always been too busy keeping the rest of us out of trouble. But you’ve thrown him off his game. It’s good for him.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I’d thrown him off his game?

He’d pulled me back into mine.

“It’s been good for her too,” Chick said, echoing my thoughts. “If you could forget your brother was the inspiration, you’d know it as soon as you read her book, the way I did.”

I frowned over my shoulder at him. “What does that mean?”

“I mean instead of writing your usually-complicated worlds full of magic and almost-impossible-to-pronounce surnames, you wrote about two mature people, each with their own flaws and personal demons to slay, falling in funny, lusty love. It’s a sexy book, but it’s also a hopeful one. Everybody wants to believe that it’s never too late to find The One.”

Was that what I’d done? I’d started it thinking it would be a romp through my libidinous subconscious. A way to jumpstart my writing after the Great Block that had slowly transformed into something I could potentially sell. Had I been telling my own story instead?

Had I written a book about falling in love with Wade?

25

AUGUST

“Gus?”

“One minute,” I called, my stomach fluttering as I checked my reflection in the bathroom mirror one last time.

My hair was still on point—the curls were maintaining their magically defined and frizz-free bounce and, more importantly, they were soft to the touch. I didn’t mean to obsess about it, but getting my hair in this condition usually required enough gel to give it a decidedly untouchable hard-candy coating.

Tony was my hero.

I ran a hand down my new periwinkle top. Chick and Bernie had made me buy a few new outfits, along with separate tops for everyday wear because “only college students and IT professionals have closets full of T-shirts with nerdy sayings on them.”

While I thought that was a rude bit of stereotyping, I did like my new options. The colorful vee and sweetheart necklines, along with two brand-new bras, hinted at the glory days of cleavages past and brought out what Chick called my peaches-and-cream complexion.

The shirts were feminine and fun, and when I wore them, I felt feminine and fun as well.

Which only affirmed the wisdom those two sages of sex appeal had laid on me: The shopping wasn’t for Wade. It was for me.

“When you look good, you feel good. And why wouldn’t you want to feel good?”

I stepped into my bedroom, barefoot and wearing black yoga pants with my new shirt. Still comfortable. Still me. But there was an extra swing to my hips that only today’s activities could account for.

Lunch and shopping with friends. It was the kind of normal I’d been craving—the kind that left me energized instead of exhausted. I was topped up with romantic advice and gossip and laughter, and it was helping to balance out the ball of nervous panic that kept hopping from my belly to my throat when I thought about what came next.

A small whine had me looking down at my latest guest.

---