Page 9 of An Uphill Battle

I call out his name... like he’ll answer. Obviously, he doesn’t, and my panic increases. Where isBrody?

I haul ass up the stairs and into the nursery. Still no Brody. My entire body starts to tingle, and not in a good way. I leave Brody’s room and make my way to the guest room, where I’m met with the most amazing sight I think I’ve everseen.

Drake is curled up on top of the covers in flannel plaid pajama pants and a white tee, with Brody swaddled in a blanket next to him, surrounded by a pillowbarrier.

Myheart.

Mybrain.

Myovaries.

They can’t handle this. Nope, not one bit. So, I gingerly move Brody from Drake’s side and into his crib. I’m about to head back down to the couch when I hear Drake call my name, his voice rough fromsleeping.

“Yeah?” I ask him from thedoorway.

“Where yougoing?”

“Back down to thecouch.”

“Naw, girl, come on.” He stands from the bed and pulls down the covers, and I head to him and crawl into the bed with no argument. If he wants to take the couch, that’s fine byme.

I pull the plush down comforter up around me and watch as Drake leaves the room. I close my eyes and push my head into the pillow, trying to find that sweet spot, and I’m just drifting off when I feel the bed dip. “Whaa—”

“Shh, Bit, go tosleep.”

“Here? With you? I thought you were gonna take thecouch…”

He holds an object up, and with the light of the moon filtering in through the blinds, and the little green light blinking into the room, I can tell it’s the baby monitor. “Now, why would I sleep on the couch when there’s a perfectly nice bed up here? Close your eyes and go to sleep. Brody will want to eatsoon.”

Drake pulls me into him, bringing us chest-to-chest, and he slides his leg between mine so that we’re completely tangled up. Then he presses a kiss to my forehead and once again tells me to sleep, rendering me mute and unable toargue.

Plus, not gonna lie, this feels reallynice.

As I drift off to sleep, thoughts of Drake ping around in my mind, as they often do, and unfortunately for me, my brain settles on one of my least favorite memories as I succumb tosleep.

“You can do this, it’s not a big deal,” I tell my reflection, assessing my appearance. Tonight is too important to not look perfect. Too bad the girl looking back at me isn’t buying what I’mselling.

Sure, my dress is to die for. Short enough to make a preacher cuss, and tight enough to push together the little ant bites I call my tits. My long blonde hair is flat-ironed to perfection, not a flyaway in sight. My eyes glimmer with gold shadow, and my cheeks are a perfect peach to match my juicy peach-glossed lips. Yeah, I look the part. It’s my brain that’s not falling inline.

Thankfully, my heart is calling the shots tonight, and it’s steadily screaming to my brain, “You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.” My heart sings the refrain again and again, and I’m just desperate enough to believe it... to believe that I’m ready to claim myman.

All this time, from the moment I first saw him, he’s made my heart flutter, and Christ on a cracker, it pisses me off. Because behind those good looks of his, Drake Collins is anass.

Well, not really. Myla Rose says we’re like fire and gasoline—that we bring some kinda something out in each other. She says the only reason I’m so prickly is because I like him. And she’s right. I do like him. A lot. So much that I’m not sure how to handle it, so I end up being a bitch, and then he’s a dick. Wash, rinse,repeat.

But I mean, what right does he have to be so good-looking and charming and witty? What right does he have to make me want him when he’s constantly holding me an arm’s length away? I see the glimmer of want in his eyes every time he looks at me, and tonight’s my chance to make him see how good we could be together. Tonight’s the night we both stop denying. Tonight’s my last chance before he leaves forcollege.

Ready or not, Drake Collins, I’m coming foryou.

“AzzyJo, how much longer till you’re ready? Simon just texted me that he’sready.”

“Hush up, I’m ready.” I step out of Myla Rose’s bathroom and into the hallway, where I do a little spin. “So, whatchathink?”

Myla blinks back at me, taking in my risqué outfit. “Well, I think...” She pauses, twiddling her thumbs. “You look like you belong on a pole.” She cringes the moment the words pass her lips, but I justsmile.

“Perfect. Just what I was goin’for!”

“I don’t understand you, not onebit.”

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