Page 45 of Three Little Wishes

“I don’t care about her hair, Willow. What I do care about is that my fifteen-year-old sister is drunk.”

“I’m not drunk! She is.” Riley jerked her thumb at Cami, who apparently thought that was hysterical and collapsed on the couch giggling. Riley smiled, showing off her purple teeth.

Noah looked at them, shook his head, and then stalked to the door, letting it slam shut behind him.

An hour later, Willow rejoined Noah by the fire. “Riley’s okay. She had half a glass of wine, and I washed her hair. Itwas food dye so most of it came out. She’s sleeping, and so is my aunt, who will be hungover in the morning. On a positive note, she probably won’t want to do anything other than lie around all day tomorrow.”

He turned his head to look at her.

“I know, I know, and I’m not trying to make excuses for Cami but Riley said she was still upset about Flynn.”

“So my sister tried to cheer her up by drinking with her?” he said in a familiar sardonic tone that a few days ago would’ve made her grit her teeth, but she didn’t blame him for being angry.

“No. Cami tried to cheer herself up by drinking, which I’m sure her forty-seven-year-old self knows only makes things worse, but her seventeen-year-old self doesn’t. If it’s any consolation, Cami didn’t push Riley to drink. My aunt apparently didn’t feel like sharing, but Riley was curious. At least she tried it when she was in a safe environment, right?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Exactly how angry are you right now? Angry enough to kick my aunt out or could we compromise and you could pretend to strangle her?” She searched his face. “No? How about an angry kiss? With me, not my aunt.”

“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at—”

She gasped. “You can’t kiss my aunt. First of all, she’s drunk, and she’s sleeping. Secondly, I don’t want you to kiss my aunt. I want you to kiss—”

He cut her off before she told him the truth and said “me,” and he did this by leaning in and kissing her. It was nothing like the lip-lock they’d shared at fifteen, which had been a literal lip-lock. Noah Elliot had learned to kiss, and like everything else he did, he did it exceptionally well.

“You’ve clearly been practicing,” she said when they came up for air. “And just for the record, that wasn’t an angry kiss, was it?”

“Did you really stop kissing me to talk about what type of kiss it was?”

“No. Of course not. I just thought we were taking a breather, and I was complimenting your technique. You’re a very good kisser.” She leaned in. “I promise not to interrupt you again.”

He smiled. “Glad to hear it. And just for the record, that was not an angry kiss. That was also not me trying to shut you up with a kiss, although it did cross my mind. That was me not being able to resist the temptation that is you for a second longer, even when I know I should.”

“You really, really shouldn’t,” she murmured, and then she kissed him.

Riley’s voice coming through the screen door interrupted them. “Um, Willow, Cami’s throwing up.”

Chapter Fifteen

Cami woke up, squinting against the sunlight flooding her bedroom at the beach house. What had she been thinking, drinking a bottle of wine the previous night? She groaned, pressing a hand to her pounding head. You’d think she would’ve learned her lesson after what happened the last time. It was how she’d ended up with a broken arm… and ruined her relationship with Flynn.

She raised her arm, studying her cast. Her friends’ names, written in colored markers and accompanied by stick-figure drawings to cheer her up, were missing. Just like three decades of her memories. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she stared at the plain, white cast. She felt as if she was losing her mind.

Yesterday had been the worst. She hadn’t recognized half the stores on Main Street, and then she’d seen that boy. He looked just like Flynn. The boy she’d loved. The boy who’d broken her heart. A boy who was now a man, and she was still seventeen, stuck in the body of a forty-seven-year-old woman.

It was easier being seventeen, easier not to open the door to her memories. She’d tried. She really had. Even when the pain in her head nearly brought her to her knees, she’d tried to remember. But it wasn’t pain that kept her from openingthe door to her memories, it was fear. It was like when she was a little girl and had been afraid to open her closet door at night, positive there was a monster inside. Something warned her that there was a monster lurking behind the door where her memories were stored, and she wasn’t about to let it out.

She shot out of bed, ignoring the pounding in her head as she ran for the bedroom door and pulled it open. “Riley! Where are you?”

“In my bedroom!”

Her panic subsided at the reassuring sound of Riley’s voice.

Riley poked her head out of her room and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Cami smiled with a shrug. “Just looking for you.” She joined Riley in her room and looked around. It was spotless. The only thing out of place was the box on Riley’s bed. “What are you doing?”

“Remember I told you I wanted to find some of my mom’s stuff?” Riley asked while walking back to her bed. “I found this box of photos from when my mom was young.” She held one up. “Come see.”

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