“Hmm.”
I shift my eyes to look at my best friend. “What?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs. “I didn’t say anything.”
Mia’s always found my… fascination with James to be of interest. I’m not sure how or why, but she’s taken great delight in it, teasing me about it at every given opportunity.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I joke, trying to change the subject as I gather trash from the table and stand up.
“Unfortunately, I do. I have class.” Mia pushes up from her seat, grabbing her bag and putting her sunglasses on. My reflection stares back at me as she says, “I’ll talk to you later, though?”
“Of course.” I smile.
Mia heads to class, and I get back to work, thoughts of James—as always—on my mind.
Chapter Two
RAVEN
ONE YEAR AGO
Turning nineteen today wasn’t something I was looking forward to. Not for any particular reason other than the party that my dad and stepmom, Emma, insist on throwing every year, is boring as hell. It wouldn’t be so bad if my friends were there—if I had any other than Mia, that is—but it ends up turning into a networking session for them both. I get it, he has to show off to investors and to the people that work for him, I just wish my birthday wasn’t used to do it.
Heading to the kitchen in search of coffee, I sidestep around caterers, party planners, and men setting up for tonight’s ‘soirée.’ The noise rings in my ears as shouts from various workmen grate on my nerves. Luckily, the kitchen is the one room in the house that doesn’tappear to have people floating around everywhere, so I get a moment’s reprieve.
Have I said how much I’m really not looking forward to today?
I sigh, remembering Mia will be here soon to give me the support I know I’m going to need. The constant dodging of old men who try and butter me up to get to my dad is creepy and exhausting. I’d love to say it hasn’t happened before, but it has… multiple times.
“Oh, there you are,” my stepmom says as she comes waltzing into the kitchen, not a hair out of place. “Darling, don’t you think you could have put some clothes on?” Emma wrinkles her nose and kisses my cheek as she goes to the coffee machine.
I adore my stepmom. For a woman in her late 50s, she looks incredible. Emma’s never been one for Botox injections or face-lifts, preferring to grow old gracefully, and I love that about her. She’s slim with long blonde hair that’s started to go gray at the roots, but as she says, “I’m growing old disgracefully and I refuse to apologize for it.” She’s just come from the home gym if her workout clothes are any indication, but she still looks as if she’s just walked off a model runway.
Looking down at my clothes, I frown. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing, Em?” The pink T-shirt and shorts I wear to bed are decent… I think.
She waves a hand in the air as she takes a sip of her coffee. “There are people in the house. Do you think you could put a little more on?” She gives me a pointed look, her perfectly plucked eyebrows raising slightly, and I sigh.
“Fine. Can I grab a coffee to go, pretty please?”
Emma smiles as she fills a cup with freshly brewed coffee, and hands it to me. “Go, get ready. We have a big day ahead.”
I hum in acknowledgement and make my way back through the madhouse that has become my home.
After drinking my coffee, showering, and changing into something that Emma found more appropriate, I grab my jumper and make my way down to the dock at the bottom of the yard.
I’m home for the summer—being an August baby has its perks—so the air’s still blissfully warm on my face as I sit on the dock, dipping my toes into the water. Sunlight streams through the tree branches as birds twitter and fly around.
I gaze out across the expanse of water—well, it’s more of a lake than anything—and think about my last year of school. I’ve worked my ass off for the last two and a bit years to get my Doctor of Physical Therapy when I graduate, yet it still feels like something's missing.
Sighing, I lay down, gazing up at the sky, trying to make shapes out of the clouds above. A shadow descends over me, and I glance to the side, staring into a pair of bright blue eyes that always make me catch my breath—James.
Jumping up, I practically throw myself into his arms, exclaiming, “James. What are you doing here?”
He chuckles, hugging me tightly. “I came to see the birthday girl, of course.”
Drawing back, my heart flips in my chest—god, he’s gorgeous.
James brushes a stray lock of dark hair out of his face, running a hand down the shaved sides and giving me one of his kilowatt smiles. His blue eyes always seem to sparkle, like he knows a secret that we don’t. His full, kissable lips lead into a strong jawline that I just wantto rub my hand across. His polo shirt hugs every muscle he has, and he hasa lot, the seams screaming as his arms bulge against them.
