Springtime in Hollow Brook is in full bloom. There is nothing more beautiful than a blue-sky spring morning in this mountain town. The hollyhocks climb in hues of red and purple, and the lavender verbena glows against the verdant green hills. When my mother was still alive, she adored her magnificent yet humble flower garden. Lisa took it over once I killed our mother, and after that, well, she effectively killed the flower garden.

My phone buzzes in my purse, and I pluck it out—speaking of my brown thumb-wielding sister. Three weeks you haven’t shown your face in this town! Three weeks! Do you even exist anymore?

Suffice it to say, Lisa is a tad bit irate. I’ve been avoiding her like the overprotective plague, because for one, I could never lie to my sister. And secondly, every detail of my life as of late requires that I lie to my sister. Have I mentioned that lying to my sister can lead to Oscar-worthy level theatrics? In layman’s terms, all hell breaks loose quicker than a firecracker goes off on the Fourth of July.

Maybe this weekend! I shoot off the text, knowing full well I’ll come up with yet another golden goose of an excuse. God knows I’d love to see my sisters and my nieces. But, at the moment, I’m staring up at a short, boxy building with the words Hallowed Grounds stamped on the outside in huge silver letters. Back at Whitney Briggs I spent all of my glory days nestled in the armpit of this caffeine asylum. I love the fact that Hollow Brook has an off-campus option for those of us living on the other side of university life. And I think that The Sloppy Pelican can be exactly the answer to the Black Bear for those of us over twenty-one as well. Ironic since the Black Bear is a bar first and foremost. Nevertheless, I stride in and the thick scent of gloriously slow-roasted beans bowls over my senses.

“Good God, I’ve died and gone to java heaven.” It’s the same layout inside as the one at Whitney Briggs, same dark wood floors, sturdy steel furniture. Only this version has oversized nature prints strewn around the walls with inspirational quotes attached to each one in lieu of pennants in the university colors of orange and blue. And I can’t help but note that this version, much like the last, has a bevy of bodies all slumped over their very own laptop. I guess some things never change. You can take the kid out of the university, but you can’t take the porn sites out of the university kid. I jest. Hollow Brook is a notorious college town with over three major universities circling the area that I know of, so of course the town is bound to be brimming with intellects who nary stray from their modular pixilated worlds.

No sooner do I step up and put in my order than my phone bleats again. Only this time it’s not the sister I’ve been avoiding. It’s the best friend I’ve been evading.

Earth to Low? You still alive? What’s new with my brother? Please tell me you have not fallen in love with him! He’s in a world of hurt, and the last thing he needs is you in his bed with a whip and blindfold.

I smirk down at the note from my bestie. The whip and the blindfold were too vanilla for him. We’ve moved on to far more sadistic pastures. BTW, have I expounded lately the pleasures of a Prince Albert piercing? Your brother truly is a bad boy! Levi suggested I get the female equivalent, so we’re at the tat shop now. Which brings me to my next question: Should I be worried if the place reeks of three-day old meatball sandwiches? I give a brief chuckle as I hit Send.

She texts right back. Back away from my brother! Do not pass go! Do not collect another 200 orgasms! And for God’s sake, do not indulge yourself in female mutilation. A moment of silence thumps by before she shoots another text my way. Levi’s at the gym. You’re not funny by the way.

Really? ’Cuz I think I’m hilarious. My insides squeeze tight at the thought of collecting something as delicious as orgasms from Levi Masterson. And he’s at the gym? A brief visual of him sweating and grunting while his biceps pop turns my panties into raging rivers. I blink back to life before sending off another text. And would you please stop? I haven’t touched your brother—who by the way became an uncle due to very salacious circumstances! I’ve already congratulated Raven on her niece, but decided to spring my knowledge of all things family secret for a more opportune moment like this one.

So you know.

Just as I’m about to text her back, they call my name and I collect my large mocha frap and scan the place for an empty table. My eyes snag on a wily looking redhead, and for a brief second we ogle one another with the same puzzled look on our faces while trying to figure out where the hell we know each other from.

Then it hits me, and I try to make a break for the door but, evidently, it’s hit her too because she bulldozes her way past all the geekery and loners this place has to offer just in time to block my exit.

“It’s you!” we both shout at the same time. Our chests each pumping with the same determined speed.

“You owe me five hundred dollars!” I grit through my teeth at Lex, Lexy, Alexia, Alexa-who-the-hell-cares food critic landed me in prison extraordinaire. “And I hope you got fired!”

A cool chortle escapes her lips as she steers me to the table against the window laden with her oversized Louis Vuitton bag and Chanel sunglass case preening from the top of it.

“On second thought, give me the purse and we’ll call it even,” I say, falling in the seat across from her. She’s gorgeous in a psychotic kind of way. Her lips are painted a bright shade of fuchsia. It’s an unforgivable offense and every sorority girl knows it, although something tells me I’m not dealing with your average sorority girl here. “You’re a Barnes’ girl, aren’t you?” It comes out accusatory, but I can’t help it.

Her eyes widen, accentuating her perfect wing-tipped lashes. “How did you know?”

“It doesn’t take a genius.” Barnes is the private all-girls’ college up the road from Briggs. Those Barnes’ girls were always making the trek to the Black Bear to steal a Briggs’ girl’s lunch—or should I say midnight snack. Why anyone in their right mind would want to go to an all-girls’ university is beyond me, unless, of course, girls were their flavor of choice.

She leans in quickly and gone is that happy-to-see-me smile, those wild eyes traded in for a beady, nasty glare. “No, I did not get fired. But nice touch getting yourself a set of silver bracelets. My boss saw that on the news and bought the fact I told him I was mugged by some lunatic.”

On the freaking news? Dear God. Can’t breathe. “Should I dump my coffee over your head or just slosh it all into your purse? Honestly I want to know which way it would hurt more.”

“Stop.” She cuts a crazed look around the establishment before leaning in farther. “My ex was in there.” Her lips pull down a moment like she might cry. “I didn’t want to see him. Not then, not ever.”

“Well, then might I suggest you stay very far away from The Sloppy Pelican because he’s one-third owner and a cheap one at that.”

“Cheap?” Her neatly penciled-in brow hikes into her forehead, and I can’t help but notice the fact her fingernails are sharpened to long pointy tips with the intent and threat to emasculate. “How so?” It sounds as if adding a monetary allowance to Axel’s worth is exactly how he might rid himself of this Prada wrapped parasite.

And then just as quick as my anger reared its ugly head in her honor, the next hour turns into a bona fide coffee klatch as if we were old friends. I can’t help it, though. In my defense, I miss Raven. Not the texting version that accuses me of kinking up the sheets with her big bro, but the real deal, the in-the-flesh version that gasps and sputters with laughter the way Lex here has been doing right along with me. Have I mentioned she’s hanging on to every word with bated breath? Lex has successfully managed to scratch a friendship itch I didn’t even know I had.

“And that, my dear Lexy Poo, has been my life for the last three weeks.”

Her lids hang low as that smile is wiped right off her face. “Call me Lexy Poo again and they would have been the final three weeks of your life.”

“Fair enough.”

“So, what should I call you? Evie?” Her brows twitch with amusement. Lex has a cutting beauty. You can tell from one look she’s a take-no-prisoners, hang-’em-by-the-balls kind of girl, and a part me has always admired a self-reliant badass like Lex. Basically, I think we all want to be Lex when we grow up.

“My name is Harlow—but Low is just fine.”

“Does Raven know you have the hots for her brother?”

“Would you shush?!” I swat her over the arm while scanning the place for signs of Levi. “It’s sort of a new revelation, and no, she doesn’t know, nor will she. She specifically instructed me to stay away from him.”

“Pft. That’s reverse psychology at its finest.”

“Oh no, Raven means it. Did all that BS that went down between him and his soon-to-be-ex not register? He really has had a shit ride. I can see why she wants to protect him.”

Her lips twitch to and fro as if she were struggling to tie a cherry stem into a knot. “I have an older brother—a far too protective older brother so I totally get it. You don’t need to tell me how siblings can get in the way of things.” Her gaze cuts to the floor a moment, and I speculate he had something to do with the great demise of Axel and Lex. “So, what’s the baby’s name?” She shudders as if glad to change the topic.

“Maxwell—named after their dead father. It’s the exact name poor Levi wanted to gift his first child, and the snake used it anyway.”

She scoffs at the audacity. “Cheating snake.” She glares at the floor again, and now I’m really wondering what the hell happened between her and Axel. She shudders again. “But, regardless, I love the name. She’s got an X in there somewhere, so already she’s a winner in my book. I happen to have three of them.” Her face lights up with wicked delight. “Alexa Ximena Maxfield.” She takes a mock bow. “I’m a triple X threat.” Clearly, she’s pinned a lot on this alphabetic achievement.

“You’re a threat, all right. So, what’s the deal with you and this guy Axel?” I gasp upon the revelation. “Oh my God! You dated the poor boy because he had an X in his name, didn’t you?”

She swings a guilty look to the ceiling. “That may have started the crazy train, but believe you me, I was quick to forgive the fact his last name is Collins with no X in sight.”

“Wow. An alphabetic grievance at its highest—you have a heart of gold.” I’m guessing more like coal. “But you’re quite literally exes at the moment. And I’m just going to be upfront with you. If you dumped the dude because of his last name, that makes you clinically insane.”

“Oh, be quiet.” She shakes out that long crimson mane of hers, and for a moment I have a deep sense of follicular envy. “We’re not together because it’s none of your business.”

“Hey. I just spilled my entire life out before you like tipping over a jar of marbles. Have I mentioned how much I hate those silver bracelets you gifted me a few weeks back?”

She cringes. “Okay, I’ll throw you a bone, but that needs to be the end of it. I’m a firm believer in speaking no evil, and believe me, the universe loves to unleash all of the ripe hell that escapes my mouth.” She glares at the sky a moment. “Axel and I dated—undergraduate. Everything was going great until senior year.” Her lips swell, and her eyes gloss over in an instant. She twirls her cup between her fingers, her gaze is set straight into the past as she vegges out while looking through the table. “And that’s it.” She perks right back up. “I’m over it. Who knows, I might even walk into The Sloppy Pelican one day to prove it.” Her left eye twitches as if contesting the idea.

“Something tells me you won’t.”

She leans in with her sharp, expensive beauty. “Something tells me you know me too well.”

Something tells me I’ve just got a standby bestie.

Lex and I exchange numbers, and I run out the door to work my shift at The Sloppy Pelican. I take my sneakers off in the car and exchange them for my Louboutins. I’ve discovered what every waitress worth her salt already knows—a little cleavage and legs-to-there garner me three times the tips than a turtleneck and wedges.

Nobody said life would be fair or comfortable.

Saturday afternoon, I’m dancing around the kitchen, whipping a batch of chocolatey goodness while blaring “Key Largo”. Brody, the manager—the second partner in The Sloppy Pelican has kindly gifted me the evening shifts, otherwise known as the “show me the money” shift because it yields a ton more in tips than the lunchtime rush.

I spin around with the spatula positioned as a mic while I belt out the lyrics into its chocolate-coated goodness and stop cold when I spot Levi standing in the doorway with his arms folded tight. His hair is damp from the shower, his chest is as wide as the doorway, his legs are parted in a defiant stance, and it gives him a bad boy appeal I’ve always been such a sucker for. His lids are low as if I’ve somehow offended him and he suddenly wants to turn me over on his knee and teach me a lesson. Okay, so that last part might be wishful thinking on my part, but holy hell, the man is hot, and right now, internally, so am I.

“You looking for a fight, or are you just constipated?” I dot the tip of his nose with the spatula, and he wipes it off and licks his finger clean. My God, the look on his face while he sucks down on that finger. All sorts of lewd thoughts kick-start through my brain as I envision him sucking down on a lot more delicate things, and I’d gladly dip them into brownie batter to entice him to do it. I’ve been trying my hardest to deny my budding crush on the six foot three linebacker, blue-eyed, black-haired stud that my so-called best friend has decided is a no-fly zone. If she really loved me, she’d land him on my bed naked with a big fat bow over that package I’m hoping he’ll gift me.

“I’m looking for a date.” He frowns as if he’s not. It’s only then I note that he’s dressed to the nines, sort of—dark inky jeans, dress shirt, and a tie are more or less his go-to wardrobe staples.

“Good luck with that. I’ve got another twenty minutes.” I tick my head toward the oven. I’ll admit that Levi’s state-of-the-art culinary devices have me as hot under the panty line as he does. What girl wouldn’t want to flirt with a virtually unused Wolf oven in her spare time? Not to mention with its owner, although no thanks to Raven I’ve been forced to abstain from that little flirtatious detail.

“Perfect. That’s enough time to get dressed. We don’t need to be there until five.”

“We?” I step in close to Levi Masterpiece, and the scent of his sweet wood-infused cologne renders me useless. “Where pray tell are we headed, Boobear?” Please say my bedroom. Please say my bedroom. I get the feeling Levi Masterson is the type that would bark out orders, and I promise you, I am the type who would leap to each one.

“My mother’s.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “They christened Maxie a couple of hours ago, and she’s guilting me into it.”

I suck in a breath. “I’d swat you over the chest with this spatula, but I don’t want to ruin your christening attire. Yes, you should go! My God, you should have gone hours ago and brought me with you! And poor Raven. She’s missing everything.” I do my best to hustle. I tame my hair into submission, paint my face in record speed, and slip into a nice, tight, white dress I’ve been saving for a special somewhat chaste occasion. Lastly, I slip into a pair of pale silver heels that Raven herself lent me, and I happened to never-on-purpose give back. I speed back to the kitchen just in time to pull the brownies out and hit the kill switch on “Key Largo”.

“I’m ready,” I pant up at Levi who’s standing there with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

“You look beautiful.”

My face heats a thousand times over, and my body breaks out into a sweat. I’ve been called a lot of things by boys in my life, but beautiful isn’t one of them. Our eyes lock for a strangulating moment as my heart does its best to knife its way from my chest. I’m pretty sure a date at the morgue isn’t quite what Levi had in mind, so I make the first move toward the door. Another second alone with him might have led to a myocardial infarction that would have sent me to heaven and not in the way I’ve been fantasizing that he would.

Levi drives us out of Hollow Brook Hills and into Hollow Meadows, another ritzy area that borders Hollow Brook. All signs of humble houses are long gone as we enter the arena of the mega mansions, row after exasperatingly long row. I knew Raven came from money, but I had no idea she sprung from royalty or at least as close as you can get in North Carolina. We pull up to a circular drive with a bevy of different, pricey rides all parked in a row. Levi leads me in and takes up my hand as soon as we walk through the oversized glass doors leading into the palace.

“You mind?” He winces through a smile, but his touch warms me straight to my toes, and I would pay him all of the spare change I’m currently deficient in to have him hold me like this all night long.

“Evie would be pissed if you didn’t.” I nudge my shoulder playfully into his.

Levi leads us to the back of the marbled-floored, limestone-walled ode to all things wealthy home. If the foyer, the grand sweeping double stairwell, the oversized family portrait—Raven’s hair looks impeccable by the way, Levi and Chip look startlingly handsome per usual, and my heart goes pitter-patter for the both of them because I can’t tell which one is which—anyhoo, if none of the architectural details of the home gave it away, it’s clear the Mastersons are exorbitantly wealthy. It’s all a bit over-the-top in the luxury department, but it screams old money, and now that’s something new money can’t buy.

Levi stops us shy of the rear yard, where dozens of people mill around swilling champagne flutes in their hands and noshing on what looks like shrimp the size of your hand, and suddenly the pescetarian in me is very glad I came.

Levi steps in close, his chest searing over mine, and I can feel his minty breath blowing softly over me as he pumps out a dry smile.

“We’ll be quick,” he whispers it hot over my lips, and my heart implodes on impact. I’m betting Levi isn’t quick when it comes to the important things. He lifts my chin gently until I’m snared into his gaze. “In and out.”

That tender spot between my legs gives way to a spasm, because holy hell—a little in and out sounds like something I would very much appreciate right about now.

“In and out,” I whisper breathy without meaning to. I give a quick glance at the patio and spot Chip—handsome as he might be he’s still a grade A asshole in my book. I see Bonnie, Raven’s lookalike mother, holding the baby whose christening gown might just double as her wedding dress one day—it’s that long. Just past her sits a stunning brunette with full, vampy red lips, eyelids smoldering to perfection that alert me to the fact she knows how to wield a mean makeup brush. It’s not easy to pull off that look and not come out on the other end of it looking like a raccoon. “Who’s the girl next to your mother?” Normally, I wouldn’t divert the attention of someone I’m interested in away from me, but let’s face it, Levi is basically off-limits and I’m curious as to why that smoky-eyed beauty queen just took the baby and shoved her under that expensive blouse of hers. Bonnie seems completely content to let the supermodel smother her grandchild.

“That’s Mer.” He grunts and so do I.

“Are you sure that’s Mer? What happened to the girl I met at the hospital?” I stop shy of adding the fact Mer is supposed to be plain as a pancake both on the maternity bed and off. Crap. It looks like she chose to forgo a bagful of Sephora’s goodies on D-Day and completely tricked me into believing she wasn’t any competition in the least.

“I’m positive.” His fingers glide over my back, warm and commanding, but I’m still stuck on the fact I too have been duped by his shady ex.

“Oh, wow.” It comes out slow and catatonic. “She’s stunning.” I’m not sure why, but the urge to claw at her feels like a real one. It’s as if she’s pulled the beauty queen card when I wasn’t looking, and suddenly it’s me that feels plain as paper.

Levi wraps his strong arms around my waist. His Caribbean blue eyes needle into mine. “Honey, she’s not the stunning one—you are.”

My stomach squeezes tight when he says those words, and all I can do is blush like a silly schoolgirl.

He touches his forehead to mine a brief moment and sets off a wave of lust in me. “Trust me, you are every bit beautiful inside and out. She doesn’t have a thing on you.” He ticks his head to the side wistfully as we make our way out among the masses.

Bonnie and Chip scuttle right over, and we exchange niceties.

“You’re still here!” Bonnie’s eyes grow wild as if this were a feat. “Outside of Meredith, Levi hasn’t had a steady girl. If I see you again, I’ll expect an engagement ring.” She gives my nose a playful tap while chortling up a storm.

“The sooner, the better.” I wrap an arm around Levi and bat my lashes up at him expectantly. He’s built like a monster truck, and with those pearly whites and baby blues, I’d say yes on the spot before ever taking this bad boy for a test drive. I’m guessing he knows exactly how to use his ample equipment and handle mine. Come to find out, underneath that rugged, grumpy exterior he’s pretty much a softie. I’m even betting he’d make sure I got to the finish line first.

“What’s this?” Meredith pops up, and upon closer inspection she looks less supermodel and more runner-up at a Goth beauty pageant. Okay, so I might be a bit resentful of her sudden need to look like a stunner, but only because my heart wrenches at the thought of Levi wanting her back. She’s poison. She slept with Chip for God’s sake. Ergo she’s rotted out her vagina with his brother’s semen. She’s completely off-limits to him, but men aren’t ruled by logic. They’re ruled by their smaller far more stiffer and greedy for pleasure flesh-covered swords.

Chip nudges her in the arm. “They’re talking engagement.”

Meredith tips her head to the sky and belts out a laugh. “Please.” She blinks back the moisture building in her eyes from what I’m guessing are the comedic circumstances. Doesn’t she wish. “Levi, you’ve got to be kidding me. Please don’t string the poor thing along.” She leans in, and I hate myself for secretly admiring that glow of her complexion. My God, I have to get the name of her esthetician. “Do yourself a favor and find someone in your age bracket.” She glances down to my feet, then right back up again as if she wants to add my financial bracket as well. “Levi is just some old pervert looking for a good time.”

Bitch. I shed a naughty grin.

“Lucky for him I’m looking for a good time myself.” I reach up and curl a finger under his chin, stealing a moment to scratch that scruff he’s been wielding my way like a psychological weapon of sexual warfare. “And a good time is had by all, dirty and often. Isn’t that right, Boobear?”

“That’s right, Peaches,” he grits it through his teeth. I’ll admit it might be uncomfortable trying to prove your virility with your mother around. And just like that, Bonnie takes off for a group of friends across the yard as if on cue.

“In fact—” I hike up on my tiptoes. Even in heels I can hardly lift my lips to his cheek. “Levi here really knows how to take that whole bedroom rodeo thing to a whole new level.” I tap my fingers over my lips as I return my attention to Meredith and her obnoxious good looks. “But you know all about that, don’t you?”

Both she and Chip attempt to choke out a response, but it’s clear I’ve rendered them speechless and hopefully with enough rompin’ stompin’ naked cowboy boot-wearing visuals to last a lifetime.

I graze my finger over Levi’s lips, and he gently bites down over the tip. “That’s right,” I sing. “This boy can tie my arms and legs up to the bedpost in less than ten seconds flat.” I poke my finger back into his pie hole, past those full, perfectly formed lips, and feel the heat of his mouth melt over me. An entire series of warm vibrations echo off that one heated exchange, and I’m ready for far more traction that will hopefully lead to some serious mattress action. That bedpost thing sounds like a good starting point.

Levi’s chest bumps with a quiet laugh. “That’s right. We’re riding the high life and each other behind closed doors.”

I press my lips tight, holding back a laugh. My gaze seals over his, and for a moment it feels as if we have something real. There’s a warmth in his eyes. Something about the way Levi Masterson looks at me makes me feel as if I’m the most important person in the world. Then, like a slap to the face, I see Raven vaguely staring back at me, and I recoil in the event she decides to morph to life and deck me for having indecent bedpost-inspired thoughts about her brother.

The baby starts to fuss, and Meredith is quick to hand her off to Chip. “Tag, you’re it. I think it needs a diaper change and maybe it should be put to bed.” She sneers at Levi. “There’s just so much to do with a baby. I’m the milkmaid, and Chip’s everything else.” She hacks out a laugh that sounds as if someone just set a cat on fire. Geez, for that chortling offense alone, I’d say Levi can count his lucky stars. And referring to your beautiful baby girl as it qualifies her to have her mommy card revoked in my book.

Chip takes off, and a stunned silence takes over as Meredith moves in close to me with her never-ending scowl.

“I think we’re going to take off, too.” Levi rubs his thick fingers over my back and sends a tingle right down to my toes.

I scratch that scruff along his cheek once again because, face it, touching Levi is like crack. One hit can never be enough. “We’ve got a lot to do ourselves.” I give a cheesy wink toward his skank of an ex. “I’d better put this one to bed, if you know what I mean.”

An unintelligible choking sound emits from Mer’s throat as Bonnie comes over and lands an arm around her shoulder.

“We’re taking off.” Levi gives his mother a kiss.

“Oh, dear, say it isn’t so! You just got here.” She offers me a forlorn look that I’ve seen Raven give me a thousand times before. “We’re serving cake in five minutes. It’s bad enough you missed the buffet. Please stay. I’ll make sure you’re served first.” She takes off with her hands in the air shouting for the waitstaff to move it, move it!

Chip comes back and tries his best to hand the pretty little princess to her mother, but Meredith cringes like she might be sick.

“Oh, hon, I’ve done my duty for the next eighteen years.”

“Wow, and you think I’m the peach,” I whisper to Levi, and we share a private laugh.

“What was that?” Mer squints over at me with a death stare, and personally I’m thrilled to have achieved such a level of disdain in her. It’s most likely a compliment. Miserable people gravitate toward miserable people, thus the spontaneous departure from Levi. Although Chip doesn’t seem all that miserable—at least not what I know of him.

“Dude.” Chip shakes his head at his brother. “What are you doing with this chick? Everyone knows it’s a farce.”

My mouth falls open.

Levi’s chest thumps, and I’m hoping that means he’s good and pissed on my behalf. If he’s not, he’s so getting cake in the face.

“This chick has a name—Ester.”

“Evie,” I’m quick to correct.

“Peaches.” He looks down at me and winks, his lips curving into a warm smile. Levi Masterson has a calm about him that I have never seen in another person before. Certainly not in his spaz of a sister. I’m guessing this apple rolled far away from the twisted family tree. “And she happens to be the love of my life.” His eyes dig into mine, and for a moment I believe every word.

“Please,” Meredith huffs with her voice registering so low she manages to sound like a demon. What a shocker, showing her true colors right here at her daughter’s christening. Ten bucks says she morphs into a bat at midnight and flies the hell away.

“He’s right.” I offer an impish grin, but it quickly fades. The moment grows serious, and I can feel myself drawn to him like fire to oxygen. “There isn’t one fake thing about us.” I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him down. His eyes round out before his lids grow heavy with lust, and just like that, I crash my lips over his.

Okay. Perhaps kissing Levi Masterson in front of God, his soon-to-be ex-wife, and his two-timing twin brother wasn’t the best scenario for our first kiss, but I couldn’t hold out one second longer.

His lips linger over mine, pillow soft and yet commanding. His chest expands beneath me and takes my body for the ride. I’ve kissed my fair share of male suitors. I’ve kissed a helluva lot of frogs, too, but this kiss, this magical, warm, inviting lip-lock for two is by far the best action I’ve received in a lifetime.

I pull back, my heart racing into my throat, my face burning bright and hot as the sun. A waitress shoves a cake plate into each of our hands, and I giggle as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

Meredith and Chip have long taken off, and I’m glad. It’s just Levi and me.

“Would you like a bite?” I carefully offer him a forkful of white fluffy goodness.

“From you or the cake?” His brows do the worm, and, honest to God, my sweet spot just tingled at the sight.

“If you play your cards right, I can arrange for you to have both at once.” GAH! I just formally propositioned Raven’s brother at his childhood home. I’m pretty sure that beat down Raven promised is just around the corner.

His head ticks to the side with a slightly puzzled look on his face. “You are aware we’re alone, right?”

“You are aware I’m a living, breathing woman who’s been swept up in your brute charm and caveman-like qualities.”

He barks out a laugh. “Now for that I apologize.”

“How about we forgo the apology this time and hit the road instead. I think we have a few more rules we should hammer out to our little arrangement.”

His arms ride up and down my back freely, and we feel every bit like an official couple. My heart says steer clear, this is your bestie’s big bro, but all of those tingling bits and pieces down south scream bang him until he’s dead or blind. What Raven doesn’t know won’t kill her—but if she ever did find out, she might kill me. Oh hell, what’s a little homicide between friends? One night with Levi might be well worth a satin-lined casket.

Levi Masterson scours every inch of my face with a look of stoned lust in his eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.” He marches me straight through that overgrown palace, and we do just that—we get the hell out.

The house is lit up a cheery peach before we ever get out of the car. Levi has his tiny house—and honest to God, after being in that mausoleum of his mother’s, I’d swear this place shrank a good thousand square feet—anyway, he has the place hot-wired to an app on his phone, and the house obeys his every command from whatever locale he chooses. He proudly showed off the feature not long after I moved in and screamed my head off because I was sure the place was haunted. He was quick to assure me of the fact that the reason the lights were flickering on and off for an hour straight was something that amounted to a butt dial on his part, and he apologized profusely.

No sooner do we get inside than I pull out the brownies I made earlier and plate them for us to share. I hurry back to the living room, where Levi points a remote at the fireplace, and soon a blaze roars out of it, licking up the side of the walls. Even his fireplace is hot-wired for flame-licking success. Gotta love a boy who’s a techie nerd at heart.

For the most part, Levi’s décor is on point—stained wood floors, enough marble, and top-of-the-line appliances in his kitchen to assure any master chef would be happy—and this amateur baker is pretty psyched herself. Nevertheless, there is one decorating faux pas that Levi here has committed, and it’s a level one offense. On the mantel, seated in a place of honor, dead center for all to see, is a ceramic monkey with five arms—yes, you read that right—five arms and in each tiny primate little hand is a knife-sharp sword. Seriously, it’s a weapon and a mindfuck. Sure, it does double duty in that respect, but really? Does any home need a monkey wielding five swords? I think not.

He turns the volume up, and flames come shooting out of that fiery orifice, threatening both the monkey and me. “Slow down there, cowboy. I’d hate to be the barbeque special of the week at The Pelican.”

He frowns, and his dimples go off like two sharp little darts. I’ve always thought Raven’s dimples were the best, but after seeing them on her brother, I’ve relegated her to second place. Everything about Levi is next level compared to Raven, and I feel a little bad about even having the thought. For so long I worshipped my roommate, but after meeting her brother, well, let’s just say there’s a new deity in town.

He leans in, his lids fall heavy, and oh my God, he’s going to do it! Levi Masterson is going to give his little sister the big FU and kiss me right here in his home—lips first, body to follow. My body trembles to have him as I scoot in close. The heat from his skin sears over mine, and he lets out a deep resonant groan that brings me to the brink. My thighs shake. My panting picks up, and it feels as if I actually might faint. Now that would totally suck, and I’ll throat punch myself once I come to should that happen.

He leans back and clears his throat with a startled look in his eyes. “Let’s talk about The Pelican.”

“The what?” I squawk so loud you’d think my head was on fire. Something is on fire, all right, but it’s down a little farther south than my prime apex.

“The menu.” He clears his throat again and leans so far back you’d think his mission was to push through the wall. “You were working on revisions.”

“Oh, right.” I glance down at my purse. “Actually, I printed out a list for you to share with Axel and Brody. I dig through it and hand it over to him. My phone gives an obnoxious burp, and it’s a text from Raven. While Levi pretends to busy himself with my many upgrades that will undoubtedly save his restaurant from the ranks of all things humdrum—and thus Chapter 11, I steal a quick moment to see what my bestie is up to.

Who the hell is Evie Slater? And why in God’s name is her skank ass all over my brother?

I suck in a quick breath and pull the phone close to my chest. Levi actually seems to be embroiled in that silly list I gave him, so I take a moment to text right back.

No clue. I shoot it over to her quickly. What gives? Is she texting you?

That’s my way of saying who the hell ratted me out?

Meredith—his ex, let me know. They christened my beautiful niece tonight, and I feel like a sack of crap for missing it. I swear, one of these days I’m going to quit my job. Trust me, I’d much rather be in Hollow Brook right now than in Milan.

I can’t help but roll my eyes.

Levi looks up. “Everything okay?”

“It’s great. This will just take a sec.”

Milan, huh? Wow, I really feel sorry for you. Never mind who your brother is dating. Maybe this Evie chick can finally get him to stop stomping around town like he’s out to eviscerate everybody. BTW, word on the Italian street says Milan is a hub of butter soft handbags. Any brand will do! Hint hint! I hit Send.

Okay, so that’s a mild exaggeration regarding Levi’s somber stomping ways, but only a mild one. Then in a moment of devilish delight, I pull the big kahuna on her.

Maybe if he finally gets L-A-I-D it will be for the best. Nine months and counting is a pretty long time for a dry spell.

Okay, so my own dry spell makes that look like a hop and a skip, which only goes to show that jumping in the sack would totally do the both of us a world of good.

She texts right back. I guess. I just hate the thought of some dumb twat jumping in the sack with him just so she can get her rocks off. There is no way in hell they’re in love, and if my brother deserves anything, it’s to be in love with the right person forever.

And just like that, she’s managed to defuse my lady boner. My pink parts protest like a three-year-old who just had her sucker revoked.

Feeling sleepy. Better go! TTYL! I drop my phone back into the bowels of my purse and kick it to the side for good measure. Who knew my bestie could be such a killjoy? I bet if I texted Lex she’d cheer me on from the sidelines while decked out in couture from head to toe. Her sense of style is ridiculously on point at all times.

“So, what do you think?” I swoop a brownie off the plate and hold it out in front of his lips. Levi twitches his brows before taking a quick bite and letting out a scrumptious moan.

“I think you make a damn mean brownie.”

“Great. You can add it to the menu along with my other suggestions.”

“I don’t know.” His arm swings over my shoulder, and I scoot in until I’m nestled under his wing and we’re both glossing over my new and improved menu for The Sloppy Pelican. “Foie gras, truffle wagyu beef burger, Sevruga caviar bites, asparagus fries, seafood paella?” He rattles off less than half the list. “These sound a little too refined for the bar.”

“That’s your problem. You think of it as a bar. It’s a refined establishment for those looking to graduate from the Black Bear. Look, as soon as I walked in, I fell in love with the atmosphere. Your décor is to die for. But the menu screams dated. I’m warning you, if the blue-haired society gets wind of that early bird dinner menu, you’ll be looking at a sea of gray from here on out. And that whole AARP thing will be a reality. Only this time you’ll be in the pamphlet listed as a top senior hot spot. And you can forgo the band. It will be way too loud for them. On second thought, you can just ask the clientele to turn down their hearing aids upon arrival.”

His chest thumps with a laugh. “You really know how to sock it to a guy where it hurts.” He pinches his eyes closed a moment before turning to face me. “I like it, though.”

“I can hurt you all night long if you want me to.” Wow, nothing screams desperate to get some action than resorting to threats of bodily harm. Oh hell, what’s a little bodily harm between friends—and hopefully, soon-to-be lovers.

“Low.” He pulls back an inch, and I pull him right back in.

“Don’t you Low me,” I growl it out like a threat. His arm secures over my shoulder, and I soak in every inch of warmth his body is giving me. “It’s Peaches to you.”

A deep rumble of a laugh percolates in his chest, and he pulls me over his lap. “You don’t know the things you do to me.” His eyes reduce to slits, his expression as somber as can be. “We can’t.” He shakes his head. But I’m not about to protest. Not with words anyway.

“We can. We should practice. You know, in the event we need to lock lips in public once again.” I lean in and take in his clean scent, my heart doing its best to jackhammer out of my chest and straight into his. My fingers strum across his cheek, across his lips, and his eyes close as if he were resigned to what comes next.

His dimples dig in deep, no smile, and I can’t take another second longer without this man on me or in me.

“Low,” he whispers, but I silence him with my mouth, and my insides squeeze tight at the feel of his butter soft lips over mine.

Levi starts in with a slow and lingering kiss, reminiscent of the one we shared earlier at the christening. Then as if he’s been resurrected from the dead, electrocuted back to life, he lands his hand to the back of my head and presses me over him hard and needy. His tongue teases me, begging for me to open for him, and I do. I open wide and hungry as he falls into my mouth, and we’re right back to slow and lingering as our tongues make the proper introduction. Levi tastes like chocolate, like lust and every lewd intention known to man all rolled into one. But mostly, he tastes like he’s mine, as if he were waiting for me all along, like he was meant for me.

And I think he is.