by Tia Louise
He gives me that signature wink and heads towards the concessions stand. I hurry to the bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror, I wash my hands, waiting for the water to get super cold. As soon as it’s icy, I take my cold fingers and press them to the back of my neck. I do it again, waiting for the heat to subside. I’m not losing my way in all of this.
I took care of the dampness between my thighs, and I’m determined to keep my thoughts focused. This is a game. We’re guarding each other’s backs. “We’re like those levees along the Mississippi River,” I say to myself softly. “We’re holding back the water.”
“What water are you talking about?” Mims steps around the corner, narrowing her brown eyes at me.
Paradoxically, her snakelike appearance flips a switch inside me. This girl thinks she’s going to intimidate me. She’s got another thing coming.
“We’re in the bathroom, Mims. What do you think?”
“The toilet? You talking about toilet water?” Mims narrows her eyes and steps closer. “What about it?”
“I wasn’t talking about toilet water, I was talking about the ocean.” A devilish thought occurs to me. “Scout and I love the ocean… all salty and slippery.”
Her eyes flare, but she quickly grabs the reins. “You listen to me, Daisy Sales.”
“I’m all ears, Jemima.” I happen to remember from visiting here at seven, Mims was Sticky Syrup Panties to all the kids.
I don’t know the story, since I wasn’t a part of it, but I can tell she does by the way blue fire sparks in her eyes.
“How dare you?” she hisses. “You’re messing with the wrong girl, Daisy Sales.”
“What do you want?” My voice is calm, icy even. “Tell me and get out of my face.”
Her brown eyes run up and down my body, lingering on the curls at my ears and the daisies around my head. “He’s only into you because you’re new.”
For a moment, I consider correcting her. I’m not new. If I were, I wouldn’t know about Jemima, and Scout and I wouldn’t have been friends “for ten years,” as he likes to say.
Instead, I decide to hit the devil head-on. “Or...” I step closer, looking down my nose at my nemesis, and feeling equally devilish. “He’s into me because I’m a bad girl. Haven’t you heard?”
Stephanie’s eyes widen, and she clutches her Queen Bee’s arm. “Let’s go.”
Mims knows she’s lost this one, but I can see she’s not happy about it. “We should get back to our dates.” Then she steps to me once more. “This isn’t over.”
I don’t blink. I don’t move a muscle. I’m a stone-cold bitch staring down the meanest girl at school. Finally, she steps back and walks out the bathroom door, not looking back.
Letting out the breath I’ve been holding, I collapse against the wall with a sigh. Nobody knows. Nobody saw. Still, I know this is the start of a shitty year. Even if I have Scout watching my back, there’s no escaping those two.
Five
Scout
My brother said if you want something, you have to go for it. No holding back, no second guessing. Second-guessing is the killer of dreams, he’d say.
Daisy Sales is the thing that makes me second-guess everything, and I don’t know what to do about it.
Swaying side to side with her small body in my arms, I lower my nose to inhale her scent of coconut and gardenia. She smells like a warm fire mixed with a day at the beach. Perfect.
“What do you want to do that takes you so far from home?” She tilts her pixie head and blinks those round blue eyes up at me.
With the daisies in her hair and the golden curls around her cheeks, she’s like some kind of fairy. She’s a sexy Tinkerbell taunting me.
That is not why I asked her to be my wingman… Wing woman?
Daisy is not supposed to show interest in me. She’s smart and focused and nothing like the girls at our school, or the girls who chase me. Daisy will keep me focused on my dreams—like she’s focused on hers.
At least, that’s what I thought.
“Oh, you know.” Clearing my throat, I look away from her, not wanting to tell her the pie in the sky dream I have.
Guidance counselors said kids who dreamed of starting rock bands or becoming movie stars or famous novelists didn’t have a clear sense of reality. She gave us this whole long speech about how those kids had self-inflated notions of importance. Those kids thought they were somehow better than everybody else. Special.
We were encouraged to find sensible careers like auto mechanics or welding.
She never even considered the possibility that acting made me happy. That when I’d be in those school plays, I felt like I was ten miles high. I felt like I was taking the best adventure of all time.
I was getting to live another life, be another person. Not in a weird, creepy way, but in a fun way, like wearing a costume. And when the audience laughed at my lines or cried or cheered… Hell, it just didn’t get any better than that.
Did that make me a disillusioned dreamer?
It actually makes me really insecure.
I’m pretty much guaranteed a win if I stick with football. Hell, I really like football—when I’m playing with my brother, catching his passes and running them into the end zone for a touchdown.
Otherwise, it’s just a game.
Acting is next level.
“Have you decided?” Daisy watches me, that smart smile curling her pouty pink lips.
Her lips really make me want to kiss her.
Which would be a huge mistake.
“Decided what?”
“If you’re going to tell me what makes you want to leave Fireside, when everybody here treats you like you hung the moon.”
Lifting my chin, I look out across the gym. Can I tell her? I’ve never told anybody. I’ve been too afraid people would laugh at me… or worse, tell me I couldn’t do it. Tell me I was selfish. Tell me I was stupid.
My eyes lower to hers, and I know the truth. Daisy Sales is special.
“I want to be an actor.” My voice is just louder than the music.
We sway a few beats, and her eyebrows lift. She doesn’t immediately laugh or tell me to shut up, which is encouraging.
“An actor.” She pushes out her bottom lip and nods.
I really like how she’s thinking about it as if it could actually happen.
“When you say actor, do you mean like Broadway or—”
“Hollywood. I want to move to LA after graduation and see what happens.”
“Wow.” She lifts her chin, then nods slowly. “You’ve definitely got the looks.”
“You think so?”
Her eyes narrow, and it’s the first time since the start of our conversation she’s given me a look like I’m a dumbass.
“Don’t act like you don’t know how you look.”
“Okay,” I exhale a laugh. “I know I’m good enough for girls in Fireside. That doesn’t mean I’ve got what it takes for Hollywood.”
“You’ve got what it takes.”
We keep swaying, and a warm sense of satisfaction moves across my chest. She believes in me. She’s the first person I’ve told the truth, and she didn’t laugh in my face.
She pretty much did the exact opposite.
My shoulders straighten, and I stand a little taller. Tightening my embrace, I look down into her violet blue eyes. “And you want to be an antiques dealer?”
“A buyer. Dealers have stores. I want to be the one out there scouting, finding the unexpected, priceless items hidden in the junk yard.”
“Have you got a good eye?”
She grins at me. “The best.” Then she gives me a wink, something I’ve never seen her do with any guy as long as she’s been in Fireside.
Trust me, I’ve been watching.
“I know a winner when I see one.” Her voice is so calm, so confident.
I believe her.
Henry drops Sly and Daisy at Ms. Regina’s bed and breakfast by midnight, wh
ich Sly said is their curfew. We danced most of the night. I was named Homecoming King, no surprise there, and even less surprising, Mims Watson was Homecoming Queen.
We had to do one dance together, which thankfully was short. Mims is like one of those remoras you see hanging off the side of sharks. She latches on, and you can’t get her off.
She kept going on about how perfect we were together, and wouldn’t our parents be proud if we hooked up or whatever. I didn’t even bother to remind her my mom’s dead, and Dad hasn’t seemed to care about JR or me since.
Henry walks Sly to the door, and I know he’s dying to kiss her. She still thinks of him as a friend, but Henry is head over ass for her.
The hazards of living in a small town. We’ve all known each other since preschool. It’s hard to forget Henry used to eat playdough.
Daisy’s hand is in mine, and she hangs back, watching her cousin with wide eyes before turning to me and whispering at my chest. “How far are we taking this?”
Shit, I want to take it all the way. Still…
“As far as you’re comfortable.”
Lifting her chin, she blinks up at me and smiles. “You’re not what I expected, Scout Dunne. You’re really not.”
“You’re exactly what I expected.” I grin, and she pushes my arm.
“Rude!”
Laughing, I catch her by the waist, pulling her body against mine again. “I meant it in a good way. You’re just as smart and thoughtful as I knew.”
Her lips twist and she looks down. “Sorry. That’s really nice.”
“I said before you were cute, but that wasn’t right.” Her head snaps up, and I huff a laugh. “I was going to say you’re really pretty. You’re beautiful.”
She shoves my chest then, shaking her head and stepping back. “You don’t have to flirt with me. We’ve already agreed to this.”
I stand back, watching her go to the porch steps. What have I agreed to, exactly? And how do I change it? Do I want to change it?
Shit. My head’s getting all mixed up.
“I’d better go.”
She nods, but I can’t let it end this way. Closing the space between us, I catch her arms. She stops, but her eyes don’t meet mine. Little bumps of gooseflesh cover her skin, and her cheeks fill with color. She does that a lot, I’ve noticed.
“Goodnight, then.” Her voice is soft.
Glancing over at Sims, I know it’s now or never. “They’re probably expecting us to kiss.”
Daisy’s eyes go wide. “We’re supposed to be friends.”
“They don’t know that.” My eyes are on her full, dewy lips, and I step closer. My body is so close to hers, I can feel the heat of her skin. I can feel the brush of her breasts at my chest as she breathes fast.
We’re on dangerous ground, and I can’t seem to stop. “We can be friends.” I lean down, getting closer. “Friends who do this.”
Capturing her lips with mine, I spread them apart. I pull her tongue into my mouth, stroking it with mine, curling and tasting her sweetness like I want to do between her legs.
I wonder what Daisy Sales would sound like when she comes, and my dick hardens.
Her fingers tighten on my coat. Her body in my arms is pliant. She’s like a coconut-vanilla, soft and juicy treat, and I want more.
I want all of her.
Lifting my head, I look into her eyes. They blink open slowly, and she’s breathing so fast, she puts a hand on her chest.
“Oh.” It’s all she says before shaking her head. “I don’t think we should do that… or we might not be friends anymore.”
That makes me grin. “No?”
Her eyes finally meet mine, and instead of girlish and flustered, the smart-girl is back. Daisy arches an eyebrow at me and shakes her head.
“I don’t know, Scout Dunne. But I think you’re going to be bad at being friends with me.”
Clasping her chin between my thumb and my forefinger, I lean down to kiss that insolent nose. “I think you’re going to be bad for all my plans, and it’s going to rock.”
Her lips press into a smile, and she turns, walking slowly up the stairs to her aunt’s front porch. That dress sways over her ass, and I’m pretty sure she adds a little extra hip-shake for my benefit.
I’m tempted to catcall, but I don’t want to wake the neighborhood.
When she gets to the door, she does a little finger wave before disappearing inside, and I know. This year is going to be way more than I ever bargained for….
Thanks so much for reading Scout and Daisy’s prequel romance…
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J.R. is a grumpy single dad on a mission of revenge, until he meets a girl he can’t leave behind.
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Twist of Fate
Special Sneak Peek
A friends-to-lovers, second-chance, stand-alone romance by USA Today bestselling author Tia Louise.
To be “just friends” with a guy, you’ve got to follow The Rules:
Don’t touch him unnecessarily.
Don’t share your intimate dreams with him (even if he asks).
Don’t kiss him, and definitely don’t sleep with him.
Scout Dunne and I have been “just friends” since childhood.
He’s everything you could want—sexy, charming, confident—every girl’s wet dream.
Until we broke The Rules.
We broke them in the ocean, in my aunt’s bathroom, in my bed…
It was the hottest week of my life.
I’m one of the few people who knows the first-round NFL draft pick wants more than a life of sports.
Because we’re friends, right?
Not anymore.
Now he’s gone, and I’m trying to get my career back on track.
Mamma said a guy would never put your dreams ahead of his.
But the twist of fate?
It’s something you never see coming.
(TWIST OF FATE is a STAND-ALONE friends-to-lovers, accidental pregnancy romance. No cheating. No cliffhanger.)
Prologue
Scout
People used to say I could sweet-talk the devil into going to church.
My mom, who was a librarian and English teacher and one of the smartest people I ever knew, said I was a misunderstood character.
She said people looked at me and saw a handsome young man—her words—with blond hair and blue eyes, who slept with a football instead of a pillow and didn’t make very good grades and assumed I traded on that to get ahead.
That’s where they were wrong, she said. Mom said talking to people and listening to what they said made me just as smart as any valedictorian. She said my brother John, who we all call J.R., is more serious because he’s older.
I loved my mom, but I’m not sure she’s right either. I just learned pretty quickly growing up in Fireside, South Carolina, one of the smallest towns this side of Charleston, I’d get a lot further with being nice to people than being shitty.
For example, when I was in fourth grade, Ms. Myrna was going to flunk me because I couldn’t analyze Stargirl to her liking. I just didn’t understand it. The girl was weird, and I get it, Leo was a nerd with no friends, but what was I supposed to be learning from this story?
What was way clearer to me was Ms. Myrna’s husband had thrown out his back working construction at the new development down on the coast, at Oceanside Beach. He was laid up in the bed for weeks, and I could tell by the tightness around my teacher’s eyes, it was wearing on her.
So maybe I couldn’t write an A paper, but I sure could mow her grass and cut that old vine off her back fence and hold the door for her when she carried too many books from the teacher’s closet.
Ultimately, she said if I could at least recite the plot of the story, she’d give me credit for reading the book.
What did that teach me? Getting in there is better than keeping people at arm’s length like my brother. It’s not manipulation. It’s simple facts.
Facts I never shared with my mom.
She was also the kindest person I knew. Laying in that sickbed, she would trace her fingers along my forehead as I knelt at her bedside, and I never wanted her to leave us.
The night she died, the man from church said heaven must’ve needed another angel. He said she was too good for this earth—something even I knew. He said it was fate.
Losing my mom was a truckload of bullshit. I’ve never felt anger so intense, burning so hard in my chest, it radiated up the back of my neck. It made me want to break things. It made me almost forget…
My life was like an Etch A Sketch Fate scooped up and shook hard. I hated that feeling. It sucked. I never wanted to feel it again.
J.R. and I were left with my dad to figure out what the hell to do with ourselves, so we did what we knew—football. Dad threw himself into work, only noticing us when we were in the backyard drilling, and when J.R. and I became superstars.
