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Perfectly You (The Perfect Series Book 2)

Page 23

by Robin Daniels


  “And?”

  “And, the ringer was playing “I’m too Sexy.” I’d programmed that to be Jake’s ringtone on Tuesday after the rehearsal. I grabbed Sophia’s purse from her and fished out my phone. We proceeded to have a knock-down, drag-out, honest-to-gosh fight in the middle of the art museum. Until we were asked by security to leave.”

  “Shut up! You got kicked out of the museum? What, did you punch her or something?”

  “If I’d punched her, we’d be having this conversation over a phone, through a thick layer of glass from the county jail. Besides, I thought you might want that honor.”

  “Good man.” I nodded.

  “I drove her straight back to my house and told her to get in her car and leave.”

  “And she did?”

  “Yep. She tried to fight me about not getting a full date first, but at that point I was scary mad. I told her she lost her right to finish the date when she decided to act like a manipulating, deceitful B… only I used the bad word, which I’d normally never do to a girl.” Andy looked ashamed at the admission. “At that point, even Sophia knew better than to push. After she left, I saw all the missed text messages from you and Jake and the one that Sophia had sent from my phone. I was turning around to come find you when Jake screeched up my driveway like a mad man ready to beat the crap out of me.”

  I chuckled. “He was pretty upset when he left here.”

  “It didn’t take long to explain what happened, which redirected his rage. Then he took off to find his sister.”

  “That’s probably when he came back here for Lilly, too,” I reasoned.

  Andy took a deep breath and pulled me close. “Now do you understand the torture I’ve experienced all afternoon? Thinking that my current girlfriend, who I’m wildly crazy about, hated me because my psycho ex-girlfriend, who I’m not so crazy about, broke up with her on my behalf.”

  I hugged Andy and sniffled into his shoulder. “We sound like a bad reality TV show. You can’t make this crap up,” I said as a few stray tears fell onto his shirt.

  Andy pulled back to look at me. “Hey. Why are you crying? I promised I’d never make you cry again. You’re turning me into a liar, and it hasn’t even been fifteen minutes.”

  “They’re happy tears.” I smiled.

  “Ivy, I’m so incredibly sorry that I got mad at you. I was being stupid. I know I told you that Rob’s my hot button, but that doesn’t make my behavior ok. You were only trying to help, and I know that now. I also know I can be kind of…emotional…”

  “Kind of?” I snorted.

  Andy smiled. “Yes, kind of emotional, and it’s amplified whenever I think about Rob. I realize that I really need to get over it. Maybe someday I’ll grow a pair and confront him about everything, but until then I’m not going to let him come between us. I understand you have to work with him and I’ll be respectful of that, because I trust you. Can you forgive me?”

  “You were being pretty stupid,” I replied, only half teasing. “But I forgive you. I’m partly to blame for this whole mess, too. I’ve had a lot of time to think over the last day or so. I’ve also had time to be chastened by my best friend…and yours.” I grinned. “You were justified in being upset. I never meant for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. I’ve never even thought it. But my brain and my mouth don’t communicate very well with each other.”

  “Your mouth communicates fine on its own,” Andy said with a smirk under his breath.

  I shot him a look but otherwise ignored him. “Actually, I’d decided you were pretty hot before I asked you to help me with the auction. That’s why I asked you to help. I’m shallow and have really high expectations, so I wouldn’t have recruited you if I thought you’d make me look bad.”

  Andy looked at me skeptically. “Then why push the makeover?”

  “Because I thought I was helping. I thought I could get you to feel more comfortable with the idea of being put on display. What I wasn’t thinking about was the message that I was sending. Even though it wasn’t the message I’d intended to send. So, Andrew Walker, I also need to ask forgiveness. Am I forgiven?”

  Andy held me at arm’s length, studying me intently. “My brain hurts. If I say you’re forgiven, can we skip the talking and move on to the kissing? I’ve heard that make-up make-outs are the hottest.”

  “Why don’t we find out?” I asked with a wicked grin. Then I pushed Andy back on the couch, and in the words of a fiery little redhead I know, I snogged the hell out of him. When we finally broke apart, my hair was mussed and my lips were swollen. I lay next to Andy, with his arms wrapped around me, completely content for the first time since I’d begged him to bail me out that day in art class. But there was something nagging at the back of my brain. It took a minute to realize what it was.

  “What took you so long to come over this afternoon?”

  “What do you mean?” Andy asked.

  “You said that Jake came by after you kicked Sophia out, but that he basically left right away. I assume that’s when he came to get Lilly. If I’m not mistaken, she left here around one.” I looked over my shoulder at the clock. “You didn’t get here until after four.” I pouted. “Why’d you wait so long to come over?”

  Andy grinned lazily. “That’s a surprise.”

  “What kind of a surprise?” I asked skeptically.

  “The good kind,” Andy murmured as he swept his mouth across mine, nipping at my bottom lip.

  “Could you be more specific?”

  “I could, but it would require getting up.” He squeezed me tighter. “And I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

  “But I really love surprises,” I coaxed, rubbing my nose against his.

  “Mmmm.” Andy pressed his mouth to mine again and ran his fingers through my hair, speaking between kisses. “Exactly how much do you love surprises?”

  “Enough to give you that handsome reward I keep offering, if the surprise is a good one.” I might have vowed to stop fixing things, but I wasn’t above a tiny bit of harmless manipulation.

  “Good enough for me,” Andy said animatedly and pushed me off the couch, jumping to his feet. He held out a hand to help me up.

  “Must be a good surprise.” I laughed. “I assume it’s at your house. Do I need to change or anything before I go?”

  “No,” Andy answered. “You look perfect. You always look perfect.”

  I looked down at my yoga pants and volleyball T-shirt, then ran my hands over the hair I’d failed to brush this morning. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” He grinned. “But maybe you should go grab your swimsuit.”

  I hurried upstairs to grab my suit. “Can I at least get a hint?” I asked as I walked back in the family room. Then I thought about my question for a second and narrowed my eyes, adding a caveat. “A hint that won’t land me in your pool with all my clothes on.”

  Andy grinned, then pulled me close and whispered in my ear. “I believe I owe my beautiful girlfriend a dance.”

  We drove to his house, and Andy showed me exactly what he’d been doing for three hours before he got to my place that day. He blindfolded me first before walking me out to the back patio. When he pulled off the blindfold, I was standing in front of a beautifully decorated table. It had linen napkins and a centerpiece with candles and everything.

  There was classical music playing through the outside speakers and dozens of tea lights floating in the pool. He pulled out a chair for me, then sat across the table and made a quick phone call to tell someone that we were ready. Minutes later, Sarah came out carrying a tray with appetizers. I’d told her they looked amazing, but she insisted she couldn’t take credit. She was only the waitress, Andy was the chef.

  We enjoyed an amazing five-course meal, prepared by my equally amazing boyfriend, as promised in the date that Sophia stole from me. After dinner, Andy walked to the stereo and grinned before changing the music from classical to Frank Sinatra.

  In case you were wondering
…Andy does look amazing in his swim suit. And man, oh man, that boy can dance.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  I hope you enjoyed Perfectly You! Keep reading for a sneak peek of book three in the Perfect Series, Perfectly Summer. If you feel so inclined, please leave a review online and spread the word. Every sale or review helps get my name out there. Visit my website and sign up for my newsletter if you’d like to know when and what is coming next or follow my author page on Facebook.

  Website: robindanielsbooks.wordpress.com/

  Facebook: facebook.com/robindanielsbooks/

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thanks to my husband, Alan, and my cute, crazy kids for your continued patience and support. Thank you to my editor Jen for being awesome and getting this one done on a tight deadline. Thank you to my betas, Kelly and Karie for your great feedback, as well as all my ARC readers who leave me all those kind reviews. Thank you to my agent, Sarah, and her staff for working hard to help me to do the things I probably couldn’t manage on my own. And finally, an extra BIG thanks to Josh for the cover design and formatting, it all looks just as amazing as the first book!

  Robin Daniels is a wife, mother of five and avid consumer of books. She loves reading SO much that she was actually grounded from it as a twelve year old. No Joking! Her mom caught her reading when she was supposed to be cleaning, which was a common occurrence. At that point she was instructed to go watch TV or play outside like a normal kid. Robin is also a sucker for home design shows and magazines, and has a very co-dependent relationship with a certain diet soda who’s brand shall not be named. (Though anyone with a similar problem could probably guess which one.)

  SNEAK PEEK

  PERFECTLY SUMMER

  by Robin Daniels

  PROLOGUE

  It was the last day of school, the sun was shining, and in thirty seconds I’d be saying goodbye to this filthy school bus for two and a half months. As the bus slowed to a stop I decided that nothing was going to annoy me this afternoon. Especially not my idiot younger brother Logan, as he intentionally knocked me in the back of the head while passing. Or my idiot older brother Lucas, as he stopped to kiss three different girls on the cheek while making his way to the front.

  Today was the beginning of summer break—my favorite day of the year. I liked it even better than Christmas, because Christmas was just one day—maybe a month if you counted the whole season. Summer break was multiple months of sleeping in, swimming, staying up late to watch movies, and wasting the day away playing video games. It was no homework, no teachers, no nagging parents, and basically no rules. Best of all, it meant two months of Summer. Not summer the season, Summer the girl.

  Every year since I was ten, my brothers and I had been shipped off to Florida to stay with my grandparents during summer vacation. Mom would drive us down from our home in South Carolina, spend a few days visiting, then take off. The first summer we stayed I was nervous to be in a strange place, with no friends. Sure, I’d have my brothers, but that wasn’t much comfort considering I was what adults referred to as sensitive. My brothers picked on me relentlessly, and maybe sometimes I cried. Ok, a lot of times I cried. Yes, I realize how wrong it is that I let my younger brother push me around. But he was bigger than me…still is.

  My grandma is a very intuitive person, so that first day my mom left Gran walked me and my brothers down the street and rang the doorbell at the West residence. A woman in a long flowing skirt and yards of beaded jewelry opened the door with a warm smile. The house smelled of incense and cookies, which was an odd combination, but strangely inviting. Mrs. West called up the stairs and seconds later two kids came crashing down, elbowing each other as they ran. She introduced us to her children, Hunter and Summer.

  Hunter was the same age as Lucas, and Summer was the same age as me. I was hesitant to be friends with a girl, knowing how much crap Lucas and Logan would give me for it. But Summer rushed past everyone, grabbed my hand, and dragged me through the family room to show me her pet lizard. She hadn’t given me a choice about whether we’d be friends. Six years later, she’s the biggest reason I look forward to summer break. And the reason nothing would sour my mood today. In one week I’d be with Summer and my Summer vacation could begin.

  “Mom, we’re home,” I called as I walked through the kitchen door. But she was nowhere to be found.

  “What’s Dad’s car doing in the driveway? He never comes home from work early,” Logan asked as he pushed through the door behind me, dropping his bag on my foot in the process. I sighed and picked it up, then placed it on his designated hook in the mud room.

  “He barely comes home from work at all,” Lucas muttered under his breath.

  “And who was the hot chick driving away when we walked up? Dang!” Logan whistled.

  My father, Dr. Lance London, was a professor of physics at Clemson University. He was a brilliant man, but like many other academics, somewhat stuffy and always consumed in his work. This left him very little time for us. Maybe it was my so called sensitive nature, or perhaps it was my love for learning, but my father and I had always shared a bond that was different from him and my brothers. I admired my dad and looked up to him. Logan had been going through a self-absorbed phase for the last fifteen years, so he didn’t care that Dad was too busy for us. But Lucas did. Consequently, he and dad had been on shaky ground for a while now.

  My mother was totally different. Lisa London was kind and gentle and about as unpretentious as they came. She tended to smother us boys, which was particularly hard on Logan since he was a brat and too cool for school. And, since he was the youngest of her three sons, he got the most smothering. I’m a momma’s boy, I’ll admit it. The smothering has never bothered me.

  “Levi, is that you?” Mom yelled out for me after opening the bathroom door.

  “Yeah, we’re home. What’s Dad doing here?”

  Mom came down the stairs and the moment I saw her face I knew something was wrong. She’d obviously been crying, but that wasn’t what bothered me. Mom was known for crying regularly. She was a real gusher. What concerned me was that she looked angry under her tear-stained cheeks. Livid even.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, more than a little worried. She didn’t get a chance to explain before my dad came barreling out from their bedroom, sliding on a shirt as he walked.

  “Lisa, can we talk about this?” he asked in a desperate plea.

  She looked at him, pain and hurt filling her expression. “I don’t have anything to discuss with you.”

  “Please, Lisa, let’s go outside, or on a drive. The boys don’t need to be a part of this conversation.”

  Now I was getting anxious.

  “What don’t they need to hear Lance? I think they have the right to know that their father is a cheating son-of-a…” She trailed off before finishing the expletive and took a deep breath. Then, eyes rimmed with tears, she turned to me and my brothers. “Boys, go pack your bags. We aren’t waiting until next week to leave for Gan and Pop’s house, we’re leaving tonight.”

  I looked to Lucas, who seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. In unison we glanced at Logan, praying he’d have the good sense to keep his mouth shut. It was a small miracle that he did, though I could tell it was killing him. He was probably itching to blurt out something inappropriate like I guess this explains the hot young blonde pulling away from the house a minute ago.

  “Lisa, I’m sorry. It didn’t mean anything, I swear. Can we just be reasonable adults for a minute?”

  I watched my mother’s eyes narrow, and I cringed. I can only guess at what she’d walked in on, but even I knew those were the wrong words to say. She took one more steeling breath, squared her shoulders, and faced my father.

  “You lost the right to have a reasonable conversation with your wife the second you became an adulterer.” Her words carried a tone of finality. She grabbed her purse and keys from the counter. Shoving her phone in her pocket, she walked to the front door, and her eyes foun
d mine. “I’ll be back in three hours. You boys should be ready to go by then. Make sure to say goodbye to your father, since he’ll have left by the time I get home.” Mom sent dad a cutting glare that said he’d better be long gone before she returned. Then she smiled sadly at us and dropped the bomb. “Pack anything you can’t live without…we won’t be coming back.”

  CHAPTER 1

  “Get your feet out of my back,” Lucas hissed. Logan promptly removed his foot from where it was pressed into the back of the front seat, slid off his shoe, and put his stinky foot up on the headrest instead. I rolled my eyes, silently snickering. How those two hadn’t killed each other yet was beyond me. And how my mom hadn’t lost her marbles raising the three of us was an entirely different question.

  “How do you interpret take your feet out of my back as please Logan, put your foot next to my face?” Lucas swatted the smelly foot off his seat and it hit the window. Logan yelped in pain, then put it right back up next to the headrest.

  Logan shrugged. “I’m great with language and its interpretation, can’t help it. It’s a gift.”

  “I told you butt head, foot off my seat.” Lucas’s dangerous tone meant business and Logan finally complied.

  “Boys,” my mom warned, “we’re almost there, don’t start that now. How about we listen to something happy? Lucas, you’re in front, you play DJ.”

  Lucas plugged his phone into the auxiliary jack and scrolled through the menu. Ten seconds later, Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven was blaring through the speakers. Mom gave him the evil eye at the same time I reached up and smacked him on the back of the head. She pulled the phone from his hands and handed it back to me. I searched through Lucas’s lame emo music selection to find something less depressing. Lucky for me, he wasn’t completely devoid of taste. I turned on a new song by Weezer.

  “Much better.” Mom smiled at me in the rearview mirror, then started bopping her head to the beat. “You boys looking forward to your summer vacation? Gran and Pop are so excited to see you. I bet Summer and Hunter are too.” Her voice was far too peppy, given the situation.

 

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