*
Hunter
“So, dude. Be straight with me. What can I do to get in good with Sandy?”
Great.
I was with Avery in the formal wear shop, getting fitted for a rental for that evening. It turned out that Avery had not had something that would fit me just fine, as Acacia had been so sure he would. Nope. In fact, as it turned out, he was both taller and wider in the shoulders than I was.
Which was exactly what you wanted to find out about the chief rival for the love-of-your-life’s affection.
So, as I stood in the shop with him, I was already feeling pretty not-awesome, as you can well imagine, before he’d asked me for advice about how to replace me in Sandy’s heart. And her pants.
It was just a fantastic moment all around.
Sarcasm aside, I actually did consider for a moment giving him the worst advice ever with the purpose of sabotaging his chances with Sandy.
Sure, she absolutely loves it when you correct her in front of other people. It shows how smart you are, and she respects that.
Her favorite thing is when you don’t compliment her about how she looks. It keeps her guessing. She doesn’t like guys who fawn all over her. She wants to be kept on her toes.
She would never respect a guy who didn’t assert his strong opinions and tell her that she’s wrong if she disagrees with you. So, definitely tell her what she’s allowed to drink, eat, and wear. She may grumble about it in the moment, but it’ll make her hot in the long run.
She’s absolutely fascinated when guys go on and on about their hobbies and interests she doesn’t share. Really, her eyes may look like they’re glazing over, but in reality, she’s just concentrating and enjoying all of the new things you have to teach her. Seriously. You should give long speeches about the minutia of World of Warcraft. Focus on gold farming. She loves that shit. Don’t let the expression on her face fool you. Just power on.
But shit. Even if Avery would’ve fallen for that crap—which he definitely wouldn’t have—I didn’t have the heart to lie to him. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was just a nice, sincere dude who happened to have the good sense to want exactly the same thing I wanted. Sandy. And any red-blooded American male in their right mind would want her. She was fucking spectacular.
Still, though I wasn’t going to out and out sabotage him, that didn’t mean I had to give him anything that would actually help him. I could make my advice as generic as possible. Call me the Ann Landers of bullshit.
“Well, it’s hard to say what Sandy is gonna like from one minute to the next, honestly. She’s pretty spontaneous. But one thing I will tell you is that she has strong reactions to things. She doesn’t make any big mystery of how she feels, either. She’s not a game-player like a lot of other girls. If she’s pissed about something, believe me, you’ll know it. But the opposite is true, too. If something makes her happy, you don’t have to wonder. She’ll let you know.”
Avery nodded, thoughtful. “So…what kinds of things make her happy?”
I shrugged. Shit. If I knew some big secret, some magic key to opening her heart—and her pants—didn’t he think I would’ve used it for myself already? I didn’t know what he expected me to say.
“I mean…she likes roses. And she prefers white wine over red. In fact, she likes anything that’s sweet. Is that the kind of stuff you’re talking about?”
Avery pulled his phone out of his back pocket and started typing furiously. “Yeah, yeah. This is good stuff. Keep it comin’.”
Well, God dammit. I’d made the mistake of starting to get too specific. Now, I really was going to be handing him details that might legitimately help him out with Sandy. Why did I have to be such a helpful and compassionate guy? Seriously. Being a good guy. It’s a fucking curse.
“I guess…her favorite color is yellow. It reminds her of things that are bright and sunshiny. Kind of like her personality.”
He nodded and smiled as he continued to type. “Yeah, yeah. That’s one of the things I like best about her.”
Okay. Good guy or not, I couldn’t take this anymore. I was shutting it down. “Yeah. You know, this seems kind of weird. Like I’m giving you an unfair advantage to, I don’t know, trick her or something. I think, just…Sandy likes people who are themselves. Really. Just be yourself. She’ll give you a chance.”
He looked up sheepishly as he put his phone back in his pocket. “Yeah, yeah. Totally. I get that. And, obviously, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m not usually like this about girls. Something about her is just different, you know?”
Yeah. I knew.
He pushed on, apparently not noticing my miserable expression. “It’s like, I feel like, if I don’t make an impression, I could regret it forever. Because she’s the kind of person you meet and, within ten seconds, you know you’ve never met anybody like her before, and you probably never will again. So you just become, like, desperate to get her to notice you, to get her attention. Because, if she’s that special and she chooses to shine some of the spotlight of her attention on you, then that must mean that you’re special, too. Right?”
Yeah. I knew exactly what he meant. That’s how I had felt about Sandy when we’d sat next to each other in first grade, and it was how I’d felt about her every single day since. I’d just never thought to put it in those words before.
“Yeah, I get it. That’s actually a really good way to describe it.”
“Psychology major,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Well, it shows.”
He flashed a self-deprecating grin. “For what my tuition costs, it ought to.”
Shit.
What I didn’t tell him, and what I was reluctant to even admit to myself, was that he didn’t need any inside information or tricks to get Sandy’s attention. Just the fact that he was who he was, that he had what he had, and came from the kind of family that he came from—those things were enough to grab and keep Sandy’s attention. The fact that he could offer her the kind of life she’d always dreamed of, the kind of life she deserved, moving in glamorous circles, far away from Arcata…
That would be enough.
And that fucking sucked.
Chapter 19
Sandy
I dabbed on the final touches of lip gloss and examined myself in Acacia’s gorgeous mirror with filigree around the edges, and soft lighting emanating outward from the built-in sconces surrounding it. I didn’t know if it was the fancy lighting or my excitement about the event that evening, but I liked what I saw staring back at me in the mirror. I looked damn good, if I do say so myself. The dress Acacia and I had picked out was stunning. It hit my curves in all the right places, and I felt like a million bucks wearing it, which increased my confidence to sky-high levels.
I’ve heard people say that there is no better aphrodisiac than confidence, but I would argue that there is also no better beauty product than confidence. My skin was glowing. My cheeks were more radiant than any blusher alone could’ve made them. My lips were dewy and supple in a way that surpassed what even the most magical lip gloss on the market could’ve ever achieved.
Yep. Confidence. If only somebody could bottle that shit and sell it, they’d make a mint.
“Okay, come on. It’s time! The boys are waiting for us downstairs. We’ve gotta go.”
A few nervous butterflies skated through my stomach, but I was excited to get the evening started. I stood up, and Acacia hooked her arm through mine. We walked out of her room and down the hall together. She stopped us just short of the top of the stairwell.
“Okay, boys!” she called, her voice resonating through the cavernous entryway at the bottom of the staircase. “We’re about to make a grand entrance! You have ten seconds to gather at the bottom of the stairs, and fair warning: you’d better be prepared to be suitably impressed!”
I giggled, and Acacia joined in.
“There’s something to be said for being clear about your expectations,” I said.
> “That’s always been my policy,” she agreed.
After waiting the requisite ten seconds, Acacia and I stepped dramatically into view at the top of the staircase. I liked the theatricality of the whole thing. It was exactly what I’d always imagined making my grand entrance for a night as special as this one would be like.
We started slowly down the stairs, side by side, holding onto the railing that was nearest to our side. The staircase was slightly curved, arcing in a dramatic sweep as it led down to the main floor. Avery’s eyes locked onto me, moving appreciatively from head to toe and then back up again, then he put his fingers to his lips and let out a whistle.
Hunter looked at me as well, but then his eyes shot to Acacia. He grinned widely and started to clap, and Avery joined in soon after.
The applause continued through our entire journey to the bottom of the stairs—which, if I were to be completely honest, I would have to say that I did not hate, not even one little bit. In fact, it felt pretty damn good.
What didn’t feel pretty damn good? That would be the way that Hunter had moved his gaze quickly on from me and right on to Acacia, where it stayed the entire time.
Was I jealous? Yes, maybe. Sure. I could admit that.
It’s not that I resented it in any logical or meaningful way. After all, I was the one who always insisted that Hunter and I could never be together. And I still stood by that…ya know…mostly.
It was a visceral reaction. Regardless of the fact that Hunter was there as Acacia’s date or that it would’ve been rude and disrespectful of him to spend his time ogling me instead of Acacia when I was actually Avery’s date, it still stung in a deep part of my heart to have Hunter looking at any girl besides me and obviously liking what he saw.
I wasn’t a fan.
Acacia reached the bottom of the staircase first, and Hunter put his hand out so that she could slip hers into it and let him escort her down the last few steps of the staircase.
“You look beautiful,” he told her.
Jealousy. Just…burning. Just…internal flames. Eating me from the inside. Just…consuming me with the white-hot heat of a supernova.
No biggie.
I took comfort in the fact that his smile didn’t reach his eyes the way it did when he looked at me. I’d never seen the look in his eyes for another girl that he had for me. But that was a small comfort, comparatively.
I decided that I would focus on Avery. I was there as his date, after all, and he was certainly no slouch in either the looks or charm departments. I turned to him and put my hand into his as I stepped down. His smile was wide and filled with awe, which made me feel nice. I was still a girl, after all, and I liked to have my efforts appreciated when I had gone to all the trouble to get dressed up. Having them appreciated by someone as suave and worldly as Avery was just the bonus icing on the awesome cake.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, simply and sincerely.
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself,” I said with a wink.
I was impressed with Avery’s delivery. I’ve heard it said that the highest-quality things in life are often the simplest, but executed with perfection. I knew from watching Food Network competition shows—which I was freaking obsessed with—that this was true with food. Simple, fresh ingredients that were prepared perfectly, always got the highest praise from the judges.
Maybe the same thing was true in life as well. That small, simple, direct statement from Avery, delivered with such obvious sincerity, expressed more to me than the thousands of other fumbling, embellished comments I’d gotten from other guys throughout the years.
I decided that I was going to try to implement the philosophy in my own life. If I ever wanted to really get the point across to someone when I was complimenting them, to really let them know how I felt, I would do it the same way Avery had just done it: deliver a simple, direct statement while looking right into their eyes with every bit of the sincerity in my heart.
I liked it.
Avery held his elbow out, and I slipped my arm through it.
“The limo is waiting for us outside,” he said. “Shall we?”
Oh hell, yes. He had me at “limo,” first of all. But I’d been waiting my entire life for someone to look at me gallantly and say, “Shall we?”
I couldn’t help but wish, though, even as I loved every other part of the moment, that the guy asking me to accompany him out to the waiting limo was the one currently accompanying Acacia.
*
Hunter
We all piled into the limo, first me and Acacia, then Sandy, then Avery. When we were all settled, Acacia knocked on the partition that separated our seating area from the driver’s seat up front. It noiselessly slid down, and Acacia said, “Okay, Archer. We’re ready. We can take off.”
The driver nodded and replied, “Very good, ma’am.” Then the partition slid back up just as noiselessly.
“Ma’am?” I teased Acacia.
She rolled her eyes. “Trust me. He wouldn’t call me that if he didn’t have to. I’m no proper young lady, much to Mother and Daddy’s everlasting disappointment. But mostly Mother’s.”
Avery laughed. This must’ve been an ongoing topic in their family.
“But like the non-ladylike individual that I am, I’d rather not think about that right now and, instead, would rather get a buzz on. Anybody with me?”
We all nodded, and Sandy even said, “Hell, yes!”
Acacia pointed at her. “Girl after my own heart.”
Avery opened the mini fridge next to his seat. “Pop always keeps this thing stocked with microbrews from local breweries. Hope that sounds good to everybody.”
He handed the beers out to me and Acacia and took one for himself. Then he handed Sandy a small bottle that looked different from ours. It was the same size as a beer bottle but shaped more like a wine bottle, and was filled with golden, sparkling liquid.
Avery smiled as he gave it to her. “This is for you, darlin’. Sweets for my sweet. I thought this may be slightly more to your liking than a bitter old beer. It’s Moscato, a sweet, white varietal bottled at a vineyard that belongs to a friend of our family.”
Sandy’s face lit up. “My God! I love sweet things, especially wine! That’s so amazing! And so thoughtful. Thank you so much.”
Dammit. I knew I shouldn’t have given him those tips. He was taking off and running with them—which, of course, was exactly what I would’ve done. It wasn’t like I could hold that against him. But it felt pretty shitty to have to watch it unfold right in front of my eyes.
I looked over at Acacia. She was beautiful—there was no disputing that. Her glossy black hair was a shiny contrast to her smooth, light skin. Her eyes shone, and her elfin features were perfectly formed. She was a true beauty, no denying it. It was ridiculous that I wasn’t thankful to be there with her. Thousands of other guys would’ve given their left nut to be on a date with a girl who was as gorgeous, funny, and spunky as Acacia.
Not to mention she clearly liked me. That was a bonus in and of itself.
But the fact remained: she wasn’t Sandy. That was the be-all and end-all of the entire argument against her.
She wasn’t Sandy.
I made up my mind to put the whole Sandy-and-Avery thing out of my mind and enjoy the evening with Acacia, the girl I was actually there with. Dance with the one who brung ya, as my grandpa would’ve said. But, still, I had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
Chapter 20
Sandy
“Are you having a good time?” Acacia fretted. “I know these things can be so boring. And what with the boys going off to smoke cigars with my father’s friends, I don’t want you to feel like Avery abandoned you.”
She needn’t have worried. With everything there was to look at, being left on my own was the last thing on my mind. This was like a fairytale world for me. The fancy country club building, the swanky people in their gorgeous dresses and tuxes, and the delectable-looking trays full
of hors d’oeuvres and cocktails that were passing us by—it was like a smorgasbord of sights for me to feast my eyes on. Bored wasn’t even on the list of things I could possibly be. Still, I didn’t want to act like too much of a hick around Acacia; make her think that I’d been raised in a barn or something. So I decided to try and play it cool.
“It’s no big deal. The boys are fine to go off and have their fun. We can do a little girl talking.”
Acacia’s face lit up, and she clapped her hands in front of her.
Crap. I realized, too late to take the words back, that she was going to take that as an invitation to gossip about Hunter. I did not want to talk about him. It was too late now, though. I was going to have to grin and bear it.
“Oh, good! That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Girl, could you believe the way my brother’s face lit up when he watched you walking down the stairs? He is smitten. There’s no two ways about it.”
I blushed. As a matter of fact, I had noticed, and I liked it. No surprise. Attention from a good-looking, charming, sophisticated guy was always going to feel good. I was glad that she was focusing on that topic and not the one I didn’t want to talk about—namely, the appreciative look on Hunter’s face as he’d watched her descending the stairs.
“That’s really sweet of you to say,” I said. “I mean, he’s only just met me though. How smitten could he really be? He doesn’t even know me very well.”
Acacia waved her hand. “Oh, honey, please. That doesn’t make a bit of difference. Mother and Daddy fell in love at first sight and were married just six weeks later. In my family, we have a history of going after what we want.”
Whoa. Was that fluttering in my belly excitement over the thought that Avery might like me? Or was it jealousy over the thought that, when Acacia talked about going after what she wanted, that might mean Hunter?
I tried to put that out of my mind and focus on the conversation. In order to do that, though, a change of topic was definitely in order.
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