“We’re getting married.”
“Squee! OMG! How? When? When did he ask, and how did he ask you?”
“Well, we’d already said we would, but he asked in an un-cheesy way, or I’d have flung the ring back at him,” I say, looking down at my ring, then up at my man, who’s lying with his arms crossed behind his head, the bedsheets barely reaching his waist.
“If you’re telling me Grey’s proposal was cheesy when he told me flat out we were getting married, you are deranged—it was the best, most un-cheesy proposal I’ve heard.”
“Kenna proposed in bed, while . . . you know . . . insert your most volcanic fantasies here . . .”
“Wow, that is un-cheesy. Not something to tell the kids, huh?”
“Just get over here!”
“Be there in a bit.”
Then I call Brooke and Remy.
“You’re getting married! Remington! Guess who’s getting married?”
He briefly grabs the phone. “Congratulations, you two.”
Soon Melanie appears, her intimidating boyfriend by her side. “Maleficent, getting married?!” She hugs me with her usual mix of glee and tenderness, and we rock in each other’s arms while our men have no other choice but to introduce themselves.
“Greyson,” I hear Melanie’s fiancé say. “Congratulations, man.”
“Mackenna,” Kenna offers, slapping and shaking hands.
“God! Look at this ring, it’s obscene! One seriously obscene ring, Kenna, you did good!” Melanie says in complete delight. “Greyson, have you seen anything so pretty?”
“Never,” Greyson murmurs, but I notice he’s looking at Melanie, not my ring.
Mackenna quickly pulls me over to one of the living room couches. Greyson and Melanie settle on the opposite one, and we have a great time swapping meeting stories and celebrating. Even Kyle stops by with his girlfriend to toast with us.
Later, the men start talking about their respective businesses and I find myself asking Melanie for good ideas for a wedding reception. She can’t even believe it’s actually me asking.
“Seriously, this is almost creepy, Pan!” she swears.
We laugh it off and so does Kyle’s girlfriend, Terry, and soon, my grin starts to hurt on my face. All this time, I feel Kenna’s hand moving on my bare arm and shoulder—a gentle reminder that he’s by my side even though he’s talking to the boys and I’m talking to the girls.
I keep stealing touches, squeezing his hand, rubbing his hard thigh—just so he knows I don’t forget for a second who I’m with from now on.
That night, I slide into bed with my guy and start kissing him with all the passion I feel. I nibble on his jaw and slide my hands over his sexy buzz cut and press as close as I can get. I nibble on his lone diamond earring and then on the ear where my ring-diamond used to be. There, I whisper what I used to be so afraid of saying. I didn’t say “I love you” for so many years, yet now I can’t say it enough. I can’t hear it enough. And Kenna shows no signs of asking me to shut up either. He rolls me beneath his body and takes control of the situation, with one sure, perfect move, getting up as close and deep as possible to me.
One day later, it’s Sunday morning and we’re listening to I Heart Radio, like we usually do when we wake up. Then it happens.
“So, now we get to hear the first single from Crack Bikini’s new album. This is ‘Lullaby.’ ” And suddenly we both grow quiet. And there, in his arms—where I feel loved and accepted, warm and safe, wanted and forgiven—I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat with one ear, and his song with the other.
Young and in love
We thought we were invincible
If you’re lonely or sad
Need to feel someone’s there
Precious baby, let me sing you our lullaby
Let me sing you this lullaby
You may be five or six next year
You may be fifteen in a second
Growing up in a record
Lipstick, girlfriends, boyfriends, first times
It hurts we will never be a part of that
We couldn’t give you what you needed
Couldn’t keep you by our sides
But, baby girl, we can give you
All our love, right in this one lullaby
Your mom and I
Thought you’d have a better life
We were broken, young, and wild
Our sweet girl, you will never know why
But for this moment here’s a lullaby
We’d turn back the clock
I’d man up and stop
Make sure you knew who you were
You were hers and mine
But time, that’s something we never recover
Mistakes we make, promises we break
Things we can never get over
So here I stand
Hoping you can understand
It wasn’t you; it was us
Nothing wrong with you
Our little baby girl
You were perfect; you still are
So here’s your lullaby
“ ‘Lullaby,’ ” the voice on the radio crackles in. “Already topping the charts as the singer and his fiancée hold a worldwide search for all the girls born on January 22, five years ago . . .”
Tears trek silently down my cheeks while Mackenna quietly cups my face and lets them fall into his palms. “What will we do when we find her?” My voice breaking, I swallow. “We can’t take her away from her real parents now. But we can’t not try to be a part of her life in some way.”
“We’ll do whatever she wants,” he promises me—and his eyes, they look as wolfish as ever.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, this book would not be possible without a tremendous amount of help from an amazing number of wonderful people.
With immense gratitude to my supportive family, my husband, my children, my parents.
To all my author friends who both beta read and cheer, or pass on the Kleenex for the tears (you guys know who you are!), and who I cherish more than words can say.
To the very special Kelli, CeCe, Angie, Ryn, Kati D, and Dana, who helped me prep this baby and always have the best, most amazing feedback for me.
To my editor, Adam Wilson, my publisher, Jen Bergstrom, and their hardworking team at Gallery Books—thank you for supporting my work, getting it on those bookshelves, and working with me to make it the best possible.
To Amy, truly, you are a dream agent, and I am blessed to have you in my life.
And to you, reading this right now, thank you. You let my words touch you, and now I live to try and do just that.
Katy
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hey! I’m Katy Evans, and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to leave a review and help readers find the REAL series, I’d appreciate it so much. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet. I’d love to hear from you!
Katy XO
Website: www.katyevans.net
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorKatyEvans
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorkatyevans
E-mail: authorkatyevans@gmail.com
To get a text reminder of Katy’s newest releases, text REALSERIES to 313131.
ALSO BY KATY EVANS
REAL
MINE
REMY
ROGUE
Gallery Books
A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of th
e author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 by Katy Evans
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Gallery Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.
First Gallery Books trade paperback edition December 2014
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Designed by Davina Mock-Maniscalco
Cover design by Sarah Hansen
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-1-4767-5562-5
ISBN 978-1-4767-5565-6 (ebook)
CONTENTS
Ripped Playlist
Chapter One: Secrets
Chapter Two: The Witch Forgot the Broom but Not the Fucking Tomato Bag
Chapter Three: Looks Like I’m Going to Have to Kiss the Frog
Chapter Four: When Life Was Good
Chapter Five: Hazed
Chapter Six: I Knew She’d Scramble My Brains
Chapter Seven: Big Dose of Reality
Chapter Eight: The Past Doesn’t Always Stay in Its Place
Chapter Nine: Dancing to Their Tune
Chapter Ten: Concert Time
Chapter Eleven: There Are Bullies Around, and by “Bully” I Don’t Mean Me
Chapter Twelve: There’s Always That One Asshole Stone You Trip on Twice
Chapter Thirteen: It Pays to Be Patient, and Good Things Come with Silver Eyes
Chapter Fourteen: Plans
Chapter Fifteen: A Road Trip with a Rock God
Chapter Sixteen: Feels Like a Honeymoon Except We’re Not Honeys. ARE WE?!?!
Chapter Seventeen: Back with the Band
Chapter Eighteen: Meeting Up with Friends
Chapter Nineteen: Let Go
Chapter Twenty: Pandora’s Box
Chapter Twenty-One: Rockstar in Waiting
Chapter Twenty-Two: My Friend Melanie Says Not to Wait for Prince Charming—He Could Be Stuck at a Concert
Chapter Twenty-Three: Ends and Beginnings
Chapter Twenty-Four: Sparkling Shiny New Life
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author