Page 228 of The Friends and Rivals Collection

HER PROLOGUE

Vanessa

Is there any sadder adjective to describe a man you’re jonesing for than off-limits ?

Okay, fine. There might be a few worse qualities in a guy, like woefully dumb, boring AF, and, say, rude to his mama.

Also, dislikes dogs.

For the record, no dog-disliker is getting under my skirt.

But let’s say you really dig a guy. The last thing you want is for him to be unavailable.

That’s the trouble with Shaw. That’s always been the trouble with him, ever since I crushed hard on the guy way back in seventh grade.

I fell for him because he cracked me up.

Like that time in history class, when we were studying the English monarchy and he raised his hand and asked in an intensely curious voice, “Excuse me, Mr. Wabash. Which king of England invented fractions?”

Mr. Wabash turned from the board, his white chalk suspended mid-stroke, his brow furrowed, and said, “I’m not sure that was a king of England.”

Shaw leaned back in his chair, a naughty grin creeping across his thirteen-year-old face, and coolly quipped, “It was Henry the Fourth.”

I chuckled.

Maybe I laughed loudly.

Fine, I snorted.

We were both sent to the school office, where he proceeded to fire off round after round of jokes in a murmur as we waited side by side for the principal.

How did the Vikings send secret messages?

By Norse code.

Why should you never trust an atom?

Because they make everything up.

They were corny jokes, but hey, that was comedy gold in seventh grade.

The principal called us into his chambers and folded his hands the way annoyed adults do. He reprimanded Shaw for disturbing the class and rebuked me for laughing too loud.

He sent us back to class with a warning.

I was so glad Shaw was only eleven months older than his sister, putting the three of us in the same grade in school.

He kept up his cute jester routine all through high school, during college when he became more of a sexy jester to me, and even now, as I’m pushing thirty. Like when he juggled five rawhide bones at his parents’ house a few months ago. Their dog was quite taken with his skills.

Or when he performed a comedy act at the fireman talent show last year. Though, in all honesty, I spent most of his routine focusing on his V line rather than his punch line.

He was shirtless. I had no choice.

Big surprise that somewhere along the way, I fell for him.

For his humor, for his heart, and for his big, strong body.

That’s the problem.

He’s fall-for-able, and I’m not the only woman who’s noticed.

The ladies love him, and he seems to love them too.

So, stolen kiss or two aside, I simply can’t think about him any longer.

For many reasons, but first and foremost, this—he’s my best friend Perri’s brother. She’s never said it to me, but I know she doesn’t want me with him. And I hate keeping secrets from her.

I must be done with this years-in-the-making secret.

So when I have the chance to meet a new guy who’s coming back to town, a man who’s simply perfect for me, I seize the opportunity.

So what if there are nearly two decades of longing for my best friend’s brother to get over?