K.L. Walther

“Nice try, baby.”

“Oranges,” I murmured.

“My shampoo,” Wit murmured back.

“I love oranges.”

“So you love me.”

“I don’t want to be ‘pretty’ to you,” I tried again. “It means nothing. It’s sanitized and superficial.” I reached for one of his hands and squeezed it tight. “You pay me the most wonderful compliments. You say such interesting things no one has ever said before, like how affectionate I am, and smart and clever…and I can’t even tell you how good that makes me feel.”

You’ll apologize tomorrow—apologize for shutting her out, apologize for going off the grid.

“Stephen!” Claire had giggled. “His name will be Stephen!”

“Stephen?”

“Stephen.”

when the mystery man turned, it took everything to force my feet forward and put on a pleasant smile

You gotta maul my face even more?”

My breath caught in my throat.

Crap.

“And I’d just been on the phone with—”

“Your shithead ex,”

“I also wanted to escape the best man and maid of honor banging in the next room.”

Summer after summer, Claire used an ax to keep track of her victories. “I’m going to win,” I whispered once I’d reached the final mark. “I’m going to win this thing.”