over the bolded highlights of the article’s content.
“… I fell in love with a boy—but it took me more than ten years to realize the boy
never grew into a man.”
Ouch.
“I thought if I just said the right things and did all the right girlfriend things, that
he’d love me back. But listen up, ladies: No tips and tricks between these pages
can fix a broken soul. Don’t break yourself trying.”
Broken? He was only broken when he wasn’t with her.
“For a long time I mourned the loneliness of not being in a relationship, but I’d
rather have no romance than be caught in a bad one …”
“Damn it. Damn it!”
Sam didn’t realize he’d spoken out loud until the bartender and the couple to his
left gave him a wary look.
Liam, on the other hand, didn’t look at all surprised.
“So just one question,” Liam said as he took another sip of his whisky. “Exactly
which one of you was going to tell me that you’ve been dating?”
There it was.
The bomb that Sam had been avoiding since the day he’d seen Riley’s skinny,
sexy legs in those damn soccer shorts over ten years earlier. He’d been expecting
a thunderbolt or maybe an earthquake.
At the very least, he’d been prepared for an up-front encounter with Liam’s
knuckles.
Gathering his courage, he turned to look at his best friend, braced for disgust,
anger, betrayal, or all of the above.
Instead he saw …
Curiosity? Maybe even concern.
“It didn’t go well,” Sam muttered, tipping his glass to his lips and staring straight
ahead.
Liam thumped a hand lightly against the magazine article. “Nah. Really?”
“Why aren’t you more mad?” Sam asked. “Or are you just saving it until we step
outside?”
“Well, I am a little mad. Mad that you didn’t tell me. And I’m mad that Riley
apparently wants to barbecue your balls for some reason.”
“But you’re not mad that we … you know …”
“Screwed? No. I mean, I’m totally repulsed. But angry?” Liam considered. “I don’t
think so. I guess I figured it was bound to happen some way. The way you were
always trying so damn hard not to look at her when the rest of the pervs openly
stared.”
Sam’s world tilted a little bit sideways. “But you told me never to touch her. You
made me promise.”
Liam frowned. “When?”
“Over ten years ago! Right after I met Riley for the first time.”
His friend tilted his head, clearly trying to remember. “Huh.”
Huh. Huh? I’ve spent the past decade putting aside my own happiness for
something you can’t even remember?
But …
Was that fair?
Had Sam ever gone to his best friend and said, “Look, I’ve got feelings for your
sister. Thoughts?”
And after he’d acted on those feelings, had he called up his friend and said,
“Punch me if you want, but I’m in love with your sister, and you’ll have to deal.”
Sam choked a little on his whisky.
Love?
Love.
Wait, that wasn’t right. Sam didn’t do love.
Did he?
Liam held up the magazine. “Are you telling me the reason you dumped Riley
and sent her on this man-hating tirade is because you thought I wouldn’t like it?”
Sam wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell Liam and the whole world that he
pushed Riley away because he was a good and loyal friend. Hell, it was part of
what he’d been telling himself.
But it wasn’t true.
Liam’s long-ago don’t-touch-my-sister speech hadn’t been the reason Sam
stayed away from Riley. It had simply been the excuse.
If he’d had half the guts she’d had when she came to him and suggested they act
on what had always been there … if he’d been a little less of a pansy-assed
weenie, maybe he could have had it all.
His friendship with Liam, his relationship with the entire McKenna family … he
could have had the distillery, and hell, even the little dog that had wiggled its way
into his heart in such a short amount of time.
Most important, he could have had Riley.
His eyes fell on her article and her well-deserved disdain. “I’m an idiot.”
Liam nodded once, although he clapped Sam on the shoulder to soften the blow.
“Another drink?”
“Will it make it hurt less?”
Liam looked a little stunned at the admission. “I was about to give you the required
lecture about hurting my baby sister, but now I’m wondering if I need to have a
talk with baby sister about hurting my best friend.”
“No,” Sam said, digging his fingers into his eyes and trying to sort out the