Page 1 of Let’s Be Real

Chapter One

Samantha

Will always drove like a bat out of hell. Since our very first date, when I’d allowed him to pick me up—against every one of my instincts and the chagrin of smart women everywhere—he’d been in a rush. He hated being late with the passion of a thousand burning suns, and if anyone got in his way…well, he simply didn’t allow it. He would have mowed down a nun if it meant getting to his destination five minutes sooner.

It was a funny habit. Almost endearing, if my life hadn’t been in constant danger the last six months.

I had been clinging to my seat as he sped around curves, narrowly missing pedestrians, when my phone signaled an incoming text, then another, and another.

Will took his eyes from the road to glance at me. “Let me guess who’s texting you.”

My fingers were gripping so hard they left imprints when I let go. I would have held on to the oh-shit handle above my window, but Will found that insulting, like I didn’t have confidence in his driving abilities.

He was a perfectly skilled driver. In fact, he would have done well on a racecourse. His driving style combined with busy Denver streets, however, I wasn’t sure mixed well.

But I didn’t say that. He didn’t find jokes about our imminent death funny. I’d learned that early too.

I dug in my purse for my phone, frowning at the screen.

Ade: I’m dying, Sammie.

Ade: Fever, chills, the works. It’s embarrassing.

Ade: You know I hate bothering you, but I could use some help.

Leave it to Adrian Wells to be embarrassed over being sick. Truth be told, I couldn’t remember him ever having more than a cold, and even then, he’d banish the germs as quickly as they’d take hold. Knowing Adrian, he probably scowled at them until they scampered off, terrified.

Sighing, I texted him back.

Me: You absolutely love to bother me. What kind of help do you need?

Ade: True. But only because I know how much you enjoy being needed.

Will took a sharp turn, and my shoulder crashed into my door, my phone nearly flying out of my hand. I hadn’t been prepared, and a little shriek slipped out before I could bite it back.

He grunted, flexing his fingers around the wheel. “Really, Samantha? Don’t be so dramatic.”

I straightened, clutching my phone tight in my hand. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. The turn took me by surprise. Are we late?”

His exhale was as heavy as a bull’s. “What does Adrian want?”

“We haven’t gotten to that yet. He said he’s sick, which isn’t something he would willingly admit unless he was feeling really poorly.”

Me: Thanks for doing me a favor.

Ade: Anything for you.

Me: Was there a reason for this text, or did you just want to disrupt my evening?

Ade: The disruption is a bonus, especially if you’re with the douche. I need medicine. Whatever shit will make me stop shaking.

Adrian had liked exactly one of my boyfriends, and that was back in high school. Barely scraping five and a half feet—a full six inches shorter than me—Simon Mills, captain of the chess team, had worshiped the ground I walked on. Adrian had approved of him wholeheartedly.

As most high school relationships went, we’d lasted a semester, and I was almost certain Adrian had been more distraught over our breakup than Simon. Then again, I’d immediately begun dating a soccer player named Jake, whose last name I’d long ago forgotten. Adrian had not enjoyed getting dragged to all his matches, but as my lifelong best friend, he went because it was his job. He’d also joined the chess club, saying it was to spite me and my terrible taste in boys, but he couldn’t explain away becoming the president after Simon graduated. And being his best friend, I never pressed him on it.

Adrian disliking Will was no different than all the others who’d come before him. And, like most of my previous boyfriends, the feeling was mutual. Will didn’t trust Adrian. He didn’t like all the time we spent with each other, and he really didn’t approve of our inside jokes and playful banter. The few times I’d tried to bring them together hadn’t gone well, so I’d stopped trying.

Me: Do you have a fever?