Page 5 of The Snuggle Is Real

I can’t resist Malcolm’s pleading smile.

“You are tall, dark, and handsome,” I tell him.

“And you’re my favorite person on earth,” he says.

I fight the urge to sigh.

Instead, I stand up. “In our horror themed TV show, this would be foreshadowing our kidnapping.”

Malcolm grins. “Welcome to Wanted, Emily. I owe you one.”

Chapter Two

Malcolm

I mentally ran the numbers on this weekend eleven different ways.

In every one of them, Emily ends up furious with me.

The only open question is when. I’m actually shocked it hasn’t already happened.

We’ve never shared a hotel room before when we’ve attended weddings together.

And I’ve never asked her to pretend that we’re dating. But so far, she’s rolling with it.

It’s why I love being around Emily. Our friendship doesn’t have expectations or standards I can’t meet. She’s never disappointed if I'm late or if I’m interrupted when we’re hanging out because she’s just as likely to be the one getting an urgent work call. We are almost exactly alike, which is how I know at some point she will be tired of acting the part of my girlfriend and will get mad at me.

"You're doing the jaw thing," she says from the passenger seat of my truck. She's holding her disappointing coffee in both hands and keeps sniffing it, as if she’s waiting for the pumpkin spice fairies to embellish it.

"I don't have a jaw thing."

"You have a jaw thing. You clench it when you're doing something you don't like. You did it through all of junior year Finance. And the entire time you were dating Nicole Bartle."

"Junior year Finance was fine. Nicole was a mistake." Just the memory makes me shudder.

"You got an A-minus in Finance and grieved like someone had died. You barely noticed when Nicole broke up with you, even though she screamed at you on the quad saying that you had the emotional intelligence of a cumquat."

That makes me laugh. “I totally forgot about that part.”

“See what I mean?”

“Fair enough.” There's no point arguing with a woman who has fifteen years of evidence on me.

The road out to MacKay and Faith's place winds through the Kentucky hills, past our distillery, Four Brothers Bourbon. There are only two lanes with no shoulder and the kind of dark you forget exists when you spend most of your life under fluorescent lights and spreadsheets like I do.

My three brothers and I weren't raised in the country. We grew up a little outside of Nashville in an outer suburb. But Faith is a country girl from bayou country in Louisiana and after about five minutes in Nashville, she realized she prefers the outskirts of Wanted.

MacKay prefers her, so he bought her land.

It’s been interesting watching my brothers, MacKay, Dylan, and Ian, all find their person and fall in love. I’m thrilled for all three of them. They found great women who complement them and I know they’re all really damn happy.

It almost makes me feel like I missed the boat. I’m the oldest and I’ve never even come close to getting married.

The thought makes me glance over at Emily.

She has her window cracked. Her hair keeps blowing across her face and she keeps shoving it back with one hand. I keep noticing, which is a problem I intend to solve by not noticing anymore. Or at least trying not to notice.

So far I’m failing miserably.