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Back First Comes Love Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. First
  2. Love Connection
  3. Zero
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. One Month Later
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Six Months Later
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-one
  27. Twenty-two
  28. Twenty-three
  29. Twenty-four
  30. Six Months Later
  31. Twenty-five
  32. Twenty-six
  33. Twenty-seven
  34. Twenty-eight
  35. Twenty-nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-one
  38. Thirty-two
  39. Thirty-three
  40. I Have Never
  41. One
  42. Two
  43. Three
  44. Four
  45. Five
  46. Six
  47. Seven
  48. Eight
  49. Nine
  50. Ten
  51. Eleven
  52. Twelve
  53. Thirteen
  54. Fourteen
  55. Fifteen
  56. Sixteen
  57. Seventeen
  58. Eighteen
  59. Nineteen
  60. Twenty
  61. Twenty-one
  62. Twenty-two
  63. A Christmas Date
  64. One
  65. Two
  66. Three
  67. Four
  68. Five
  69. Six
  70. Seven
  71. Eight
  72. Nine
  73. Ten
  74. Eleven
  75. Twelve
  76. Thirteen
  77. Fourteen
  78. Fifteen
  79. Sixteen
  80. Seventeen
  81. Eighteen
  82. Nineteen
  83. Twenty
  84. Twenty-one
  85. Twenty-two
  86. Note from the Author
  87. Sneak Peek – To the Stars and Back
  88. Two
  89. Three
  90. Four
  91. Also by Camilla Isley
  92. About the Author

“Are you sure you’re not mad I didn’t invite you to the party?”

“Blair, I’m not mad.”

I’m so mad I want to strangle her.

“It’s just that it’s all couples,” she repeats for the hundredth time. “You would’ve felt awkward, I’m sure. What with being the only person with no one to kiss at midnight?”

True, I would’ve hated it. And I also would’ve rather cut off my right arm than go to an all-couples New Year’s party. But that’s not the point. As my best friend, she should’ve begged me to go with her, and insisted that I go at least a few times after my every stubborn “no.”

“Really, it’s no trouble,” I lie. “You know I hate couples’ dinners.”

“Well.” Blair coats her lips in a bold shade of burgundy, smacks them together, and stares in the mirror, satisfied. “It’s not going to be exactly a boring dinner. Richard’s friend is famous for throwing the best parties.”

Oh, I gasp inside my head, what a bitch!

I get that her life is perfect, and she has the perfect boyfriend, and that they’re going to the best New Year’s party in the city. But does she really have to rub it in my face? Tonight, I don’t recognize my best friend. Not as the kind and loving person who has been super supportive since we came back to New York. No idea what happened to turn on her mean girl switch, but it’d better turn back off quickly if she wants us to still be friends next year.

Pretending I’m busy with the flat iron cord, I turn away from her to hide my seething look of outrage.

“Cool party or not, it’s still going to be a cheesy PDA shit show,” I say, harsher than I meant.

“Right,” Blair agrees. “I’d so rather spend the night in watching TV than having to get all dressed up and go out in the cold for a whole night of partying.”

As she says this, she pulls on the expensive new dress Richard brought her from London and admires how it perfectly hugs her figure in the mirror. She doesn’t look like someone who’d rather spend the night in and order takeout pizza for dinner.

She twirls around once, and then turns toward me. “Mind getting the zipper?”

“Not at all.” I pull the back of her dress together and slash the zipper up in one rough movement.

“Hey,” Blair protests. “Careful there, I don’t want to rip the dress off.” Then she winks at me through the mirror. “Not unless it’s Richard doing it later tonight.”

I swear, I want to take her head and smash it in the mirror until she shuts the hell up.