I lean over the side of the bed again.

Reese is curled up on her side, facing in my direction. Her dark lashes cast a shadow over her pale cheek, her hair a riot of sleek, dark waves spread above her.

She’s really quite beautiful. In all the ways that matter.

15

Life itself is worth living for. If you’re not living the life that you want, you fight for that life.

—Jensen Ackles

Reese

For the first time in, well, ever, I can’t wait for class to be over, and I head immediately to Jude’s once my last class concludes.

I tell myself it’s because it’s not a competition day and I’m looking forward to a quiet night for once, but it’s not entirely the truth.

The truth is, I can’t wait to see Fitz.

We’re actually—dare I say it?—friends.

“So, what’s up with you and Fitz?”

Speaking of friends, Annabel has become a common fixture at Jude’s as well.

We’re sitting on the back deck, enjoying the late-afternoon breeze while lounging on a couple of ragtag patio chairs.

It’s Fitz’s turn to cook and he’s grilling burgers and hot dogs. Luckily for me, he’s inside getting the cheese for the burgers and a drink for me, so he misses Annabel’s probing question.

I glance at the open sliding door before turning back to Annabel. “Nothing is up with us.”

“Y’all hated each other and yet now everyone’s all cozy, sleeping in the same room, acting like the best of friends.”

“Hardly the best of friends.”

“Boloney. He asked if you needed anything before going inside and completely ignored his own sister. I’m family. And I’m thirsty.”

“You’ve also sided with me during this whole thing and not Fitz.”

She waves a hand. “Eh. We’re not talking about Fitz and me, we’re talking about Fitz and you.”

Beast ducks through the patio door and hands Annabel a glass of ice water before moving off to a chair on the side of the deck.

“How do you know these things?” Annabel yells at him.

Jude comes out behind him, Mr. Bojangles curled up in one arm. “He’s not deaf, Bel.”

“Stop calling me Bel.”

“Would you rather I call you Anna?”

“Ugh no, I would prefer you call me by my actual name.”

“At least he doesn’t call you babies.” Fitz pops out behind Jude, serving plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He hands me the glass before heading over to the grill, setting the platter to the side and popping the lid open. “Why don’t you call her babies? You call everyone else that.”

Jude shrugs. “When’s dinner ready?”

Fitz and I share a raised-brow glance.

He totally avoided the question.

“Few minutes,” Fitz says.

“I’m famished.”

Dinner is eaten outside, balancing paper plates on our laps while Jude and Annabel bicker and Fitz and I share smiles and Beast . . . well, he eats and listens, I suppose.

The breeze tickles my nose and I shut my eyes to enjoy the sun. When I open them again, Fitz and I lock eyes and share a smile and something flutters in my stomach.