Chapters (63)
- THE AMERICANA PLAYBOOK
- Dear Reader
- The Troubled Teen Industry
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- New England Rebels
- Day 44
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Day 55
- Chapter 5
- TWO MONTHS LATER
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Day 68
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Day 78
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Day 84
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Day 91
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Day 100
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Day 113
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Day 128
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Day 147
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Epilogue
- ONE MONTH LATER
- FIVE YEARS LATER
- Acknowledgments
- Also by Cathryn Carter
- About the Author
With my eyes on the rearview mirror, I watch Parker and pivot, coming toward me. The first two steps are slow, and I wonder if the agent whose side she left will catch on.
By the time he does, it’s too late.
I reach over and open the passenger door before Parker’s hand even touches it, and by the time it clicks shut, I’m reversing out of the parking lot, thanking myself I left the car closer to the exit.
“I told you.” Parker presses her head against the seat, turning to face me. The smile on her face is second only to the one she just had after I kissed her. “You don’t have to keep impressing me.”
Parker reaches across and takes my hand. I don’t have to tell her I’m not done yet. When she squeezes it and lets me rest it against my leg, I believe she knows.
Chapter 19
“I’ve always been full of surprises. Maybe you just didn’t notice.”
Apparently, something else I didn’t notice today was that kiss coming at me in the parking lot until it was already over. Fitz managed to sneak it in between the space of our breaths and the beat of my heart, which hasn’t fully come down since his lips left mine.
Trying to be as discreet as I can, I drag the pads of my fingers along the rim of my mouth as if I might still find traces of him there. I’m shocked by how strongly I need to reminisce about a moment that only just happened.
I jump when my phone vibrates, but I ignore the unknown number, which means I just sent my mother to voicemail. She can go there and proceed straight to hell.
There’s a low ring, and COACH flashes on the screen of Fitz’s car.
Out of the corner of my eye, I sneak a peek, taking in the boldness of Fitz’s jaw, the stubble that buries the treasures that are the cleft in his chin and the dimple carved in only his right cheek. I wonder if the world has noticed, and I find myself hoping it hasn’t, letting them remain my small secrets of Fitz to keep.
My gaze falls to my ring.
But I guess it doesn’t matter. I don’t have to share. Not when I’m about to be his wife.
For a second, as we drive down the highway with the windows and sunroof open on a warm Spring day, I allow myself to be just that. I let Fitz take my hand back and rest it on his thigh. I don’t try to pull away when his thumb sweeps over the back of my hand. All I do is pray he doesn’t realize that the smallest touch makes the rest of my body bloom with goosebumps.