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Chapters (63)
  1. THE AMERICANA PLAYBOOK
  2. Dear Reader
  3. The Troubled Teen Industry
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. New England Rebels
  7. Day 44
  8. Chapter 1
  9. Chapter 2
  10. Chapter 3
  11. Chapter 4
  12. Day 55
  13. Chapter 5
  14. TWO MONTHS LATER
  15. Chapter 6
  16. Chapter 7
  17. Chapter 8
  18. Day 68
  19. Chapter 9
  20. Chapter 10
  21. Chapter 11
  22. Chapter 12
  23. Day 78
  24. Chapter 13
  25. Chapter 14
  26. Chapter 15
  27. Chapter 16
  28. Chapter 17
  29. Day 84
  30. Chapter 18
  31. Chapter 19
  32. Chapter 20
  33. Day 91
  34. Chapter 21
  35. Chapter 22
  36. Day 100
  37. Chapter 23
  38. Chapter 24
  39. Chapter 25
  40. Chapter 26
  41. Day 113
  42. Chapter 27
  43. Chapter 28
  44. Chapter 29
  45. Chapter 30
  46. Day 128
  47. Chapter 31
  48. Chapter 32
  49. Chapter 33
  50. Day 147
  51. Chapter 34
  52. Chapter 35
  53. Chapter 36
  54. Chapter 37
  55. Chapter 38
  56. Chapter 39
  57. Chapter 40
  58. Epilogue
  59. ONE MONTH LATER
  60. FIVE YEARS LATER
  61. Acknowledgments
  62. Also by Cathryn Carter
  63. 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.