Chapter 1

Evie

"Now, you know I don"t like to meddle in your life, right?"

Wrong.

My brother, along with everyone else in Comfort Bay, loves nothing more than to meddle. It"s the town"s unofficial favorite pastime.

I cut off a decent chunk of Camembert from the charcuterie board, plonk it onto a cracker, and take a bite. Something tells me this conversation is going to require cheese and carbs.

"But I"ve come up with an awesome solution to your problem."

I"m tempted to ask which of my two major life crises he"s referring to but instead opt for a cautious, "Go on."

Levi rests the ladle against the side of the saucepan, then turns and focuses his full attention on me. With his skinny jeans and faded Fall Out Boy T-shirt, he could easily be mistaken for a rock star, when in reality he simply manages the hottest pop act on the planet—WHAT NOW. Yes, in all caps because that"s apparently a thing bands do now.

"It"s to do with the, uh, unfortunate incident."

Ah, so we"re on to discussing my love life now.

My cursed love life.

I"m not superstitious, but a string of three boyfriends in a row breaking up with me just before we reach the one-year anniversary mark? Come on. That can"t just be three unfortunate coincidences. Is there an unauthorized How to Date (and Break Up With) Evelyn Freeman handbook floating around somewhere that I"m not aware of?

"And by unfortunate incident, you wouldn"t happen to be referring to Bryce dumping me on live television, having the video go viral, and forevermore being known as Breakup Sneeze Girl?"

Levi frowns. "I liked my words better."

"Hey. It happened." Two hundred and forty-seven days ago, to be exact. But who"s counting? "There"s nothing I can do about it but move on."

I scoop up a few blueberries and hope that the whole move on bit sounded believable.

Levi assesses me with the same hazel eyes we both inherited from Dad.

"Yeah, see, I don"t fully believe you, Ev. Which is why I"ve come home for the weekend, forced to activate concerned-big-brother mode."

I plop a blueberry into my mouth. "Remind me again how that"s different from meddling-big-brother mode?"

"Let"s not get buried in the details." He grabs a spoon, dips it into the sauce, and then extends it over the breakfast bar toward me in a bold and brazen attempt to distract me with chili shrimp sauce. "Here. Try this."

It"s piping hot, so I blow across the top before taking a nibble. "Mmm. That"s really good."

"Too much chili?"

"Pfft. Never."

One thing that unites my family? Our love of spicy food.

We"ve been known to make a game of it, seeing who can handle the hottest dish. It"s not a real Freeman family dinner until we"re all red, sweaty, and crying. It"s nice to blame the tears on food and not decades of unresolved psychological trauma.

"I know the heat level is fine for you and me, but would it be too hot for a…normal person?"

"What normal person?" What"s he talking about? "It"s just you and me for dinner."

Levi averts his gaze.

I sit up taller. "It is just you and me for dinner, isn"t it?"

He wipes his hands on his jeans. "Not exactly."

"What are you up to?"

"Before I answer, let me remind you of the immunity afforded to me as part of concerned-big-brother mode. No threats can be made against me, nor can my physical safety be put into jeopardy."

"I make no promises."

A few beats pass.

"As I"m sure you"re well aware, Bryce"s wedding is coming up in a few months," Levi says delicately, the teasing gone, replaced by full concerned-big-brother mode activation.

It"s in two-and-a-half months—seventy-one days, to be exact. Not that I"m counting.

"I"m aware. And I am totally fine with it."

I bypass the cheese knife, pick up a whole mini-wheel of Brie, and shove it into my mouth to prove just how totally fine I am.

Levi tries not to look horrified at my display of fine-ness. "Right. So, um, look. There"s no easy way to ask this."

"Jushhh ashhhk."

He shakes his head, biting back a grin. "Do we need to go over this again, Ev? Chew, swallow, then talk."

I finish eating. "Just ask whatever you"re going to ask."

"Okay. Fine." He flattens his palms across the countertop. "Are you still planning to go to the wedding?"

"I am."

People might think I"m crazy, showing up at my ex"s wedding after the very public—and very humiliating—way we broke up, but I have my reasons for why I want to attend.

Levi rolls his eyes. "I still think that"s kinda crazy, but whatever."

Reasons I haven"t shared with anyone else, which is why he, the rest of my family, and my friends have all been trying to talk me out of going.

But, when needed, I can be just as stubborn as our mother, and I will be at that wedding.

"Do you have a date yet?"

"I don"t."

"Just as I suspected."

"Your point?"

His lips stretch. "I have someone."

"Someone for…?"

"You. To be your date. To the wedding."

"You"re setting me up? No. Levi, that"s a terrible idea." I inhale some more cheese, but this time I chew, swallow, then ask. "Who? Please don"t tell me it"s someone from WHAT NOW. I"m sure they"re lovely guys and all, but aren"t they, like, twelve?"

It couldn"t get much worse than attending Bryce"s wedding solo…unless I showed up on the arm of a minor.

"They"re in their early twenties, they just look?—"

"Underdeveloped?"

"I was going to say, young. But anyway, no, that"s not who I locked down for you."

"Please don"t use the term locked down in the same sentence as my dating life. I know I"ve had a run of bad luck when it comes to love"—understatement of the decade—"but I"m not resorting to locking anyone down."

"Fine. I won"t use that term again. Consider it banished."

"Thank you." I hesitate, almost too afraid to ask. "So, who, then? Not some slimeball music exec friend of yours."

"My music exec friends aren"t slimeballs, thank you very much. I"m very discerning about who I associate with in LA, and my friendship circle is filled with plenty of fine and upstanding?—"

"Stop rambling, and just tell me already."

"Okay. Fine." Levi smirks, lifting his chin. "Fraser."

The blueberry I just popped into my mouth goes down the wrong pipe, sending me into a coughing fit. Levi watches in amusement as I try to regain my composure.

Between sputters, I hear him say, "I was wondering if you still harbored a crush on the guy, and now I berry much know you do."

I grab a peanut and toss it at his stupid face because good people cannot leave bad puns unpunished.

Annoyingly, he ducks out of the way.

Even more annoyingly, he"s now laughing.

I take a sip of water, square my shoulders, and level my brother with my most serious look. "I do not still have a crush on Fraser. My feelings for him are where I left my bangs, my anxiety about failing algebra, and my love of bracelet-making. In. The. Past."

"So that whole coughing fit was, what, your attempt at slapstick comedy?"

"I hate you." Then I point to the pot and smile sweetly. "Your sauce is boiling over."

"Oh no!" he cries, dashing over to the stove. He lowers the heat and begins cleaning up the overflow.

While Levi"s dealing with the mess, I pile some more cheese onto a cracker—because blueberries are clearly a health hazard; point taken, universe—and take a minute to process the host of emotions Fraser"s name has stirred up.

Yes, it"s true. I developed a teeny-tiny crush on Fraser when I was a sophomore in high school and he was a senior.

We got close over a few months in the spring. Nothing physical ever happened. Fraser was a complete gentleman.

We just talked.

And not just about hockey, which was what our conversations normally revolved around whenever Fraser would come over and be forced to wait for Levi who, to this day, takes longer to get ready than my sisters or I do.

We really talked.

Fraser opened up and told me what was going on with him and his family. How much he hated filming the reality TV show his parents had signed them all up for. How he couldn"t wait to get away, make it to the major leagues, and leave Comfort Bay for good.

Well, his dreams have come true.

He"s playing in the NHL. He"s one of the highest-scoring forwards since my dad. And he"s just as reclusive and mysterious as ever. He only ever returns to Comfort Bay for the obligatory family holidays.

But I meant what I said to Levi—I am over my silly high school crush.

And the fact that Fraser left without saying goodbye, without so much as acknowledging the bracelet I made for him?

Yeah. I"m over that, too.

He probably did us both a favor, bypassing one epically awkward conversation.

Listen, Evie, thanks for the bracelet. It"s really nice of you, but I don"t want things to be awkward between us. Not with you being my best friend"s little sister and all…

Because that"s all I"ve ever been—and all I will ever be—to Fraser.

His best friend"s annoying little sister who bugged him incessantly about hockey since the day his family moved in next door to us and who made him a bracelet to show how much she liked him which he probably threw out as soon as he got home.

And I"m okay with that. There isn"t enough cheese on the planet to show how okay I am with that.

With the sauce under control, Levi wanders back. "So. Fraser. What do you think? It"s genius, right?"

"Genius is a stretch."

"I disagree. Anyway, thoughts, feelings, observations?"

"About taking Fraser as my date to the wedding?"

He nods. "It shouldn"t be a problem, right? Unless you do still have a crush on Fraser?"

I fold my arms. "I do not."

"Great. In that case, since you"ve got no lingering feelings for him—as well as no other options—and since for some inexplicable reason you are determined to attend Bryce"s wedding, it looks like you"ve scored yourself a date, courtesy of the world"s greatest brother."

"Fake date. It would be a fake date," I correct, before quickly adding, "Not that I"m agreeing to anything."

"Sure, sure."

I hate it when he smirks at me in that annoying older brother way, like he thinks he"s got the upper hand. Do they ever grow out of that?

"Think about it, Evie. Fraser is…safe."

"Safe?"

"Yeah. We know him. I trust him with my life. He won"t ever do anything to hurt or embarrass you."

Unlike a certain ex of mine…

Levi doesn"t say those words, but I can tell that"s what he"s implying.

"Because if he ever did anything wrong by you, he knows I"d inflict a slow and arduously painful death on him."

Levi stares at me.

He"s kidding, obviously, but there"s something else going on behind his eyes. Something I need more cheese to help me process.

I pick up a cube of Jarlsberg and, as I start chewing, give his suggestion some more thought.

Maybe I should go with Fraser?

He does tick all the revenge arm candy boxes a girl could want when going to an ex"s wedding to prove to him—and the world—she"s over what happened and has moved on with her life.

Successful sports star? Ding.

Famous? Ding.

Rich? Ding.

Ridiculously attractive? Ding ding ding!

I swallow.

And then I have to swallow a few more times.

Why are my windpipes conspiring against me tonight?

While my crush on Fraser has diminished somewhat over the years, his attractiveness hasn"t.

At all.

He"s one of the hottest players in the NHL.

In high school, Fraser was tall and athletic, but he had a certain gangliness to him. Today, that gangliness is gone, replaced by a well-defined chest, broad shoulders, and powerful legs, essential for agility and speed on the ice.

His jawline has sharpened, his bright-blue eyes are more intense than ever, and he"s picked up a small scar on his left cheek from an ugly high-sticking incident with an opponent two seasons ago, which, if you ask me, makes him even hotter.

I"m stating all of this objectively, as someone who is completely over her crush. These are simply the facts, people.

"Wait." I tap on the counter. "Aren"t we forgetting something here?"

"Like what?"

"Like the small matter of asking Fraser about this?"

Levi smirks.

The doorbell rings.

Levi"s smirk grows smirkier.

My stomach drops. "Don"t tell me you invited Fraser here to spring this harebrained idea of yours on him? Because that would be a terrible thing to do to the guy, putting him on the spot like that."

"I agree, and I"m a nice guy who would never do that to his best friend," Levi replies, moving to answer the door. "Which is why I called him last night and cleared it with him."

"You"ve already discussed this?"

"I have."

"Your honor, the prosecution seeks to strike any mention of my brother not meddling in my life off the record."

"Overruled."

"Hang on, hang on, hang on." I push to my feet. "You spoke to Fraser about this and he…agreed?"

"No, Ev. He didn"t. And I"ve invited him here to duke it out with you gladiator-style." Levi rolls his eyes. "Of course he agreed."

"And he"s here right now?"

"He is. Standing on the other side of that door, probably wondering why I"m taking even longer than normal to answer it."

"Get out of my way."

I shove past my brother and race over to his refrigerator. It"s brand new and one of those super fancy ones that has full-length mirror doors. I teased him about it when he bought it, but now, I couldn"t be more grateful for his vanity. I"m going to need every precious second I have to do something about the horror show staring back at me.

If I"d known we"d be having company, I would have worn something other than my dad"s old hockey jersey, black leggings, and a pair of Ugg Boots that my boss bought me on her yearly family visit to Australia.

And if I"d known Fraser would be joining us, I would have done something to tame my hair and at least put on lip gloss. Maybe even some blush.

Levi stares at me like I"m crazy as I frantically run my fingers through my frizzy blonde locks. I let out a tiny shriek when my fingers come across something that is very much not hair.

I untangle the stick and wave it in my hand once it"s freed, glaring at my brother"s reflection in the mirror.

"Why didn"t you tell me I had this in my hair?"

"Because I didn"t notice it. It was in the back." He grins. "How did you get a stick in your hair, anyway?"

"I went for a jog in the park after work."

"That doesn"t actually answer my question. But whatever. Why are you freaking out? It"s just Fraser. The guy you don"t have a crush on, remember?"

I ignore that last comment as I start tying my hair into a ponytail. "I"m not freaking out. I"m making myself presentable…because I"m considerate like that."

"For Fraser?"

"For a fellow human being who will be forced to look at me for the next several hours."

"Okay, let me see if I"ve got this right. You"re perfectly happy walking around with part of a tree lodged in your hair when it"s just you and me, but you make yourself presentable for others?"

"Correct."

The doorbell rings again.

"I"m going to answer that," Levi says, grinning. "Unless you need more time? I only ask because I"m considerate like that."

I need more time.

Some makeup.

A new wardrobe.

But Fraser is here right now.

"It"s fine. Go answer the door. Just don"t walk too fast."

"Got it."

Levi makes a show of taking a giant stride in slow motion toward the door as I focus on the task at hand.

Hair is…passable. And stick-free, so that"s a bonus.

Now onto my face.

This will need a minor miracle.

Maybe she"s born with it, maybe she"s a girl standing in front of her brother"s mirrored refrigerator frantically pinching her cheeks to bring some color into them while her former high school crush is standing outside after agreeing to her brother"s crazy idea of taking her to her ex"s wedding.

I straighten.

There. Done. Ish.

My cheeks do have a bit more color in them, so I"m taking the win.

I glance down at what I"m wearing and release a long, resigned sigh. There"s nothing I can do about my outfit other than smooth out the jersey a little.

My sigh turns into a groan when I take in my Ugg Boots. Why did I wear them tonight? From this moment on, I"m renaming them to ugh boots and vow to never wear them outside of my apartment ever again.

I shuffle my ugh-boot enclosed feet toward the dining room and duck behind the wall so I have a clear line of sight to the front door.

Levi"s almost there, about to open it.

My heart starts to race.

And no, it"s not because I still harbor feelings for Fraser. Those days are well and truly behind me…I"m, like, ninety-nine percent sure.

No.

I"m on edge because this is all happening so fast. Levi drops this bomb on me, and boom, thirty seconds later, Fraser rocks up.

Give a girl a little time to process.

Also, I may have possibly overdone it on the cheese.

As I hold my breath, waiting for Levi to open the door, a question suddenly springs to mind.

Despite being one of the most successful and famous players in the NHL, Fraser hates the limelight.

He"s notoriously private and guarded and does everything he can to lie low and not draw any media attention.

He"s even pulled back from the team"s hospital visits these past two seasons, which makes no sense because he"s always had a soft spot for kids.

So why on earth has he agreed to this?