1. Mila
Mila
Dear Diary,
I’m in love. I want to marry Ryker Walker.
He’s Parker’s best friend. He has dark brown hair, big brown eyes, and he’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.
He stayed over last night, and I saw him coming out of the bathroom in only his boxer shorts.
I had thoughts I shouldn’t have at fifteen, but I don’t care.
He gave me a lazy, sexy smile and ruffled my hair like I were some kid.
How annoying. He only sees me as a goofy teenager.
He doesn’t know that I’m ready to date a college man.
Even one that’s stupid enough to be friends with Parker, but I’ll forgive him for that.
One day, hopefully soon, I’m going to make him fall in love with me.
And when that day comes, I’m going to show him this diary.
Perhaps. Until that point, I’ll continue to flirt with Harry Jonas, my lab partner.
He’s kinda cute too. Just not as hot as Ryker.
Even Ryker’s name is hot. And Mila Walker sounds a lot better than Mila Jonas.
Oh, how I hope to be Mila Walker one day. A girl can only dream.
Mila
XOXO
P.S. Mom, if you’re reading this, you are dead to me!!!!!
Thursday, Two Weeks Ago
His name is Ryker Walker. He’s twenty-eight, hot as can be, and he’s my brother’s best friend.
Which means he is off-limits to me. Some may say twenty-eight is too old for my twenty-two years, but I beg to differ.
Guys my age are just way too immature. I need a man, not a boy.
And the man I want is Ryker Walker. Only, I can never have him.
Not that he wants me. To him, I’m just Parker’s little sister.
I’m a girl in his eyes. Not a woman. And while I was in high school, I accepted that maybe I was too young for him.
But now that I’m out of college and older, I’m willing to do anything to change his mind.
At least, I think I am. I mean, it’s easy to say you’re willing to do anything when there is nothing on the table.
But who knows what I would do if presented with some real situations?
Would I strip, give him a lap dance? Would I beg?
Would I feed him a ten course meal in a French maids outfit? I honestly just don’t know.
I’m not exactly a femme fatale. Or at least I haven’t been up to now.
Though I wish I was. Maybe if I was some sort of Vixen, he wouldn’t be able to resist me, for even a second.
I suppose that it doesn’t help that Ryker and I constantly spar every time we see each other, or that I want to slap him as much as I want to make love to him.
Yes, I want to make love to him. If you saw him, you would know why.
He’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen in my life.
He’s tall and stocky, just like I like them, about six foot two and two hundred pounds of lean muscle.
He’s got short, silky dark-brown hair and dazzling emerald eyes.
He must work out quite a bit because his legs are muscular, his arms are strong, and he would be capable of holding me in all sorts of positions for long amounts of time, if you know what I mean.
Yes, I have dirty thoughts, but I’ve never really been able to act on them.
Well, not yet. The only man I want to do all the dirty things I have in my mind to is Ryker.
I want him to make love to me until I can’t even remember my own name.
Or his. Though let’s be real, it would be very hard to forget Ryker Walker’s name, especially when you’ve been crushing on him for as long as I have.
Don’t get me wrong, though, I’m not just waiting around for him to realize he loves me; not anymore, at least. I have a plan that I’m hoping to put into action.
If you haven’t figured it out as yet, I’m a realist and a pragmatist, while also being a dreamer. Don’t ask how that works. I don’t really know. My best friend, Lara, says that I’m an enigma. I tend to agree with her. I don’t even understand myself sometimes.
But enough about me, let’s get back to Ryker.
As I said before, he’s hot. Like really, really hot.
Tall-dark-and-handsome hot. Or, as Lara would say, take-off-your-pants-and-fuck-me-tonight hot.
Of course, I wouldn’t say that—well, not out loud, I wouldn’t.
Although I’ve had many dreams where I’ve said that and more to Ryker.
“Take me now, Ryker,” being the phrase most often uttered in my dreams. And he always rises to the occasion.
If you know what I mean. And it’s not just about his looks or the fact that he’s rich.
I’m not one of those types of girls that only cares about money.
I like Ryker because he’s a good guy. He helps feed homeless people at Thanksgiving, and he’s a Big Brother to this kid who is pretty bratty.
And I know he’s not a psychopath, or at least I hope he’s not.
I’ve known him since I was a baby, so I would have hoped to have seen the signs.
You may be wondering, if I like Ryker so much, why don’t I just go after him?
Well, for one, he’s my brother Parker’s best friend and has been for twenty years.
So, he’s known me since I was a little kid with snot in my nose, and I guess that makes him think of me as his little sister.
But I sure don’t think of him as an older brother.
And I’m determined for him to notice me as more than a little girl.
There’s just one problem, though. There are parts of him that I don’t really like.
I mean, I think he’s hot and sexy, and I have dreams about him, but in real life, sometimes he’s an arrogant asshole who thinks he’s God’s gift to women, thanks to the many hot women who throw themselves at him daily.
So, yeah. I have a bit of a moral dilemma on my hands.
Should I go for it, knowing he’s an asshole, or should I leave it alone, because he’s an asshole?
And to make it perfectly clear, Ryker doesn’t care who knows that he’s a player.
That’s one of the reasons why Parker told him that if he ever laid a hand on me, he’d find his two front teeth knocked out on the floor.
That didn’t exactly help my cause when I was younger and openly flirting with Ryker.
So, now I’m at a crossroads, and I’m not really sure what to do.
Why is it so important for me to decide now, you ask?
Well, he’s going to be spending the weekend with Parker, our parents, and me at our lake house.
It’s a tradition in my family to go to the lake house every fall, right before winter hits.
And Ryker always comes because, as I said before, he’s practically part of the family.
I know, I know—I shouldn’t be fantasizing about my brother’s best friend like this.
I grew up with him; he’s an asshole who teased me mercilessly, and I know he’s a player, but all I can say is he’s hot, and I can’t help that my body catches fire when I see him.
He’s all that I can think of every night before I fall asleep, and so I’ve decided to see if I can take our relationship to the next level.
I mean, we did share a special kiss when I was eighteen.
It was hot. But it freaked him out. He was twenty-four, and to him, kissing me was akin to being a pedo.
However, I’m no longer eighteen, and I want him to know that in every way possible.
That’s why I’m planning on trying to seduce him this weekend.
It will be hard with so many people around, but I’ve come up with a plan.
“That’s our bestseller.” The sales lady beamed at me as I fingered the sexy underwear. “It’s called the Lacy Suspender set. It’s guaranteed to get your man all hot and bothered.”
“I can see that.” I grinned back at her while I played with the soft, flimsy material.
“It’s very hot and sexy.” And it really was.
The only worry in my mind was what my parents would think if they saw me cavorting around in this get-up.
It was a bit risky to attempt to wear sexy underwear on a family trip, but what option did I have?
It wasn’t as if Ryker and I hung out on the regular.
I didn’t really see him unless there was a family event he was invited to, and Parker didn’t invite me to hang out with him much outside of that.
“Yes, it is.” She winked. “But then again, all of our stuff at Agent Provocateur is sexy.”
“That’s true.” I nodded as I looked back down at the barely there bra and panties with matching suspenders. “How much?”
“Only one hundred and ninety, miss.” She continued smiling at me, and my stomach dropped.
One hundred and ninety dollars? For almost non-existent underwear?
I bit my lower lip as I stood there. That would almost deplete my bank account, and I knew I couldn’t use my parents’ credit card.
Not here at a lingerie store. Especially because I was only supposed to use it for emergencies, now that I was an adult and out of college, I knew that they wouldn’t think that seducing Ryker was an emergency.
“Will that be cash or credit?” The sales lady’s voice was sharp, and I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was worried she’d just wasted the last twenty minutes with a customer who might not be able to pay.
“I’ll use my debit card,” I said and grabbed my wallet from my bag, my heart beating rapidly—bye-bye, two hundred dollars, but hello to Ryker in my bed. Hopefully.
“Lara, my parents are going to kill me. Nonno is going to kill me. This might be the last time you talk to me. I think they’re going to send me back to Italy.”
“First off, why would this be the last time I talk to you? They do have phones in Italy. And secondly, how can they send you back to Italy? You’re not from there. And lastly, your nonno is not going to kill you. You’re his favorite granddaughter.”