Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Hilary
So I’m on my way to my bestie’s baby shower and can I just say—what the actual hell is even going on here?
A couple of years ago, I didn’t even know Adrianna knew our resident hometown boy-made-good rockstar, Nathan Thorn.
Like, yeah, we all knew of him—Hammonton isn’t exactly that big—but suddenly he’s back in town and boom.
He sweeps her off her feet.
And then—because apparently my life is a romance novel I’m not the main character in—I find out this is a second chance romance.
A SECOND. CHANCE. ROMANCE.
Right under my nose.
“Holy fuck, Ad,” I remember saying. “Why all the secrets?”
But it wasn’t personal. I get that. I do.
Still… rude.
Especially because that is one of my favorite tropes.
So yeah, maybe I’m a little bit salty.
Okay, fine.
A lot salty.
But not really—because my best friend deserves her happily ever after. She deserves the rockstar, the grand gestures, the whole sweeping, cinematic love story.
I mean, at least someone I know is out here living the life I only read about, right?
So yeah. I’m happy.
Mostly.
And the little starter library I put together for her baby? That’s my way of proving it.
I grunt as I wrestle the oversized gift box out of the back of my SUV.
It’s adorable—objectively.
A custom-decorated floor shelf, hand-painted in soft pastels, with wooden blocks along the bottom that spell out Baby’s First Book Nook.
Inside? A carefully curated collection of board books, classics, and a few sneaky early reader romances because it’s never too early to set expectations.
It also weighs approximately one thousand pounds.
“Shit,” I mutter, halfway bent into the trunk, my sandals slipping on the pavement as I try to get a better grip.
This was a mistake.
A very cute, very thoughtful, extremely heavy mistake.
I shift my weight—and immediately regret it.
My foot slides.
My balance goes.
And now I am fully hanging out of my trunk like some kind of human yard sale display, legs kicking slightly behind me while I try not to faceplant into a pile of baby books.
Also—and this is important—my dress?
Riding. Up.
Like, up up.
As in, hello world, enjoy the full view of my fully licensed Berenstain Bears underwear because apparently I’m making excellent life choices this morning.
Fantastic.
“You need a hand, linda?”
The deep, slightly amused voice comes from right behind me.
I freeze.
Okay.
First of all—my name is not Linda.
Second of all—this guy is way too close.
I can feel the heat of him at my backside, solid and warm and very much there, and when I push myself up and straighten, my entire plus-size ass brushes against him—and can I just say—whoa.
Like whoa.
Oh wow.
That is a man.
A very big, very solid, very real man.
Hard muscle.
Warm body.
And holy shit, he smells good.
Something clean and expensive with just enough edge to make my brain short-circuit for a second.
I jerk forward like I’ve been zapped, spinning around so fast I nearly take the trunk lid with me.
“What the—”
The words die in my throat.
Because of course.
Of course the universe would do this to me today.
He’s tall.
Like, unfairly tall.
Broad shoulders filling out a simple black T-shirt like it was designed specifically for him.
Tattoos snake down both arms, disappearing beneath the sleeves, and his jaw is sharp enough to cut glass.
Impossibly dark eyes lock on mine.
He looks amused.
Definitely amused.
And I realize two things at once.
One—I am no closer to having the big ass baby shower gift I brought out of my car.
And two—I just full-on backed my ass into this man in the middle of Adrianna’s driveway.
“Uh…” I blink. “It’s… Hilary.”
A beat.
“Not Linda.”
His mouth curves, slow and wicked, like he’s in on a joke I definitely wasn’t invited to.
“Good to know,” he says easily. “But I didn’t call you Linda. I said linda.”
I stare at him.
“Um. Okay, I’m gonna need you to translate, Hot Stranger, because right now that just sounds like the same word with attitude.”
That grin deepens.
“It’s Spanish,” he says. “Means pretty.”
Oh.
Oh wow.
My brain just fully disconnects.
Pretty?
He called me pretty?
I open my mouth. Close it. Open it again like maybe words will magically appear this time.
They do not.
And yeah.
This day just got a whole lot more interesting.