"May I?"

He gently toys with the edge of my silky underwear, his finger tracing along the delicate border where the fabric meets my skin, and I feel like I'm about to burst at the seams. His steel-blue eyes slowly crawl up to meet mine, patiently waiting for my response. I give him a slight nod.

With a twist of his fingers, he tugs them slowly down my legs, guiding them off, one foot at a time, until I'm bare in front of him. He holds the silky material in front of him, his eyes fixed on mine, before a crooked smile spreads across his lips. And then, with deliberate slowness, he shoves them into the back pocket of his light-washed Wrangler jeans, making sure I see that he's pocketing some of my most expensive underwear.

Good god, who is this man?

He leans down, his hot, wet mouth pressing against the crook of my neck, working his way up. My fingers thread through his unruly espresso-brown hair, tugging him closer as I scrape my teeth over the scar along the edge of his jaw—the scar I've been desperate to put my lips to.

"You're not taking those, are you?" I question, my voice about eight octaves higher than usual—breathy and thin. How is it that he makes me feel like I'm suddenly inexperienced? I reach to grasp the hem of his white shirt and lift it up as my fingers glide across every hard line of his defined, muscular abs. "Those are expensive."

"Don't worry," he says, pulling back from me so he can peel the shirt off his arms. He tosses it to the floor alongside the rest of our discarded clothes. "I'll keep them safe."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that, Rhett," I tease.

God, why am I arguing with him? I don't even care. I don't care. He can keep them.

"Tell me." He slips his palm between my thighs, and my back arches off the mattress. "What is it you like then, sugar?"

"Earth to Ellis," I hear my best friend say, snapping her ring-clad fingers in front of my face and then waving her hand dramatically in an attempt to grab my attention. "Hello?"

"Hmm?" I blink twice as I cross my legs, squeezing them together in the hopes that it will dull the ache building between my thighs.

My attention shifts to Delaney, her head tilted, blue eyes narrowing at me with suspicion as she says, "You're not listening."

I clear my throat, pressing a hand to my chest. "Yes, I am."

Juniper snickers through the speakers on the FaceTime call from Delaney's phone, propped precariously against my Diptyque candle on the coffee table. She presses her lips to her wine glasses to hide her grin.

Juniper, our other best friend, is all the way in New York, but we've managed to perfectly sync Sleepless in Seattle with Delaney and me here in actual Seattle so we can watch it together. We make it a point to do this at least once a month, cycling through all the classic '90s rom-coms while we talk about our lives.

I glance from Juniper's grin to the TV hanging above the fireplace in my living room just as Meg Ryan leans in to tell Rosie O'Donnell, "They knew it! Time, distance. Nothing could separate them because they knew. It was right, it was real, it was..."

I must have zoned out longer than I thought.

"Okay," Delaney says, shaking her head like she doesn't quite believe me. "Yes or no, then?"

My eyes dart between my two best friends, attempting to recall the last thing we were talking about. Something about Delaney going through my closet of extra makeup from sponsors and PR packages, I think. Or maybe it was her wanting to borrow my yellow Free People dress. Either way, I couldn't care less if she did. But if it's about me going to her elementary school play for Kid Frankenstein just to keep her company, then it's a firm no. I won't be fooled into it again.

Saying no feels like the safest option, right? No, I don't want to watch a bunch of first-graders scream out the lyrics to Kid Frankenstein. And if she gets upset about me not letting her borrow my dress, well... she'll get over it, eventually. Right?

"No," I say with a half-shrug, reaching for a small handful of popcorn tucked between Delaney and me on the couch.

Delaney furrows her brows slightly, glancing around the room, confused by my answer, while Juniper rolls her lips into a thin line as if trying to suppress a smile.

Okay, maybe that is the wrong answer based on the looks they are both giving me.

My eyes flick between them, from Delaney to Juniper on the phone screen, then back to Delaney, as I pop a single flake of popcorn into my mouth, trying to read their expressions. I swallow before responding with the most nonchalant tone I can. "Um, I mean... yes?"

Delaney scoffs, and Juniper barks out a laugh, putting a handful of her own popcorn in her mouth.

"You really thought Chase and I wouldn't last more than two months?" Delaney pouts, sinking back into the couch.

Oh. That's what we're talking about. I scrunch my nose. The answer is a hard yes. I knew for a fact they wouldn't make it past two months. Honestly, I'm still shocked they made it past two weeks. The guy took her to Safeway, and they ate sushi in his car—in the parking lot by the dumpster—on their first date. There was no way he was going to last.

Juniper and Delaney have been my best friends since freshman year at the University of Washington, when the three of us realized we were taking the exact same classes and had the same schedule. We went from sitting next to each other in lecture halls to sharing an apartment the following year. They are, without a doubt, the best people I've ever known, and it still boggles me that we've managed to stay this close over the years.

But if there's one thing that June and I have learned about Delaney over the last seven years, it's that she's always been a little... How do I put it nicely? Socially awkward when it comes to men she likes. Men she has zero interest in? Completely normal. She is so awkward that it never lasts more than the first date. And the ones that do make it past that first date are either douchebags, crazy, or stealing from her.

In this case, I think Chase might have been all three.

"Yeah, no," I say, shaking my head as I put another popcorn flake in my mouth. "There's no way you guys would have made it past two months."

"Take it back," Delaney demands playfully, hurling a throw pillow in my direction. She misses, and it tumbles off the couch.

"What were you so distracted by on your phone?" Juniper asks, lifting her glass of wine from somewhere just out of view beneath the frame of the screen. "You completely zoned out for a good bit."

Delaney lets out a dramatic groan, falling back against the couch like a wounded Victorian heroine. She picks up a strand of her brown hair and inspects the ends. "She does that now."

"Does what now?"

"She always zones out."

Heat creeps into my neck as I say, "Not always."

"Enough to notice," Delaney retorts.

Juniper's head tilts. "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, uh." I glance down at my phone, the email subject line reading: Come Experience Wyoming's Newest Remodeled Ranch at Diamond Creek—Our Treat. They've invited me to stay in their cabins for free in exchange for a series of Instagram posts. Another sponsored opportunity to add to the long list of companies looking to capitalize on my 1.4 million followers on Instagram.

Normally, I'd skim the details, draft a quick no in reply because I don't have time for it, and move on. But it was the word Wyoming that triggered something in me. It brought back memories of Rhett and those two hazy weeks a year ago.

I don't think my head's been screwed on straight since that summer—since the morning he walked out of that hotel room without so much as a goodbye. I've spent the better part of a year trying not to think about him and the lake—the one where Delaney, Juniper, and I usually spend the entire season at my family's lake house across the mountains in Eastern Washington. Now, I'm annoyed that I'm being reminded of him, especially when I'd managed a perfectly good three-week streak without a single thought of Rhett Lawson.

"Nothing," I mumble, shaking my head in an attempt to push the cowboy far, far from my thoughts. I toss my phone onto the couch. "Just something about a sponsored stay."

"Oh," Delaney says, perking up as she props herself on her elbows to look at me. She's grinning now. "Are we going on a trip?

"Who said you were invited?" I quip.

"Who else are you going to take? You only ever bring us. Let me see," Delaney says, sitting up, her hand opening and closing in a gimme motion for my phone. I pick it up and hand it over.

Delaney isn't wrong; she and June are the only ones I take anywhere with me. Although I've made a lot of friends through social media, I've found that I don't trust many of them completely. I can't count how many people I've met who only wanted to hang out because of my follower count. It's why I stick to doing things with Juniper and Delaney—I know there's no guessing, no ulterior motives. They're here for me, not the perks.

Except for the fact that Juniper now lives across the country in New York City and is engaged to her boyfriend, Wells, of one year. So, it's really just Delaney and me now. And honestly, I only get Delaney when she's on break from her job as a first-grade teacher. Between her schedule and mine, it's hard to find time to see her most days.

"It's somewhere in Wyoming, I think. A cabin or something," I say, settling back into the couch. I reach for my wine, take a generous sip, and place the glass back on the side table. "I'm not sure if it's really my thing."

"Not your thing?" Delaney gives me a look before reaching out and pressing the back of her hand to my forehead. Her brows furrow in mock concern. "Are you sick? Feeling okay? Dying of a terminal illness I don't know about?"

"What?" I swat her hand away.

June laughs through the speakers. "Since when are cowboys not your thing, Ellis?"

"I don't know. Are there even cowboys in Wyoming?" I ask dumbly, shifting my focus back to the TV.

"Are there even cowboys in Wyoming?" Delaney mimics, rolling her eyes as she scrolls through Diamond Creek Ranch's website. Okay, so maybe she has a point—I've always had a fixation with cowboys, and they both know it. "Sounds exactly like your thing—Oh, look, horses!" She spins the phone around to show a picture of horseback riding through a snowy Wyoming landscape.

"Well, I won't be able to go," Juniper says.

"What?" Delaney says, my phone dropping to her lap as her shoulders slump. "Why? We never see you anymore. You never come to Seattle now. Wells keeps you locked up in New York all for himself."

We all shift our attention to Wells. He's behind Juniper, sitting in the oversized armchair across the room in the corner of their tiny apartment, his hands running through his messy hair. His tall, lanky figure is sprawled out, feet propped up in burnt orange socks decorated with tiny coffee cups. The socks are unmistakably Juniper's doing—she must have bought them for him.

He's completely oblivious to us, engrossed in whatever book he's reading, AirPods in, his brows furrowed in deep concentration.

"It's not Wells keeping me from going," Juniper says, glancing back at us. "I have a deadline for my next book, and I'm already behind."

"You're writing another book?" I ask, perking up in my seat.

She nods, a frown tilting at her lips. "It was part of the deal when they signed me. The only thing is, I'm having the worst writer's block, and my new editor... Well, he's really tough on me." She pauses, taking another sip of wine. "And I'm pretty sure the first book was just a complete fluke."

A year ago, during that same summer with the cowboy at the lake, Juniper wrote a book. Shortly after signing with a literary agency, her book took off, almost making it to the New York Times bestseller list in one go. No one, and I mean absolutely no one, was surprised—except for Juniper.

"It's not a fluke," Delaney says, just as I add, "It'll pass, June. I'm sure of it."

"Anyway," Juniper says with a half-hearted shrug, "I don't think I can go."

"Boo," Delaney says, tossing a handful of popcorn at the screen. "You can write from Wyoming! Come on, it'll be fun." She turns to pout in my direction. "We didn't even go to the lake this summer, and we're never together, just the three of us together anymore. And I have mid-winter break coming up! Think about it—snow, mountains, country bars... cowboys."

"Well, I don't know," I sigh, taking my phone from Delaney and studying the website's picture of the cabins. It looks peaceful, relaxing. And things here have been a bit stressful, to say the least. A getaway could be nice. Besides, for the first time in our entire friendship, we didn't spend the summer at the lake. Juniper was busy in New York, and I couldn't stomach the idea of going back. Not after the summer before—not after Rhett. As much as I told myself he didn't affect me, I didn't want to relive it. "Maybe. I'll look into it. Could be fun. But Juniper has to come—"

I pause when I hear the sound of my front door opening and closing. I groan, my head falling back to the couch, knowing exactly who it is.

"Fox, go home!" I shout.

"Rude," my younger brother says as he walks into the kitchen, tossing his keys onto the counter. Delaney and I both glance over the back of the couch toward the doorway where he stands, still dressed from his internship at that big law firm in Seattle—at least, I think that's where he was today. His crisp white dress shirt is neatly tucked into a tan suit, a long brown coat draped over the whole ensemble. He tugs at his tie, loosening it with one hand, and I smile when I catch a glimpse of the watch I got him for his birthday last month. "I bet you don't say that to Delaney."

"Yeah, because she doesn't show up unannounced and help herself to whatever she wants." She does, actually, but he doesn't need to know that. Ever since Felix moved a few streets down from me, he's made it a habit of showing up after work to eat all the food in my fridge.

"Sup, Laney," he says, tipping his chin up in a nod, ignoring my comment. His eyes land on the bowl of popcorn nestled between Delaney and me. "Oh, nice. Popcorn."

"Hi, Felix," Delaney says, watching as he shrugs out of both his jackets, then reaches for the bowl of popcorn and falls into the armchair beside her. I shake my head, unamused, and turn my attention back to Juniper on the screen. She's narrowing her brown eyes at Delaney for some reason.

"I'm only going if you come, too, June," I say, glancing from her to Delaney.

"Where are we going?" Felix interjects. "I'm coming with. I could use a vacation."

"You're not going anywhere," I say, shooting Felix a pointed look. He rolls his eyes, shoves popcorn into his mouth, and toes off his dress shoes. "June, Delaney, and I are going to Wyoming."

"You're going to Wyoming?" Felix mumbles out around a half-laugh and a mouthful of popcorn. "What the hell is in Wyoming?"

"Wait—you're going to Wyoming?" I hear Wells' voice come through from Juniper's side of the screen.

"Yes," Delaney and I say at the same time, even though neither of us can see him.

"Oh," is Wells' only response.

Juniper's lips pull into a smile as she looks up past the phone—Wells must be standing in front of her now—before her attention drifts back to her phone. "I can probably come for a few days, but I can't stay the whole week. I've got too much book to write, and I'm already so far behind."

"I'll take a few days of Juniper Jenkins," I tell her, grinning.

Delaney squeals beside me, shimming her body in excitement. "Wyoming has no idea what's coming for them."

——————

Double update because I can, and also, I'm kinda ready to get into it.

It feels SO good to be back in this little world with Ellis, June, and Delaney—like I've been wrapped in my favorite blanket and handed a hot cup of coffee.

This story is coming together so much better than the last time I attempted it, and I'm honestly so, so, so excited for you all to read it. Some things have changed, and others are exactly the same, but I'm loving where it's headed.

I hope you guys do too 🤠