That One Night: A Pucking Around Prequel Novella (21)

“The minute I heard my first love story,

I started looking for you, not knowing

how blind that was.

Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere,

they’re in each other all along.”





Maybe we’ll meet again. Maybe not. Either way, we’ve been in each other all along.





XO,





Mystery Girl





I glance back down at the sink. She left me something else. I set down the paper and pick up the thin vial of travel-size perfume. I unscrew the cap. One whiff and I’m groaning, dick twitching. It’s her perfume. It’s not a clue to her identity, but at least it’s something, some piece of her, some proof that this was real. It happened. We happened.

I’m not giving up. I’m finding my Mystery Girl if it’s the last thing I do. And when I find her again, I’m never letting her go.

To be continued…





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SNEAK PEEK: PUCKING AROUND





Swipe to read an exclusive first look at the first three chapters of PUCKING AROUND!





NOTE: This is a draft and subject to change.





CHAPTER 1





“RACHEL!”

I groan, not ready to open my eyes and face the truth. It’s morning. Again. And I’m officially going to murder my roommate Tess…just as soon as I remember how eyelids work. Why did I let her talk me into going out last night?

Because you’re twenty-seven and single, girl. Live your damn life! I can hear her voice echoing in my head along with the steady thump thump thump of last night’s dance music.

I’m pretty sure there was drinking. No, I’m positive there was drinking. What else explains why my tongue feels superglued to the roof of my mouth?

Oh god—I think I’m gonna be sick. I’m getting too old for this. I can’t bounce back like I could when I was eighteen. There’s only one solution: I’m just never drinking again. No more dancing. No more bars. Consider this my retirement from night life.

“RA-CHEL! Girl, get up!”

I roll onto my back, wincing as I gaze up at the blades of my slowly circulating ceiling fan. I think I slept with my contacts in. My eyes itch so bad.

Make a list, Rach. Make a plan.

That’s been my mantra for the last two months as I’ve tried to put the pieces of my shattered life back together.

Hot shower, strong coffee, maybe some eye drops. And get a cheesy bagel from that place around the corner from the clinic—

“RACH!” Tess stomps down the hall and stands in the doorway, her wild, red curls spilling around her shoulders. She’s a smokin’ hot size twenty with a perfect, pear-shaped body. Per usual, she’s wearing nothing but a crop top and her undies, a spray of peachy freckles dotting across her chest. The girl sheds clothes around this apartment like a husky sheds hair.

Not that I mind. I’m a rock star’s daughter, born in California and raised on the road. A naked Tess doesn’t bother me.

“Girl, did you not hear me hollerin’ for you?” She pops a hand on her hip and tosses my phone on the bed. “Someone’s been trying to get ahold of you for like thirty minutes.”

I reach blindly for it without turning my head. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. A New York number, I think. And there was a missed call from Doctor H.”

I bolt upright, swallowing down the instant wave of nausea that hits me. “Ohmygod, Tess!” I snatch up my phone. “My boss is calling and you let it just keep ringing?”

“Hey, I’ve got my own boss breathing down my neck, thank you very much,” she says with a huff. “You handle your arrogant asshole, I’ll handle mine.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder as she turns. Her cheeky undies show off her freckled booty as she saunters away.

I roll my eyes, knowing she means well. Strictly speaking, we both make enough money to afford our own places, we just like the companionship. Tess is the best friend a girl could ask for. She’s honest and loyal and so deeply caring. She’s just being overprotective because she’s never liked Doctor Halla. She doesn’t like the way he micromanages people or his aloof manner. I guess it’s just never bothered me. He can’t help that he’s European.

After two years as his resident, I’m used to his quirks. Doctor Halla likes order. He likes a plan of action, and he really doesn’t like deviating from a plan once set. He and I are a lot alike in that respect.

I drag a hand through my tousled hair, checking my text messages while I wait for my brain to warm up. Six texts and a missed call from my twin brother and his husband.

HARRISON (8:01AM): In NYC for cooking show. Wanna fly up for taping on Sat?





HARRISON (8:04AM): You skull emoji??





HARRISON (8:05AM): MISSED CALL





I grin, shaking my head. Just like a twin to give me exactly three minutes to respond before he jumps to rigor mortis in his mind.





HARRISON (8:07AM): Hello eyes emoji