The Lightning-Struck Heart (Tales From Verania 1) - Page 262

But everyone was thrilled and merry and gay. There were smiles on people’s faces, a skip to their steps.

Well, until they saw me.

Then there were the looks of sympathy, a slight wince to their faces because apparently everyone knew my business.

So.

Avoidance.

“Hey, Sam. How are you doing? Do you need to talk to—?”

“Nope!”

“Oh, Sam. Maybe you should just—”

“Nope.”

“Hi, Sam. You don’t know me, but I want to offer you my condol—”

“No, thank you.”

“Sam. Forget Ryan Foxheart. My last name is Harding. Combine that and we’d be HaveHard. Doesn’t that sound… erotic?”

“Nope!”

Avoidance became my mantra.

I told myself it would be easier to get over this entire shitstorm if I didn’t have anything to do with Ryan and Justin leading up to the wedding.

With Justin, it worked out marvelously for the both of us because he seemed to be doing the same to me and was obviously far too busy with the wedding planners, discussing the food and clothes and decorations and music and lighting and vows and flowers—especially since my mother had looked at him, laughed, and walked away when he told her he’d be requiring her services. It was the first time in my life I’d appreciated a mutually beneficial arrangement I had going on with the Prince.

And Ryan?

Well.

Let me tell you about that motherfucker.

Avoidance is key to maintaining a happy Sam.

When problems of a lightning-struck heart are prevalent, avoid them until they go away all on their own.

Ryan did not get that memo.

While Randall was forcing me to elucidate, Ryan was right there, lurking like a fucking jackass in the corners.

“Can we help you?” Randall asked him once after he followed us into the library.

“No, no,” Ryan said. “Just looking for… this book,” he said, pulling one off the shelf. “To do… research.”

Randall looked over and read off the title. “Sex & Pregnancy: You Won’t Actually Poke the Baby. Huh. That’s… light reading.”

Ryan blushed, and it made me want to poke his baby.

Or something.

It was all very confusing.

“Yes, well,” he muttered. “Can’t be too careful.” Then he fled.

Tags: T.J. Klune Tales From Verania Fantasy
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