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he was, but it only made her want him that much more. She wanted to give him her comfort, her care in whatever form it took. The idea of him carrying around pain, hurting all the time both made sense and felt like a devastation.

“I know, but it might explain why he’s so emotionally unavailable. I doubt very much he’s dealt in any kind of healthy way with whatever it was that happened. Because it doesn’t sound like it’s you—it’s whatever he’s got going on. That’s cold comfort, I know.”

She picked up her tea again, taking a sip. “The guy I’ve been talking to online said that if he was really into me, I wouldn’t be single. That it’s pretty straightforward.”

Both Kayla and Lauren let out a little laugh. “Unless you’re talking about a Prescott,” said Kayla dryly. “Lauren and Theo weren’t straightforward. Sebastian and I weren’t straightforward.”

Willa closed her eyes and blew out a breath. “What am I supposed to do?”

“If Max doesn’t want to be with you, he’s a fucking idiot,” said Kayla. “And I don’t care what’s in his past. You’re the absolute best, Willa, and if he can’t see that, you deserve someone who does.”

“Maybe you should talk to a few more people on the dating app,” Lauren suggested gently. “Even if it doesn’t go anywhere, it might distract you from all of this, at least until the path forward is a little clearer.”

“And using technology should definitely make you feel like less of a Jane Austen character,” said Kayla with a little smile. “I hate seeing you so down like this. God, next time I talk to Max, I’m gonna—”

“No!” Willa practically shouted, sloshing tea over the rim of her mug and onto the sleeve of her shirt. “Please don’t. I know you mean well, but please just leave it alone. Promise me you won’t say anything about this to anyone with the last name Prescott. Both of you.”

Lauren and Kayla both held their pinky fingers up to their cameras. “Promise,” they said in unison, and relief trickled through Willa. She was already embarrassed enough at being rejected by Max not once, but twice. She didn’t think she’d survive meddling, no matter how well intentioned.

“As long as you promise to keep us posted on everything. I get why you didn’t say anything, but you don’t need to shoulder it alone,” said Lauren.

“Okay. I promise.”

She felt a little bit better after talking to her friends. The problem wasn’t solved—she was pretty sure it wasn’t actually solvable—but she did feel a bit lighter for actually talking about it with someone. She still felt slightly embarrassed, but it was worth it for the relief that came with sharing what had been eating her from the inside out for two whole months now.

But underneath that was a persistent current of sadness. The writing was on the wall. She and Max were never, ever going to happen, and she needed to let it all go.

They talked a little while longer, and after they disconnected, she set her computer aside and picked up her phone from her nightstand.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: You know how they say when you have a goal you want to achieve, you should tell someone? Because it gives you accountability?

BetaTestAccount23: Sure.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Okay, so here’s me asking for accountability. I’m officially determined to get over the guy I told you about. I need to move on because I learned a little bit about his past tonight and it’s just never going to happen.

BetaTestAccount23: What did you learn?

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: I’d rather keep that private, but let’s just say his whole emotionally unavailable thing isn’t going to change any time soon. So. Officially declaring that I’m moving on.

BetaTestAccount23: Like I said before, it’s his loss.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: That’s sweet, but you don’t even know what I look like.

BetaTestAccount23: It doesn’t matter. I’ve been talking to you for two weeks now, and I know that you’re sweet, and warm, and caring, and funny. You’re smart and dorky in a really cute way. Maybe it’s the compatibility talking, but I think you’re great.

BetaTestAccount23: So any guy who doesn’t want to be with you is an absolute moron, Princess.

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: You think I’m cute?

BetaTestAccount23: I think you’re fucking adorable.

BetaTestAccount23: I have to go. Talk later, okay?

FreshPrincessOfChelsea: Okay. Night.

Willa tossed her phone down on the bed and flopped against her pillows, all of the air bursting out of her lungs. Just when she felt like she was getting somewhere with Mr. 23, he pulled away. Which was probably a good thing, because she needed that reminder that he wasn’t exactly available either. At least he’d been honest about that. Funny how she’d only ever texted with him, but she felt like he was easier to read than Max, who she saw face to face on an almost daily basis. Who’d been inside her. Who knew what she tasted like, what she looked like when she came.

The rain had gentled, pattering against her bedroom window softly now, and she stared at it, letting the sound soothe her as two questions looped through her mind on repeat.

What had happened to Max?

Who was Mr. 23?

10

For the third day in a row rain drenched the city, hammering against windows, leaving puddles on sidewalks, running in rivulets down streets. The entire city smelled damp in the unrelenting rain, that petrichor smell of wet concrete permeating the air. The rain was supposed to wash everything clean, but instead it just made the dirt wet. Everything was soggy and messy, and complaining about it had become everyone’s favorite thing to do over the past couple of days.

Not that Max cared. The rain suited him and his dark mood, which had gripped him ever since he’d walked out on Willa in her office after she’d told him she wanted him. Which was a thrilling thought, but not one he could ever indulge. She only wanted him because she didn’t know the truth. She didn’t know who he really was. He knew what she saw, what they all

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