Page 2 of In Every Chapter

“They follow the light, Pais,” she’d said. “Just like we do.”

Secretly, I’d read up on sunflower lore in history and loved the wishfulness they symbolized. And I’d bought the ring last January on what would have been my first anniversary.

Thanks to my sidetracked mind, Cute Guy aced the next question on Legolas’s eye colour—in the books, not the movie trilogy. Sorry, Orlando Bloom, you might have been dreamy in blue, but grey was the right choice.

I glared at the screen, rolling my shoulders. No more memories. Only focus. I wasn’t competitive by nature. I just . . . needed to feel something. Winning, losing—I didn’t care at that point.

Denver queued up a fill-in-the-blank quotation on the screen, and Cute Guy’s fast reflexes outmaneuvered me.

I scowled at him, and when he side-eyed me, his lips twitched. Guess he was as invested in this rivalry as I was. When he messed up on the third blank, my inner cheerleader started waving pom-poms.

But my celebration died a swift death when Denver’s overly friendly gaze flicked to me—eyeing me like I was the greasy nachos Downto’n was famous for, and he was in the mood for a snack. Gross. “Tonight’s pot is yours if you get this one, Pais.”

I hated the familiarity of my nickname on his tongue. He’d flirted with me before, but I wasn’t interested. At all. Last man in the world I would marry and all that Lizzy Bennet stuff. Seriously, read the room, buddy. And a book on how to treat women while you’re at it.

With my first marriage being an epic failure, I wasn’t itching to give a repeat performance. I wasn’t looking, and maybe I never would be interested in anyone again. I could live with that. I had my friends, a steady job, and yet . . . What about Cute Guy?

Back to the matter at hand. Inhaling slowly to settle my rattled nerves, I reread the question on the small flat screen overhead.

Finish the following quotation: “[Blank] and [blank] shall live still in some [blank] [blank] where the [blank] is [blank].”

Relief swelled in my chest, and I smiled in spite of myself—a real smile—for the first time tonight. This passage was one of my favourite sections in The Return of the King. I had it handwritten on a sticky note taped to the bathroom mirror in the apartment Juliet and I shared. We were the only two of our friend group to live in Serenity Springs. Liz and Stephanie had made the trek from out-of-state in this January weather to help keep my mind from wandering down dark corridors of the past on what would have been my second anniversary.

If we’d have lasted. But we hadn’t, and having my girls here was the best thing I could have wished for. Even if they did drag me from my binge-watching The Hobbit trilogy.

Sometimes, a girl just needed a solid wallowing session while watching dwarves decapitate hideous orcs. Always made me feel better.

Clearing my throat to refocus, I said simply, “’Hope and memory shall live still in some hidden valley where the grass is green.’”

Denver rang an old bronze bell with a frayed rope, announcing my victory. “And we have our winner! Give it up for Ms. Paisley Nichols!”

The name tasted like ash on my tongue. Maybe I should go back to using my maiden name? But I forced a weak smile onto my face and shook hands with Denver, discreetly wiping my hand off on my velvet black dress when he wasn’t looking. I could still feel his smarminess coating my skin.

The small wad of cash he handed me was much more welcome. Just enough for two books to add to my collection, if I was thrifty about it. Hmm . . . there’s that new special edition of Emma. Maybe I can splurge on the hardcover? Hardcovers were elite. The highest prize of book trophies.

“Hey, gorgeous, that was pretty hot.” Denver waggled his eyebrows, interrupting my bookish daydreams. “Maybe you and I can go out sometime.”

He was still here? I tucked the money in my purse. “I don’t think so.”

“Aw, come on, Pais. We’d be amazing together. I promise I can show you a good time.”

I baby barfed in my mouth. Did guys seriously think that was attractive? “I said no thanks. And it’s Paisley.”

“Don’t be like that.” He leaned across the counter, close enough that I caught a whiff of sour milk on his breath. Probably from the nachos. “The things I could—”

“What part of no wasn’t clear the first time?” I needed to make my exit because if Juliet noticed, she’d make a scene. So would Liz. And while I loved that about them, I had no desire for the worst day of my life to be compounded by a potential brawl.

“The lady said no.” A warm, gravelly voice skittered over my neck from behind. It’d been years since a guy gave me goose bumps.

Pivoting on the squeaky leather stool, I came face-to-face with Cute Guy. Or face-to-chest. Because I had to tilt my head up to see his face, thanks to his giant genetics. He was nearly a head taller than me while I was perched on the barstool. His tanned face cut an attractive figure with his five o’clock shadow shaping his angular jawline. And those eyes? A brilliant ocean blue a girl could get lost in under that slightly tousled sandy-brown hair. Hmm… He reminded me of a rugged James Norton. Or maybe a James Dean.

“Butt out, man, this doesn’t concern you,” Denver snarled, puffing his chest out like he was in some weird territorial bird ritual.

Cute Guy stared him down, his expression flinty. His eyes had been kind when he looked at me, but now? Ice cold and lethal.

And I’d never felt safer.

Because Denver really was a spineless toad with a millipede on his upper lip, he backed down with his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Always gotta be the white knight, Grey.” He sneered. “Heard your last lady didn’t appreciate that much.”