by Jill Shalvis
“Oh my goddess,” Raina whispered helplessly, and ran to the door. “What’s keeping EMS?”
A few minutes later, two uniforms stood over Brynn, helping her onto a gurney, putting an oxygen mask over her face. She no longer had her glasses and couldn’t see past her own nose.
“Honey,” Raina yelled as Brynn was stuffed into the back of an ambulance. “We’re going to be right behind you, okay? I’ve got your glasses.”
Brynn held out her hand, but couldn’t reach them.
“Just relax,” one of the EMS said. “Your only job here is to keep breathing.”
“I’m fine!” Brynn tried to yell through the mask.
But no one was listening. So she gave up and stared up at the interior roof of the rig that was a blur and did the only thing she could. She breathed.
Forty-five minutes later at the hospital, a doctor and nurse were standing at her cot.
“Looks like it was a panic attack,” the doctor said.
Brynn sighed. “That’s what I tried to tell everyone.”
“We had to be sure. Your moms were adamant.”
This was true. They’d been unbudgeable. Brynn had finally made them go to the waiting room because they’d been driving the hospital staff nuts. She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. They needed an excuse to cry because I’m home and they missed me.”
The doctor looked confused. “It’d have been a lot cheaper to just say that to you.”
“Yeah.” Like the entire five grand of her insurance deductible cheaper . . .
Half an hour later, she was cleared from her little cubicle in the ER. Her moms had been told the good news and were in the waiting room while she changed back into her clothes. Finally she was winding her way down the white hallways toward the waiting room when she stopped in front of a candy machine, catching sight of her reflection in the glass.
She was clutching the bag the nurse had provided for her to stow her personal belongings like her glasses, phone, and ID. Everything was pretty blurry, but even she could see that she was very pale, and her eyes seemed huge in her face. Embarrassment and humiliation did that to a person.
A freaking panic attack . . . Gah. She now needed a chocolate bar more than she needed her next breath, and considering she almost died from lack of oxygen due to panic, that was saying something.
A tall, lanky, lean guy stood in front of the machine, hands on either side of it as he gave the thing a hard shake.
A candy bar came loose and he caught it, shoving it into one of his cargo pants pockets.
Pockets that looked already quite full.
She couldn’t see well enough to know which kid of candy bar he got, but it didn’t matter because she liked all the candy bars in all the land. “Hey,” she said. “Save some for the paying customers.”
He turned to face her, his light brown wavy hair falling into his eyes, and . . . something made her fumble into her plastic bag for her glasses. Self-preservation, maybe, because her instincts were screaming. Clearly not a common occurrence for her, or she wouldn’t always be able to detonate her life so thoroughly. When she got her glasses on, the world came into focus again and she breathed a short-lived sigh of relief.
Short-lived because though she hadn’t seen Eli Thomas since they were both fifteen, she did indeed know him.
“I put money into the machine,” he said. His expression was tight, as if he was highly stressed. And given where they were, in the ER hallway, he in all likelihood was highly stressed. “Lots of money, in fact . . .” Stopping, he cocked his head, recognition crossing his face. His eyes softened and he smiled, flashing white teeth and a dimple in his left cheek. “Hey.” His voice was different now. Lower, quiet, like the one you used with people you knew. It was also filled with emotion. “It’s been awhile.”
True story. It had been awhile. But not long enough. And in the bad news department, the dimple and smile were still attractive and charismatic as hell, but the good news was that she’d learned how to shut her heart off. She gave him a vague smile, like she didn’t remember him.
He arched a brow.
Ignoring this because they so weren’t going there, she gestured that he should stand back because it was her turn at the vending machine. She pulled a wrinkled dollar from her pocket and tried to shove it into the slot. She could feel the weight of his stare. He wanted her to recognize him. She was still going with no thank you.
The machine spit her dollar back at her.
“You have to straighten it out first.”
Grinding her teeth, she slapped the dollar against her thigh and ironed it flat with her hand before once again attempting to thread the dollar in the machine.
It immediately spit it back out.
Seriously, was it a Monday? Was the universe out to get her?
Eli took her dollar and calmly fed it to the machine.
And of course, the machine accepted it.
Eli started to say something but she held up a finger to stop him, then punched in the corresponding letter and number for the candy bar she wanted.
Nothing happened.
No. Gripping the machine the same way Eli had, she shook it.
Nothing.
So she kicked it.
Her audience of one smirked. “So Missy Judgerson goes to the dark side.”
She shocked herself by laughing. It was her first laugh in . . . well, she couldn’t remember. Life hadn’t exactly been a pocket full of pilfered goodies lately.
“Here.” Her pretend stranger pulled two fistfuls of goods from his pockets. “You look far more desperate than me. Take your pick.”
She took a candy bar. And then snatched a bag of gummy bears as well.
He gave her a look.
“Hey, I’m a pint low, okay?” She stretched out her arm, revealing the band-aid in the crook of her elbow where they’d taken blood.
His smile faded. “You okay?”
Physically, yes. Mentally, the vote was still out. She tore into the candy bar. “I will be.”
His eyes were still the most unusual shade of gray, which should have been cold, but they weren’t. They were warm and curious. And maybe she’d feel warm and curious about him too, if a lifetime ago he hadn’t fooled her into thinking they were friends, when they’d been nothing of the kind because he’d backed her arch nemesis, Kinsey Davis.
Yes, apparently she could hold a grudge for years. Maybe it’d stuck with her because she’d written about them often enough in her long-ago camp journal, the one they’d all had to write in every night. She actually still had hers, shoved somewhere deep in her duffle bag. She used it as a reminder of the her she used to be, Past Brynn, who’d been too gullible, too loyal, too forgiving . . . She’d practically been a golden retriever.
But she’d learned. She was tougher now. Present Brynn was a German shepherd.
Eli’s phone pinged. He grabbed for it, stared at the screen, and looked stricken. “Gotta go.” He took the extra few seconds to empty his pockets, shoving his entire loot into her arms. “In case you need another fix.”
And then he was gone, leaving her torn between the humiliating memories of the past and the hope that whoever he was here for would be okay. She eyed her pilfered goods. The sugar had begun to work its way through her system, slowly giving her the courage she needed to go out and face her moms with the truth.
That once again, she’d failed at life and let down the people she loved.
Praise for Jill Shalvis
“Sisterhood takes center stage in this utterly absorbing novel. Jill Shalvis balances her trademark sunny optimism and humor with unforgettable real-life drama. A book to savor—and share.”
—Susan Wiggs, New York Times bestselling author, on The Lemon Sisters
“Jill Shalvis’s books are funny, warm, charming, and unforgettable.”
—RaeAnne Thayne, New York Times bestselling author, on The Lemon Sisters
“With a fast pace and a lovely mix of romance and self-discovery,
Shalvis’s novel is chock-full of magnetic characters and seamless storytelling, rich with emotions, and impossible to put down.”
—Publishers Weekly (starred review) on Rainy Day Friends
“The love story you need to read this summer isn’t what you expect: it’s about the love between sisters. Jill Shalvis has written something totally different for your beach read this year—and you’re going to love it.”
—Bustle on Lost and Found Sisters
“Shalvis has crafted a wonderful summer read that will fit right in with beach blankets, flip-flops, and maybe a little moonshine.”
—Library Journal (starred review) on Lost and Found Sisters
“Readers will be utterly charmed by Shalvis’s latest, and will be eager to visit Wildstone again.”
—Bookish on Lost and Found Sisters
“I love everything about this book, the family dynamics, the humor, and the amazing romance. Just amazing!”
—Lori Foster on Lost and Found Sisters
“Shalvis’s rich cast of characters add just the right dose of color and sage advice, while she spins yet another sexy contemporary tale that showcases her indelible wit and eye for sweet, compulsively readable romance.”
—Entertainment Weekly
“Romance . . . you can lose yourself in.”
—USA Today
“Hot, sweet, fun, and romantic! Pure pleasure!”
—Robyn Carr
“Jill Shalvis will make you laugh and fall in love.”
—Rachel Gibson
Also by Jill Shalvis
WOMEN’S FICTION NOVELS
The Lemon Sisters
Rainy Day Friends
The Good Luck Sister (novella)
Lost and Found Sisters
HEARTBREAKER BAY NOVELS
Playing for Keeps
Hot Winter Nights
About That Kiss
Chasing Christmas Eve
Accidentally on Purpose
The Trouble with Mistletoe
Sweet Little Lies
LUCKY HARBOR NOVELS
One in a Million
He’s So Fine
It’s in His Kiss
Once in a Lifetime
Always on My Mind
It Had to Be You
Forever and a Day
At Last
Lucky in Love
Head Over Heels
The Sweetest Thing
Simply Irresistible
ANIMAL MAGNETISM NOVELS
Still the One
All I Want
Then Came You
Rumor Has It
Rescue My Heart
Animal Attraction
Animal Magnetism
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
P.S.™ is a trademark of HarperCollins Publishers.
ALMOST JUST FRIENDS. Copyright © 2020 by Jill Shalvis. Excerpt from The Summer Deal copyright © 2020 by Jill Shalvis. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Cover design by Nadine Badalaty
Cover photographs © Getty Images; © iStock/Getty Images; © AdobeStock; © Shutterstock
FIRST EDITION
Digital Edition JANUARY 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-289781-7
Version 11252019
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-289780-0
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