Him coming back was all it took to turn her world upside down.
Harper Collins is perfectly content with where her life is at. Is it perfect? No. But she's content. Now a guidance counselor at her old elementary school, a volunteer safety officer...
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THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME I'VE BEEN PULLED OVER. Fifth. All because of a stupid broken taillight. I know, I know, you're probably thinking, why don't you just fix it? Well, I have no money to fix it. My mom does, and my brother does, but I don't. And I refuse to let them pay for it.
Re-fuse.
But now I'm in a position wondering how many times you can get pulled over before they throw you in jail.
My best friend Amanda Lynn, yeah that's right (a mandolin), sits next to me putting on a heaping amount of red lipstick. She makes that annoying popping sound and I roll my eyes.
"You really think this?" I grab her shiny blue container from her hands and hold it up to her face, "Is going to get me out of a ticket."
I throw it to the ground and she huffs snatching it from the floor. "Excuse me, but I've gotten out of plenty tickets with this method. Besides, if you had just gotten your taillight fixed, we wouldn't be in this situation."
I give her a blank stare. "How did you become a lawyer again?"
She glares at me and we both whip our heads around to watch as the door to the cop car opens. The sound of a shirt ruffling tears my eyes away from the leg stepping out. I turn to Am who's pulling down her shirt to reveal a small amount of cleavage.
I smack my hand on the steering wheel. "Seriously Am?"
She cocks her perfectly slender brow at me. "I'm telling you it will work. Just make sure you lean back so I can give him a good view."
My head is next to smack the steering wheel, making my baseball cap flick up. "And what if it's a woman?"
She says nothing and I snap my head to her, but her bulging eyes stop me from yelling at her.
"Oh. My... It's Owen Samuels."
"What?!" I whisper hotly at her. "There's no way! He lives in Alabama. I would know if he had moved back."
She digs her red nails into my seat's interior with her body now fully turned to look back at the cop car. "Ah, yeah, your brother's gorgeous, sexy best friend, whom you've been in love with for years, is heading this way."
A knock on my window makes me still. Am fluffs her hair as I roll it down to hear those three magic words.
No, not I love you.
"License and registration."
Those.
I don't look at him, fearing that it really is Owen Samuels, but the hypnotically deep gruff voice tells me it is. My stupid heart flutters, but you know, I think it's funny that's how pretty much everyone in society describes the feeling as romantic. When you really think about it, it means you're having palpations.
