Twice Smitten (A Modern Fairy Tale) by Melissa Blue Page A

to be a fair fight.”
    She made a noncommittal noise, gaze once again on the wall. “And it’s what friends do?”
    Friends. The one thing they could never truly be. That damn kiss made it worse. He hadn’t intended to bend down and finally know what her mouth would feel like against his. He’d known, on some level, it would only dig him deeper. And it had. Even if he’d thought they could truly be friends, touching her and Abigail touching him back, would have staked the idea right in its heart.
    “Friends.” He felt bitter and conflicted saying the word now. “Of course,” he said.
    An emotion passed behind her gaze as she looked at him. What should have been a crush, what should have been a simple infatuation, another chance to see where they ended up, shook him to the core. And Drew didn’t even know what it was that compelled him.
    She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it. “Thank you. I—I’ve got to get ready for the meeting.”
    Drew nodded, unable to speak as he watched her walk out the door.

Chapter Eight
    Marilyn stood about five feet even. She’d tied her shoe black hair into a ponytail. As was her usual stance at the batting cage, she bit down on her lip, gaze narrowed at the target. At the far end in front of them sat a massive pitching machine. Metal fencing separated them in their own cages.
    His cousin choked up on the bat and hit the ball hurtling toward her with practiced ease. “What’s got your jock strap in a bunch and making you hit like a girl?”
    “Play nice,” Keri said behind him.
    He took a step back and glanced at Marilyn’s girlfriend. She had on a Red Sox’s jersey as was usual for their sports’ day. The helmet covered most of the bob cut, but her hair still looked soft as its namesake of sable. Sunglasses covered her sharp hazel gaze.
    “Years and still you stay with her. I think that says more about you.” Drew shook his head.
    “It does,” Keri said.
    Marilyn barked, “Pay attention. We have pride and dignity riding on this.”
    Drew fixed his stance. “You beat me every week. I don’t know why we have to do this.”
    “You refuse to do a mani-pedi day,” Marilyn said.
    Drew finally hit a ball. “It’s like thirty minutes of tickle torture. I’m good.”
    Marilyn twirled the bat. “Doesn’t answer my question though.”
    Drew sighed after missing the ball. His swing and focus was off. “I’m in a complicated situation. It’s a first for me. I don’t know how to deal with it.”
    “A woman.” Keri hit the ball effortlessly. “It’s all in the tone. And, yes, a first for you.”
    “He doesn’t ever talk about his conquests,” Marilyn said.
    “I don’t have conquests,” Drew said, offended.
    “I know.” A grin brightened Marilyn’s face. “I was being facetious.”
    Drew choked up on the bat. “When are you ever not?”
    “Never.”
    He heard the smile in her voice and this time he made contact with the ball, and it sailed behind his head. Drew scowled at the pile of baseballs behind him. “You weren’t at the wedding,” he said to change the subject.
    “You know why.”
    He rolled his shoulders and got back into position. “Actually I don’t.”
    “Greg still hasn’t forgiven me.”
    “That was a year ago. He asked about you.”
    “No, he didn’t.”
    He grinned as her ball sailed to hit the back wall. “No, he didn’t, but he’ll get over being pissed off at you. He’s married Yvonne. In a way that’s taking your advice.”
    “He’s always listened to you instead of me. I don’t get it. I’m older and wiser. It was damn time for him to get over She Who Shall Not Be Named.”
    He pursed his lips. “She was at the wedding.”
    The bat hung loose as Marilyn’s jaw fell. “Oh, you should have called me. I would have broken my neck to see the fireworks between Abigail and Nadine. Did she shank her?”
    “Nadine wouldn’t.”
    “I’m talking about Abigail. I remember meeting her mother. It’s a