Lauren Layne

So he did the only other thing he could think of that would catch her off guard.

He kissed her.

Kissing Mitchell was so right and so unnervingly familiar that she almost pulled back. The sheer rightness of it felt wrong. She didn’t even know him.

She might be able to identify the different types of kisses, but Mitchell had mastered them. He’d taken everything she’d ever experienced, picked out the best parts, and delivered them perfectly.

Sign he wants to take things to the next level: he rejects his rich ex-girlfriend to make you come in the shadows of the Metropolitan Opera House.

Love simply was. Love was Julie.

Julie swallowed. Took a breath. Took a risk. “I love you.”

His eyes went bright and fierce. “You’d better. Because I love you so damn much.”

“Forever?” she asked.

“Forever.

He kissed her under the setting sun, right there for the world to see, and Julie’s heart soared with the perfection of the moment.

Now this was a story worth telling.

It was him.
The man was gorgeous in the sort of way that made women stop and stare. The tall and lean athlete’s body was as impeccably dressed as ever in a trim, perfectly tailored black suit. No sign of a tie today, although there often was one.
His dark hair was perfectly styled, the clean-shaven face showing off a strong jaw and symmetrical lips.
And the eyes…green today, although they often could burn blue.
But Emma didn’t have to look at the man to know all of this.
She knew it all from her memories. Bad memories.

She’d quit caring about anything having to do with Alex Cassidy long ago.
Say…right about the time he left her at the altar.

And Alex Cassidy didn’t think he was biased just because these women—most of them, anyway—were his friends.
But they were his friends. Good ones. Just when he’d started to think Manhattan was the loneliest, most foul place on earth, he’d stumbled on the unexpected:
Friendship.