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There’s two sides to every love story. The how you fell in love, and the how you fell apart.

This is ours.

The cardinal rule of friendship is you don’t mess with your friend’s sister. That goes double when she’s his little sister.

It was just supposed to be fun. She wasn’t supposed to end up being the love of my life. And I definitely wasn’t supposed to break her heart.

Ainsley is a wedding dress designer. That should’ve been a warning that she’s a hopeless romantic. That should’ve clued me in that she believes love conquers all.

But there are some things that love can’t fix. I’m one of them.

She thinks love is the answer.

But love is the reason I let her go.


Prescott Lane


An all-new standalone contemporary romance is out now from Prescott Lane, and I have an excerpt for you.

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There are no how-to manuals on avoiding bedding your best friend’s baby sister. I’ll have to wing it. Daily dog walks probably aren’t part of the manual. I need a plan.

Step one of my plan—preventative jerk off.

No offense to Sadie, but man’s other best friend is his cock. Men have been beating off since the beginning of time. I bet Adam whacked one off in the Garden of Eden. Sure, we do it because we are horny, but it’s not solely about pleasure. We jerk off to relieve stress, help us sleep, or just because we’re fucking bored, so why not do it for preventative measures?

So begins the pattern—work, jerk off, evening stroll with Sadie and Ainsley, sometimes ice cream, say goodnight before my boner comes back. I always end the evening at her door.

My plan works for the next week or so.

This time, feeling my preventative beat-off subsiding, I move to push the elevator button behind me. “I’ll see you at my parents’ house this weekend,” I say, reminding her of the little welcome home dinner my mom and dad are having for her.

“I can’t wait to see them,” Ainsley says then starts chatting away about Skye and Brody’s upcoming wedding. Sadie seems to be getting bored because she nudges Ainsley in the ass.  Ainsley pats her head, a half-attempt at affection. Normally, Sadie’s mellow, lazy, and arthritic, which is why I didn’t expect Sadie to jump on Ainsley’s back, knocking her into my arms.

Dropping the leash to the ground, I can’t even scold Sadie. All I can manage to do is stare into Ainsley’s perfect blue eyes and try to stop from combusting at the heat coursing through my veins. Her breasts are pushed against my chest, and her skin is so soft and warm. For a split second, I forget she’s my best friend’s little sister. I forget I’m supposed to think of her as my little sister. She’s simply a beautiful woman in my arms, and somehow my lips fall to hers, and my hand goes around her waist, pulling her tighter.

It’s a soft, tender brush of lips, nothing more, but God help me, the sweetest little moan falls from her lips. I’m done for. I push her against the door, pinning her arms over her head, feeling her nipples harden. I want to take her right here in the hallway. Her tongue meets mine, exploring my mouth, and I can’t believe she isn’t slapping me away. She wants this, too. How did I not know that?

We slow a bit, no longer frantic for each other, falling into a rhythm of pure pleasure. Slow and sweet with an intensity I could never have imagined. Her hands slip through my hair. Mine slip to her perfect ass, pulling her tighter. In that instant, I’m addicted.

I’m not sure which one of us pulls away first, but when we finally do, she gives me a coy smile, her eyes holding the sexiest look, and I know we aren’t just friends anymore.

I look down and swear to God, Sadie is smiling, too, totally pleased with herself. When I look back up at Ainsley, the magnitude of what just happened, what I wanted to happen, hits me. I take a step back, watching her eyes change from delight to dread. “I shouldn’t have done that” are the words that come out of my mouth, but every part of my body is screaming otherwise. Her eyes gloss over, and I know she’s holding in tears.

She reaches for the doorknob and says, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“Ainsley?  It’s just, I mean, Brody trusts me,” I stammer. “I can’t do this to him.”

Her head whirls around so fast I worry she might hurt herself. “I’m a grown woman, for God’s sake. I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“He’s my best friend, my business partner.”

She doesn’t look away or nod that she understands. Instead, she takes a step toward me, placing her hand on my chest. She’s so close I can smell her shampoo. Leaning forward, her soft lips press to my cheek. I suck in a deep breath, using every ounce of self-control in my body not to turn my lips to hers.

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