The Difference Between Someday and Forever (The Difference Trilogy Book 3) by Aly Martinez

Author:Aly Martinez [Martinez, Aly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Difference Trilogy Book 3
Publisher: Aly Martinez
Published: 2022-03-23T18:30:00+00:00

Remi

On the shallow end of the jacuzzi tub, facing a very naked, very wet, and very buff man who’d obviously spent a lot of his newfound free time at the gym, Harley What’s His Name, I couldn’t remember having a better time in my life.

Dinner was great.

After dinner was still better.

My feet propped on his shoulders, I struggled to keep my head above the water. I sloshed around to keep my eleventeenth glass of wine from going under with me.

He was laughing and tipping back a bottle of beer we’d had delivered along with my massive bottle of Sav Blanc. We’d ventured way past phony names and occupations to family members and adventures we’d never taken. Three sheets to the wind, we were now on fake stories for the scars we had all over our bodies.

“Mmmm,” I began as I swallowed. “See this one?” I turned my head to the side and moved my hair out of the way for him to get a glimpse of the six-inch scar that ran from the back of my ear to the middle of my scalp.

“Looks like a doozie. Let me guess…” Adorably, he squinted and rocked his jaw side to side as he contemplated a whopper of a story. “I’ve got it. Dollar beer night at a drag show.”

“Close. My head almost got cut off in a plane crash.”

He stared at me, pained for a beat, but I laughed hysterically and the water nearly splashed out of the tub. The quasi truth was equally as ludicrous as the lies. But it felt good to let go of some of the seriousness and just fucking laugh. At lies. At funny pop culture references. But mostly at ourselves.

“Good thing almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,” Bowen said, trying and succeeding to once again get lost in the moment.

“Ah, man. A hand grenade would have been a good one.” I almost fell out of character but rebounded quickly. “And what a coincidence since that’s how I lost both of my arms in a freak war museum catastrophe.”

We howled.

“What are the odds?” he asked, placing his empty bottle on the floor beside the Olympic-sized bathtub.

“I don’t know. You’re the nerd. You tell me.”

He flipped my ankles off his shoulders and pulled me closer to him by the backs of my knees. “How dare you. I’m not a nerd, Raven.” He paused long enough to smolder. “I’m a bad boy.”

I humored the nerd and urged him to go on. “That’s so hot, Admiral Steele. Tell me more.” I used his official title despite his warning about how he was undercover for the Canadian Navy. Then I set my glass behind him, and, while I was leaning forward, I climbed up to straddle him.

“I put my jeans on straight out of the dryer even though the rivets burn like hellfire,” he stated as proof before brushing my hair back and peering deep into my eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol or all the acting practice we’d done that night, but he was getting more and more convincing by the minute.

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