Forever in Cape May (The Sunshine Sisters #3) by Jennifer Probst

Prologue

Seven Years Ago

“Dude, that was weird.”

Taylor Sunshine and Pierce Powers were lying in the twin bed in Taylor’s dorm room. The party had been the usual—loud jocks, giggly girls, and too much alcohol. Taylor had lost at beer pong—God, that game sucked—and had been pretty tipsy when she’d left. Of course, Pierce had spotted her and insisted on walking her back. He’d gotten her to the bed and then turned to leave, and her hug/lunge ended up bringing him down on the mattress next to her. After a good laugh, she’d looped her arms around his neck to pull herself up, he’d leaned closer, and they’d . . .

Kissed.

She’d waited for fireworks and the shattering knowledge that he was the one. Her sister Bella had met the love of her life in junior high school and said she’d always known they’d get married. But other than the softness of Pierce’s lips and his familiar scent that always comforted rather than aroused, Taylor felt a pleasant hum and then . . . nothing.

He groaned into the red plaid pillow. “This isn’t happening. You are not telling me my kissing was weird.”

“That’s not what I was saying! I said the kiss was weird, not your specific kissing style. Did it feel a bit like incest to you, too?”

He let out a noise into the pillowcase and climbed off the bed. “I’m outta here.”

“No, I’m sorry.” She caught his hand and pulled gently back. “Stay. The room’s still spinny, and I’m afraid I’ll get sick.”

She refused to feel guilt at his concerned expression. She needed to have him close tonight: the boy she’d grown up with and the man who knew her best.

He sat back down with a frown. “Do you need water?”

“Not yet.”

“You need to breathe slow and focus. Want me to put on the TV?”

“In a minute. Look, I’m really sorry. We swore we wouldn’t do that again.”

His face tightened with irritation. “We were fifteen, Taylz. It was a miracle we didn’t end up playing doctor earlier.”

Her nickname softened the rough edges of his statement. “That’s my point. We both felt nothing and promised we wouldn’t muck up our relationship with crap like feelings and sex, and here I went and attacked you. It wasn’t fair.”

He laughed and she relaxed. Thank God she hadn’t hurt him. They’d met freshman year in high school, when they’d been assigned as lab partners. He was an A student; she was a C. He’d ended up tutoring her all semester, scared shitless she’d tank his grade, and a friendship had immediately bloomed. Other than that one experimental kiss, they’d been best friends who’d had each other’s backs, all the way past graduation. She got accepted into Monmouth, and he attended Montclair a short distance away. They’d been able to hang out on a regular basis and keep the same closeness from high school.

“You should be studying poetry, not performance art,” he said with a roll of his pale-green eyes. “I swear, you’re nothing like the other girls I know. And I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

She fluffed up the pillows, leaned back, and motioned him closer. “Come sit next to me, and you can insult me all you want. I deserve it for sticking my tongue in your mouth.”

“We didn’t get that far,” he muttered, still obviously annoyed by the whole scene. But he took his place next to her, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

A relieved sigh ballooned into her lungs and then softly out. Warmth flowed in her veins from the alcohol, and the darkness masked the shabbiness of her tiny, cluttered room. She leaned her head against his broad shoulder—beefed up from lifting weights and boxing—and breathed in the scent of cotton, soap, and tequila. His jean-clad legs were crossed at the ankles. She’d seen a ton of girls checking him out at the party and knew he never lacked for a date or anything else he wanted. Pierce was a good-looking guy. Unfortunately, many of his partners talked, and talked loudly, confiding all the yummy details she didn’t want to hear, so she also knew he was good in bed.

Still, she knew she got the very best of Pierce Powers, the part that no one else could ever claim.

Loyalty. Friendship. Trust.

“You forgive me?” she asked softly, nudging his shoulder. “I’m a bit drunk, and Will just broke up with me. I think I was feeling sad and kissed you on impulse.”

He snorted. “You broke up with Will, and we went out specifically to celebrate your freedom, remember?”