Book 1: A Little Complicated

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐"5 ⭐ isn’t enough for this book! A Little Complicated is one of the best books I have ever read, it is beautifully intricate and captivating from start to finish with touches of spice. --Amazon Reviewer

I grew up with the Buchanan twins.
Wreaking havoc. Playing hockey. Causing chaos.
Almost all of my memories involve Archer and Maverick.
Then I started dating one of them.
Archer Buchanan is perfect.
He’s sweet. Attentive. Passionate.
He’s everything a girl could ask for in a boyfriend.
And I love him so much.
The problem is…I love his twin brother even more.

Prologue  - Ophelia

“You know, the only reason I’m going to prom tonight is so I can meet Mystery Man and make sure he isn’t a dick, right?” Dylan asks. She’s my cousin as well as my best friend, and it’s been killing her how she’s yet to meet the infamous Mystery Man I’ve been dating. Her determination to ensure he measures up to her standards is the only reason she agreed to go to prom tonight. By the look of things, I think she might regret her decision as she stands in front of the floor-length mirror in my bedroom, examining her outfit and fiddling with the skirt. Her dusty blue dress makes her aquamarine eyes pop even brighter, and the sweetheart neckline and tulle fabric make her look straight out of a Cinderella movie despite the skirt not being too full or fluffy. But even the fairytale-esque dress does shit to hide the anxious energy radiating off her.

“Dylan, you look gorgeous,” I tell her. 

She forces herself to stop fidgeting with her skirt, turns to me, and shamelessly checks me out. “Ditto. We almost look like we know how to dress up for these things.”

“Almost,” I repeat with a grin while smoothing the black satin fabric along my stomach in front of the bathroom mirror. My bedroom is connected to a private bathroom, leaving us plenty of room to chat while getting ready without feeling squished or running into each other.

“Are you nervous?” she asks. “To introduce the family to your infamous Mystery Man?”

Mystery Man.

I roll my eyes, but the butterflies in my stomach continue flapping away despite my laid-back facade. Nervous doesn’t even begin to cover everything I’m feeling. Anxious. Excited. Terrified. The list goes on and on.

I’ve never had a boyfriend. Even the title gives me anxiety. But I’ve been dating Mystery Man for a few months, and it’s been…kind of awesome. 

Okay, the term dating is sort of a stretch. It’s more like stolen kisses, sexy rendezvous, and late-night phone calls, but I think those still count. After all, he’s taking me to prom tonight, which is insane on so many levels, especially considering he'll be a senior in college in the fall. Prom was his idea, not mine. Which, in my opinion, gives it even more weight.

So yeah. We’re dating… I think.

“Yeah, you’re totally nervous to introduce him to me,” Dylan decides. A wry grin plays on her full lips.

I give her the side-eye in the mirror.  “It depends. Are you going to be a brat when you meet him?”

“Hey, I’m the nice one,” she argues, lifting her hands in defense. “If you want to worry about anyone being a brat when meeting the man who stole your heart, it’s Finley.”

With a laugh, I pull the mascara wand from its pink tube and lacquer my lashes. “Then I guess it’s a good thing Finley’s across the country, isn’t it?”

“Yup. Pretty sure you dodged a bullet until Mystery Man’s forced to face her at LAU in a few months.”

LAU is the university we’re all attending in the fall, but Dylan’s right. Mystery Man is in for a rude awakening once we all move in, that’s for sure. 

“But for tonight,” Dylan continues, “he’ll only have to deal with your family and me. As long as he isn’t a dick, we should be good to go.”

“Mm-hmm,” I hum. “And you’re most likely going to be too busy attempting to make conversation with your own date to interrogate mine, so I call it a win-win.”

She groans and collapses onto my bed. “Don’t remind me. Why are boys the worst?”

“Boys aren’t the worst.”

“Uh, yes, they are,” she argues. “Every time I’m in the same room with one, I get all tongue-tied and awkward.”

“Technically, you only get tongue-tied around the hot ones.”

Her nose wrinkles, and she tosses a pillow at me. As I dodge the lump of feathers, she adds, “You’re not helping!”

I laugh a little harder. “No offense, but with two older brothers who both play hockey and have hot friends who also play hockey, you’d think you’d be used to hanging out around good-looking guys by now.”

“Well, yeah, but—” 

My phone rings, cutting her off.

Seeing Mystery Man’s name flash across the screen, I grin.

“Let me guess,” Dylan murmurs as she climbs to her feet. “Mystery Man?”

My smile widens as I answer the call. “Hello?”

“Hey,” his low voice rumbles.

“Hey,” I repeat. 

Silence.

My brows pinch. “Everything okay?”

“I’m, uh, I’m not going to make it tonight.”

“What’s going on?” I turn away from Dylan’s concerned stare and face the empty shower instead. “We talked an hour ago, and you told me you’d be coming right after your doctor’s appointment.”

“I know what I said,” he mutters, his concession laced with defeat. “Look.” He hesitates. “This is a bad idea.”

“What? Prom?”

Silence. 

“Okay, so we won’t go,” I offer. “It was your idea anyway.”

“You know what I mean, Goose.” The stupid pet name doesn’t give me any warm fuzzies, and I close my eyes.

Is this really happening?

My bedroom door closes with a quiet click, ringing louder than a siren, pulling me back to our conversation. With a quick look over my shoulder, I find the room empty. Dylan must’ve slipped out, sensing my need for privacy.

The girl’s a saint.

Who would’ve thought I’d need it right now.

Shifting my cell to my other ear, I let out a slow breath and walk into my now-empty bedroom. A chill falls over my skin. My body is on full alert, my muscles poised for fight or flight despite not being in any danger. It’s like my body already knows what I don’t want to accept, and a tremor races along my spine. 

 “Seriously, what’s going on, Mav?” I ask. “Where are you? Are you close yet? Maybe we can talk about this in person.”

“Ophelia…”

The silence following my full name sears me, and I collapse onto the edge of my bed. I don’t like it. The quiet. The heaviness. The way my skin feels tight and cold, then hot and uncomfortable. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Another beat of silence passes, and nausea churns in my stomach.

“Are you breaking up with me?” I repeat. My voice is stronger this time, but even I can hear the twinge of desperation. It makes me sound so immature. So stupid. Of course, it does. I might be a senior in high school, but Mystery Man? He’s in college. The fact he even gave me the time of day is a miracle. I mean, to be fair, I kind of jumped his bones and didn’t exactly expect it to turn into anything in the beginning, but now that it has? Well, he got my hopes up, dammit. 

The silence continues stretching, and my nerves get the best of me, so I push, “Just answer the question.”

“We were never together,” he rasps. “Not officially.”

“Says the guy who told me I’m his, right? Yeah, it makes this so much better.” I mock. “You’re ending things over the phone and bailing on me an hour before my senior prom after twisting my arm to let you take me in the first place. Gee, thanks. You’re a real peach.”

“You don’t think I already feel like shit?” 

“Then don’t bail on me,” I beg. “My parents, and my sister, and Dylan? They’re all dying to officially—”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he interrupts.

“Harder than it has to be?” I look down at my dress. “I’m literally sitting on my bed in my prom dress. My makeup is done. I curled my hair. None of which would’ve happened if you hadn’t asked me in the first place.”

“Look, I know how fucked-up this is. I know what I said when I asked you, and…I’m sorry. I know it isn’t enough, but…I’m sure you can find someone else to take you.”

“You’re right,” I say with a laugh. “A whole slew of seniors are waiting at my door, praying my date will fall through. And what do you know? That’s exactly what happened.” A scoff slips out of me. “Ya know, you were the one who wanted to take this to the next level.”

“Yeah, and I was wrong,” he mutters. “Like I said, I’m sorry, but…I’m trying to do what’s best for you. It is what it is.”

“It is what it is?” I repeat, convinced I’m hallucinating because this guy? He’s cold and indifferent and…a fucking asshole. 

“I don’t know what else you want me to say, Ophelia.” The same heavy dose of resignation taints his sigh as he adds, “I’m sorry.”

“Can we talk—”

“I gotta go.”

He hangs up the phone, and I touch my lips with my fingers, willing the burn behind my eyes to go away, when a light knock echoes from the opposite side of my bedroom door.

Dropping my phone onto the mattress, I blink my unfallen tears away. “Come in.”

The door opens with a soft squeak, and my mom, Blakely, rests her shoulder against the doorjamb, her expression pinched. “Hey. Everything okay?”

“Dylan already told you?” I ask.

She grimaces. “She may have voiced her concern.”

“Of course she did,” I mutter as my mom walks into my room and sits beside me on the edge of the bed.

“What can I do?” she asks.

“Nothing. Actually, scratch that. I want ice cream,” I decide. “Lots and lots of ice cream.”

“Your Aunt Ashlyn would be so proud,” she muses, mentioning Dylan’s mom. “She’s a big believer in ice cream fixing everything, but I have another idea for this particular situation.”

I frown. “What is it?”

“Well, Mia mentioned the twins are coming back from LAU tonight. They’re staying for the weekend. What if Archer takes you?”

Archer.

He’s my best friend. Well, other than Dylan and Finley. We text daily and talk about everything with each other. Everything except dating. The idea of actually going on a date with him? It feels like I’m crossing a line, one we’ve both drawn without ever discussing it. And after everything with Mystery Man? I’m pretty sure the timing couldn’t be worse.

“That’s a bad idea,” I murmur.

“Why? He’s your best friend.”

“It just is.” After the phone call, I’m feeling on edge. Like a shaken-up can of soda ready to explode at any second, and it’s a real possibility if I can’t get my emotions under control. 

Breathe, I remind myself.

I shove my feelings deep down inside my chest cavity like a garbage compactor on steroids, adding, “Archer’s probably busy tonight, anyway, and Dylan’s date will be here in less than an hour. It’s not like Archer can be ready in time. Speaking of which, I’ve gotta tell Dylan her date needs to drive since we were all planning on riding in Mystery Man’s car. Shit.” 

I start to stand, but my mom stops me. “Don’t worry about the driving arrangements yet. We’ll figure it out. As for Archer being ready in time, I’m pretty sure he can steal one of his dad’s tuxedos. Actually, I’m almost sure he already owns one. Those boys have attended events fancier than this since they were babies.” 

My lips press together, knowing she’s right. Their parents are freaking billionaires. Literally. Those boys have been attending fancy soirees since before they could walk, so of course, Archer has a tux. But it doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to go with him.

“What if I mention it to his mom?” she suggests. “Let her feel him out and see if he’d be okay taking you?”

“And make me the pity-party prom girl who can’t keep a date?” I stick out my bottom lip. “No, thank you.”

“Too late!” Dylan chimes in from the doorway. “I already texted Archer.”

My adrenaline kicks into full gear, and my eyes cut to hers. “You did what?”

“I texted Archer.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re not allowed to miss prom because your Mystery Man is a dick.”

“Who is he, anyway?” my mom asks. “I want to know what name I should be cursing.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I fist my hands in my lap and shake my head, my emotions threatening to ruin my makeup. “He doesn’t matter.”

“Lia,” my mom murmurs.

“Clearly, it’s over, and…” I sniff. “I don’t want to talk about him. I need to figure out tonight, and—”

“We’ve already figured out tonight,” Dylan says. “Like I said, Archer’s gonna take you.”

“It isn’t Archer’s responsibility—”

“He already said he’ll be here in thirty,” Dylan interrupts, tapping the edge of her cell against her chin. “So there’s nothing you can do about it.”

There’s a lump in my throat, but I swallow it back, willing away the stupid burn in my eyes–again–and lick my lips. “He said he’d take me?”

“Duh. Archer loves you,” Dylan reminds me.

It’ll be fine. Everything. Will. Be. Fine.

“See?” my mom offers. “I knew he’d be happy to take you. What do you say? Are you ready to dance the night away?”

I sniffle and stand, pulling on my proverbial big girl panties and letting out a slow breath. “Okay. I’ll go.”

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