Never Have I Ever Read online

  Never Have I Ever

  Lauren Blakely

  Contents

  Copyright

  Also By Lauren Blakely

  About

  His Prologue

  Her prologue

  1. Zach

  2. Zach

  3. Piper

  4. Zach

  5. Piper

  6. Piper

  7. Zach

  8. Zach

  9. Piper

  10. Piper

  11. Zach

  12. Piper

  13. Zach

  14. Piper

  15. Piper

  16. Zach

  17. Zach

  18. Zach

  19. Piper

  20. Zach

  21. Piper

  22. Zach

  23. Piper

  24. Piper

  25. Zach

  26. Zach

  27. Piper

  28. Zach

  29. Piper

  30. Piper

  31. Zach

  32. Piper

  33. Zach

  34. Piper

  35. Zach

  36. Piper

  37. Piper

  38. Zach

  Epilogue

  Another epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Lauren Blakely

  Contact

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 by Lauren Blakely

  Cover Design by Helen Williams. 1st Edition, 2019

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This contemporary romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This book is licensed for your personal use only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with, especially if you enjoy sexy, hilarious romance novels with alpha males. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Also By Lauren Blakely

  Big Rock Series

  Big Rock

  Mister O

  Well Hung

  Full Package

  Joy Ride

  Hard Wood

  One Love Series

  The Sexy One

  The Only One

  The Hot One

  The Knocked Up Plan

  Come As You Are

  The Heartbreakers Series

  Once Upon a Real Good Time

  Once Upon a Sure Thing

  Once Upon a Wild Fling

  Sports Romance

  Most Valuable Playboy

  Most Likely to Score

  Lucky In Love Series

  Best Laid Plans

  The Feel Good Factor

  Nobody Does It Better

  Unzipped

  Always Satisfied Series

  Satisfaction Guaranteed

  Instant Gratification

  Overnight Service

  Never Have I Ever

  Special Delivery

  The Gift Series

  The Engagement Gift

  The Virgin Gift (coming soon)

  The Exclusive Gift (coming soon)

  Standalone

  Stud Finder

  The V Card

  Wanderlust

  Part-Time Lover

  The Real Deal

  Unbreak My Heart

  The Break-Up Album

  21 Stolen Kisses

  Out of Bounds

  Birthday Suit

  The Dating Proposal

  The Caught Up in Love Series

  Caught Up In Us

  Pretending He’s Mine

  Playing With Her Heart

  Stars In Their Eyes Duet

  My Charming Rival

  My Sexy Rival

  The No Regrets Series

  The Thrill of It

  The Start of Us

  Every Second With You

  The Seductive Nights Series

  First Night (Julia and Clay, prequel novella)

  Night After Night (Julia and Clay, book one)

  After This Night (Julia and Clay, book two)

  One More Night (Julia and Clay, book three)

  A Wildly Seductive Night (Julia and Clay novella, book 3.5)

  The Joy Delivered Duet

  Nights With Him (A standalone novel about Michelle and Jack)

  Forbidden Nights (A standalone novel about Nate and Casey)

  The Sinful Nights Series

  Sweet Sinful Nights

  Sinful Desire

  Sinful Longing

  Sinful Love

  The Fighting Fire Series

  Burn For Me (Smith and Jamie)

  Melt for Him (Megan and Becker)

  Consumed By You (Travis and Cara)

  The Jewel Series

  A two-book sexy contemporary romance series

  The Sapphire Affair

  The Sapphire Heist

  About

  Never have I ever been so infuriated by a man I wanted to kiss.

  They say opposites attract, but I beg to differ. Combust is more like it. Because every single time I talk to Zach Nolan, I see red.

  The too-good-looking, too-smart, too-effortlessly charming single dad who works down the hall from me has turned getting under my skin into a sport. Call it the battle of wits between the wedding planner and the divorce attorney.

  Trouble is, when we're forced into closer quarters planning an engagement party for our best friends, I start to see his other sides.

  And I fear I'm falling for the enemy.

  ***

  I'm not out to make friends. My goals are simple -- fight till the end for my clients, and my family.

  The last thing I need is a vibrant, outgoing, snarky, and surprisingly big-hearted wedding planner to spend my precious free time with...except, watching Piper bond with my daughter just might break down the cinder block walls I've built around my heart these last few years.

  Second chances don't come around for guys like me...or do they?

  His Prologue

  Zach

  Present day

  Don’t believe what you hear about me.

  I’m not that much of an asshole.

  Well, maybe I am.

  But, in my defense, I’m paid to be.

  The thing is, beneath the he-has-no-heart exterior, I swear I’m not a bad guy. I’ll give up my cab for an old lady, I’ll hold the elevator for anyone, and I don’t ever complain that my neighbor has four dogs, even though that’s against the co-op rules.

  Because, hey, I like puppies.

  So I must be a good guy, despite what some say.

  He has a heart carved from ice.

  It’s as black as night.

  He doesn’t have that beating organ in his chest.

  Those rumors made me who I am today. No one comes to my office because they want a soft touch or a shoulder to lean on. I’m not a “there, there” guy. I’m the guy they want beside them when they go into battle.

  If being the go-to guy in
life’s roughest times makes me an asshole, slap the title on my office door. I’ve been called that and worse too many times for it to bother me.

  That’s the problem.

  Because suddenly—as in out-of-the-blue, what-the-fuck-is-this-feeling?—it drives me absolutely crazy what one person thinks.

  I don’t even want this particular person in my life.

  In fact, I want her out of it. She’s the enemy.

  But by the time the news about London comes, she’s superglued to my world, whether I want her here or not.

  And I don’t want her here. I don’t want anyone. Or anything, ever again.

  I swear I don’t want her.

  No matter how good she looked that night when I started to see her in a whole new way.

  Her prologue

  Piper

  Ten years ago

  I have one of those faces that’s easy to forget.

  Not ugly. Not beautiful.

  Simply . . . pleasant.

  Works for me.

  I call it the Blender Factor. I’m like that fruit you put in a smoothie and no one quite knows if it’s strawberry or orange or apple. You take a sip, you try to figure out what that taste is, and it’s sort of an everything fruit.

  That’s me. I’m the everything fruit.

  It comes in handy in all sorts of situations, kind of like a good party trick. Somehow I just fit in.

  Like now, at 4:04 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon at the swankiest hair salon in Manhattan, as Adrien finishes Sasha’s hair.

  His time-warp-fast hands sweep her platinum-blonde locks into a gorgeous updo that looks absolutely stunning when he adds a jewel-studded comb, one I helped the bride pick out several weeks ago at Katherine’s flagship jewelry shop on Fifth Avenue. She only tried on seven types of hair accessories, so all in all, that was easy as pie to find.

  “The pièce de résistance,” Adrien declares, with all the particular panache a silver-fox hair stylist to the chicest brides in Manhattan possesses. After he secures the comb, he kisses his fingertips then blows the kiss to Sasha’s hair.

  “Wishing you luck. Though of course you don’t need it.” He swivels the plush leather chair toward the scalloped mirror, giving the bride a view of her finished hair.

  Sasha gasps.

  I clasp a hand to my chest. “You look beautiful,” I tell her. She tilts her chin up and flashes me a pink-glossed smile. “Do I really?” Nerves are stitched tightly through her tone.

  I nod vigorously, squeezing her elbow for emphasis. “One hundred percent. Wait. No. You are one hundred fifty percent beautiful and one hundred fifty percent stunning.”

  She smiles, sighs contentedly, then looks to Adrien for his reassurance too. “What do you think?”

  He parts his lips to speak, but a boisterous redhead from one booth over cuts in. “Sasha-bear, you look so damn perfect they’re going to need a new word for beautiful fucking bride.”

  Tania’s still slurring her words a touch too much for my taste. No surprise. Tania required the most babysitting at the bachelorette party last night, I was told.

  “Yes. She does look magnifique,” Adrien adds, sliding into his native French.

  Tania slashes a bridesmaid-knows-best hand through the air. “No. She’s more than magnificent. Sash, you’re the most gorgeous bride I have ever seen.”

  Oops.

  Here’s the thing. Sasha looks amazing, but there’s a fine line to walk with brides, and Tania blundered right over it. Never tell a bride she’s the most beautiful ever. They know that’s bullshit.

  Sasha senses the exaggeration, rolling her eyes. “You’re so sweet, Tania-loo, but that’s impossible. I can’t be prettier than Beyoncé.”

  Tania stumbles, trying to walk that back. “But I didn’t think we were counting Beyoncé.”

  Sasha shakes her head. “You can’t not count Beyoncé. She was the most stunning bride ever, and likely will be until one of the royal boys marries.” Sasha looks to me. “Wouldn’t you say?”

  I’d say there’s nothing I want more than to see a royal wedding. Unless it’s to be invited to a royal wedding. Or better yet, be hired for a royal wedding by a royal bride. Well, not true. I want Harry or William to invite me. Better yet—I want whoever their brides are to hire me.

  But I’m not going to say that.

  Because here’s the other thing about brides.

  You can’t say she’s the most beautiful bride ever, but you also can’t acknowledge a world in which she’s not.

  I lean in closer to look at Sasha in the mirror. Sasha, who’s required nine dress fittings; four bridesmaid tailorings; six cake shop visits, each time with a cake spittoon, lest actual cake calories be consumed (by the bride, that is, since you bet your sweet buttercream ass I swallowed rather than spat when it came to cake); twenty floral shop bids; and five check-ins with the tux shop of the “Please don’t let Robert mess up the cummerbunds” variety. I smile at the bride, amazed we’ve made it to within mere hours of her nuptials without a full breakdown. There’s only been a couple of half breakdowns so far, so I’m knocking on wood.

  Hers is the biggest wedding I’ve scored in my three years as a wedding planner, thanks to Jessica, one of my friends from college and one of Sasha’s bridesmaids. She knows Sasha through work and referred me to her. This is the most important wedding I’ve planned by miles, and I want it to go perfectly as much as the bride does.

  So it is with complete honesty that I say to Sasha, “All I know is when Robert sees you walking down the aisle, he is going to think you’re the most beautiful bride. And you look absolutely stunning.”

  There. That’s how you praise a bride. I should know. I was a bridesmaid six times before I turned twenty.

  Like a toddler, Sasha opens her arms wide, inviting me in for a hug. “You’re the best wedding planner ever, Piper,” she says, wrapping her arms around me.

  “That’s why I won’t let you squeeze so long and risk ruining your makeup.”

  Sasha beams as I disentangle from her. “That’s what I’m talking about. You are the best.”

  I check my watch. It’s 4:11. One hour and forty-nine minutes until showtime. “We should go. Let me gather the girls.”

  I spin around, ordering—nicely—the quintet of bridesmaids out to the waiting limo. “All right, lovely ladies. Let’s hit the road and get this beautiful woman hitched.”

  They squeal in concert as they gather their purses.

  “You’re going to look breathtaking walking down the aisle,” Tania coos as she heads toward the bride.

  The other four chime in too—Madison, Praveen, Dawn, and Jessica all bestow their compliments on the bride, like perfect bridesmaids.

  “Thank you. Oh my God, I’m so excited for my wedding,” Sasha says as she stands.

  “You should be. Look at your perfect hair.” Tania lifts a hand as if to touch Sasha’s do.

  Adrien winces and waves her off. “Do not touch the art, love.”

  Tania stumbles, pitching forward then covering her mouth.

  Mayday, Mayday.

  Leaping forward, I grab the redhead before she can yak all over the woman of the hour and tug her away just in time to launch her lunch onto the floor.

  A wail splits the air.

  A shrill, piercing, blood-curdling cry from the bride. “I can’t believe you did this! I told you not to drink so much.”

  Tania clutches her stomach. “I didn’t know the cosmos were so strong,” she cries before she christens the tile with more of her stomach contents.

  My nose crinkles. Yes, those cosmos were indeed bodybuilder strength.

  Sasha stomps her foot. “I knew you were going to ruin my wedding. You’re a total bridesmaid-zilla. And you can’t walk down the aisle now, barfing all the way up to the front of the cathedral.”

  Yeah, that’d be bad.

  Sasha whips her head to me as I aim Tania as far away from the bride as possible. “What are we going to do, Piper?”

&nb
sp; It’s the most desperate question I’ve ever heard from a bride.

  Tension flares through every nerve in my body. Worry threatens to strangle me. I need this wedding to go off well. I need it to be talked about. I need to become part of the whisper network in New York’s bridal circles.

  This is one of those do-or-die moments. This is when I rise to the occasion or fail.

  With my arms circled around a heaving bridesmaid, I weigh the options, limited as they are.

  Send hungover Tania down the aisle to potentially hurl on the minister, the bride, the mother of the bride, and/or any and all assorted guests.

  Let one groomsman make the walk solo, which will rattle Sasha’s OCD need for an even number of men and women.

  Enlist someone from the wedding attendee list who’s the same size as Tania to stand in.

  Run away from the problem.

  Or something else entirely.

  I rub Tania’s back and raise two fingers of my free hand, smile apologetically, and offer myself as tribute. “I’m about the same size.”