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Her man clutches his heart, and most likely is clutching his pearls in his head, too. “Of course it is, my dear. It violates our very etiquette and manners of being modest.”

“You know, you sound kinda like my spinster aunt.”

“Thanks, babe!” he says.

And this marks the one and only exclamation mark used in the entire book.

He comes back holding oversized sweatpants for himself and a pair of wrist-length and ankle-length swimsuits for Lily-girl.

“Where did you get mine from?” Lily asks him, ever curious about the world around her—just the mindset her first-grade science teacher trained her to have.

“Can’t remember, babe. But I just have it.”

Alright then. Quite sketchy, but Lily will give him a pass for now.



Lily hums the national anthem to herself, since that is pretty much the only song she could hum thanks to her atrocious singing skills. The bath in the guest room after not skinny dipping had been heavenly. Running real time, warm water flowed from the shower head above while rock songs blasted through the waterproof speakers below the faucets.

Lily even tried to hum to the tune of the rock songs, but she couldn’t.

She opens a drawer, trying to find a hair dryer to tame her red mane of matted, messy hair. Every probably has one, since his penthouse has pretty much everything. A tiny ring locket greets her instead, encasing in it a short blonde lock of hair.

Huh, that’s odd.

Now the whole situation is really getting suspicious.

She pushes the thick mahogany door open, coming face-to-face with her man, Every, who is drying his hair with a small towel and is also covered in an equally small towel wrapped tightly around his waist. All this because he is the main love interest, and walking around in only a small towel is just what he does.

His pecs still drip with water from the shower, pumped, as if he had just finished sets of fifty-pound pec flies. Either that, or he did push-ups on the slippery, soapy floor while fermenting his hair in conditioner.

“Every, whose hair is this?” Lily pouts. Because there’s no way she is allowing her man to show interest in anyone else, since she is the only unique girl on the planet.

He smiles, unaware of her thoughts. “Oh, that’s mine.”

Lily gives him a mean, I’m-not-playing-around stare. “You keep your own hair? My man, I’m pretty sure your hair is brown and blonde, not blonde and blonde.”

“You see, when I was younger, my hair used to be blonde and blonde.”

Lily-girl shakes her head, splashing droplets of water from her wet hair like an untrained puppy. “I don’t have much common sense, but I’m sure that’s not how hair works.”

“Actually, you don’t have any common sense at all. My hair really was pure blonde when I was like, three or four, and it just got darker. And that is Papa’s ring, by the way. He wanted to collect my baby hair as some kinda keepsake. Papa gave it to me when I moved here to my own place so I can wear it whenever I miss home.”

At once, Lily forgives him for his mean-assed remark. “Aww, cutie, that is so sweet.”

“Of course I am. I am the cutest, sweetest buttercup in this whole galaxy.” Every brings his hands up to cup his face in that accursed flower pose.

“You sound like Darth Vader.” Then she remembers something important that she had previously forgotten to discuss with him and decides to just change the subject just like that. Because she is Lily-girl, and changing the subject of the conversation at her will is just what Lily-girl does. “Every, we finally overcame the threat, the villain. It’s time for our happily ever after now, isn’t it?”

“Nah, there’s also the third act breakup after this.”

She raises an eyebrow, her confusion heightened to even more than her natural state of it. “What about this whole shit that went down about your blonde lock of hair? Ain’t that enough?”

“Nah, that was like, three sentences long. It doesn’t count, babe.”

“Then what, man? I thought that our story would avoid the third-act breakup; it’s so fucking annoying.”

He thinks for a moment. “Alright then, let’s skip that. Wanna go to the mall? I’ll buy you a car, a bar, a star—whatever my sugar likes. Maybe a new phone for you to replace that old piece of recycled electronics. It’s about time.”