And it feels like shit.
11
Loving You, Loving Me
Reese
Some birthday.
Warren slobbers over my neck as the song we’re dancing to throbs to an end.
“So I got a gift for you.” Warren picks his head up as the song comes to a close.
Warren. I scoff at him a second. I would never have even pulled him onto the dance floor if it weren’t for the fact he was about to rip Ace a new one—and that was for sure not the way I wanted to tell Ace I’m in love with him, not with Warren in the front row with his fist at the ready. I made a vow to myself that I’d share my feelings with Ace today even if I had to do it via text message, but he’s back from his trip, and I get to tell him in person. My entire body lights up like a Christmas tree at the prospect.
“A gift?” I feign interest while I scan the crowd for Ace.
“Yeah, I’ll let you sit on me tonight.” He grabs his crotch and shakes it. “I’ll make sure all your birthday wishes come true.”
“No thanks.” I give his shoulder a quick swat as I turn to leave.
“I get it.” He steps in front of me. “You’re still pissed.”
“Yes, I’m still pissed. And, by the way, we have to sit our parents down and tell them we’re not really engaged. In fact, I’m hoping to tell my dad tomorrow. They’re leaving for a trip oversees—”
“I know, Japan.” His jaw clenches. “I work at the office, remember? Look, wait until after the trip. They’ve got a long flight, and they’ve got enough bullshit to deal with. Trust me, they don’t need you adding any drama to it.”
“We can’t wait. They get back on the fifth. We’ll be back at Yeats by then.”
“We’ll do it over the fucking phone.” He shrugs as if it were no big deal. “Besides, that’ll give you another solid week to figure out you’re wrong about this whole thing.” He spots someone off in the crowd and nods over to them. Warren mock shoots me as he steps in their direction. “We’re still engaged. You know you want it. It’s going to be me and you in the end—Westfield and McCarthy just the way it’s supposed to be.” He melts into the crowd, and I shake my head disbelieving. Warren is proving harder to get rid of than head lice.
I pluck out my phone to text Ace, and Neva pops up with her hair teased in a beehive, dark rings circled around her eyes but strangely enough she’s still pretty. It would figure that Neva could pull off the night of the living dead look. She’s always been stunning.
“My brother wanted me to give you a message,” she growls as she pans the crowd behind me. “He said meet him at the boathouse in an hour.”
My mouth opens, but not a word flies out.
“His phone died.” She shrugs before turning to take off.
“Wait.” I pull her back by the elbow, and she’s quick to yank free. “Thank you—for relaying the message.”
“You’re welcome. So I guess, happy birthday. You turned into the happy little slut I always knew you could be.” Neva dives back into the crowd without missing a beat.
I pump a dry smile. The truth is, I miss her. I miss her voice, her hugs—the smell of her perfume. Maybe I’ll add Neva to the queue of people to have a talk with right after Ace, Warren, and Dad. Hopefully each one of them will understand what I have to say.
A body bumps into mine, and I jolt forward.
“Let’s do this, Westfield!” Brylee hooks her arm in mine and starts spinning us in a circle. Her boobs try their hardest to spring free from those eye patches she has them harnessed in.
“Easy.” I glide us to a stop. “I’ve got a date in an hour, and, unlike you, it’s not with the bottom of the toilet.”
“I’m not tanked.” She tries to hold up a finger, and it flails in front of her.
“You will be.”
“So you’re collecting on the big gift in an hour huh?” She grinds her hips into mine.
“It’s more than that. I’m telling him how I feel tonight.”
