Alek is the reason we unraveled, and I’m relieved he finally sees it. Now, he’s working to mend what’s broken in himself and between us.
That doesn’t let his best friends off the hook. They played their part. No matter how hard I tried, they always kept me at arm’s length. Looking back, that should have screamed red flag.
One day, I’ll have my say with them. For now, they’re background noise, barely worth my attention.
So when Alek finally called and asked me out for real, I was ready.
Nervous, scared, excited. I was all of it, but damn, I was ready.
I’d wondered how I’d feel when the moment came. I wasn’t sure I’d say yes. But every day, Alek reveals a better version of himself, and I keep falling deeper into us.
As much as it’s scary, it’s also exhilarating.
He kept the destination a secret, just told me to dress casually.
Flirty, but fuckable, as Everleigh says.
“What the hell are you hollering about?” Everleigh grumps as she stomps into my bedroom and plops onto my bed.
Everleigh’s been a damn firecracker since Grimm’s betrayal. He keeps trying to worm his way back, but he clearly never met her stubborn, petty side before.
She barely talks about what happened, bottling it all up. I worry about the day it bursts. Until then, I’ll keep reminding her I’m here, no matter what.
“I don’t know what to wear,” I moan, tossing another shirt over my shoulder.
“Clothes,” she mutters.
“Helpful.”
She nods when I peek my head out of the closet. “I know.” Then she sighs. “Wear that smokey colored blouse that has the lace on the chest. It makes your eyes and tits pop. Also, your pair of tight jeans with the holes in them that make your ass look good.”
I snatch them up, feeling my panic finally start to fade. “Shoes?”
“Your Converse.” She nods at the blouse in my right hand. “Flirty.” Then points at the jeans and shoes in my left. “But fuckable.”
With my outfit in hand, I settle beside her on the bed, rest my head on her shoulder, and together we watch the world outside in comfortable silence.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she says while she shakes her head, contradicting her answer.
I slide my hand next to hers and offer my pinky. In our friendship, pinky promises are sacred. Unbreakable vows that mean you’re about to bare your soul.
“Pinky promise?” I whisper.
“No,” she croaks.
I wait, hoping she’ll open up. When her breath brushes my cheek, I know she’s about to let me in.
“I saw them today,” she admits. “Grimm and his wife.”
“Seriously?” I growl. “I thought he told you they were finally getting a divorce?”
Everleigh shrugs. “So he said, but he lied the entire time we were together.”
“Maybe they were meeting about the divorce?”
“Maybe. It looked pretty damn intimate, though.”
