She hoped that Hallie wouldn’t say horror; she hated scary movies and didn’t know why she’d even suggested the genre. Probably because when she’d started using the TV a few days ago, she’d noticed there were a few of them on Hallie’s recently watched list. They were dwarfed in comparison to the selection of Disney movies, though.
“How about I put on a classic Disney movie?” Brynn chanced.
Hallie yawned at the same time she said, “That sounds good.” Then she curled her body sideways, toward Brynn, using the back of the sofa as a pillow.
The movie started playing, with characters that Brynn recognized by sight but couldn’t possibly name. She carefully leaned forward so that she could blow out the candles, trying not to disrupt Hallie when she did.
When she relaxed back against the sofa, she was immediately enveloped in the warm combination of the plush blanket they’d been nestled under, Hallie’s cuddled frame, and the alcohol still buzzing in her veins.
She yawned, knowing it wouldn’t be long before she drifted off to sleep, too. And as she felt her eyes fluttering closed, in that in-between place between sleep and awake, Hallie shifted her head, using Brynn’s shoulder as a pillow.
“This ended up being a really good New Year’s Eve,” Hallie said sleepily, cuddling into her like an animal burrowing down for a cold winter.
Brynn smiled and rested her own head on top of Hallie’s, pulling the blanket up higher.
Yeah, it really was.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Why?” Hallie wailed to no one in particular as the ringing coming from somewhere nearby continued to assault her ears.
She lifted her head, which was shoved face-first against… polyester, she finally decided. She also accepted, without needing to look in a mirror, that there was no way her cheek wasn’t indented with creases from the material. Waiting on standby for three hours, finally getting on a flight that had two layovers, drinking enough whiskey through it all to tranquilize a horse, and… she’d still wound up sleeping on a sofa.
The irony was not lost on her.
There was a blessed, blissful moment of silence until the ringing started again. Somehow, it seemed louder this time. The culprit, her phone, had vibrated closer to the edge of the coffee table.
She’d left it there—she thought about last night, which was coming back slowly in bits and pieces—somewhere between hexing Grant and putting on a movie.
There was a lot of gray area in between.
She tried to decline the call but realized too late that she’d hit the “Accept” button when Sydney’s voice floated through the speaker. “Hallie? What am I looking at here?”
Hallie’d picked up the phone backwards, so if she had to guess, it was a chance for Sydney to read her tragic palm line. “One second,” she groaned.
Not her best work, as she leaned on her elbow and scooted her body up toward the arm of the sofa to use it as a pillow. She managed to turn her phone around, though, without dropping it. She knew, with every fiber of her being, that getting herself into an upright position wasn’t going to be possible. Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton, and she looked around for anything to quell the disgusting texture.
It was then that she noticed a bottle of water, a thermos, and a packet of ibuprofen sitting on the coffee table.
Brynn.
Hallie knew that the rest of the night would come back to her once she finally woke up, but she must not have done or said anything too embarrassing if Brynn had left her the thoughtful lifeline this morning. Or that was just Brynn, she was learning, and Hallie needed to remember exactly what she’d said and done with The Stone’s Throw’s newest employee last night.
“Hal?” Sydney’s voice asked again. Hallie couldn’t see her best friend; she’d set the phone down to tear into the medicine with all the delicacy of a bear ripping through a campsite. She’d seen it firsthand before, and it had done nothing to improve her opinion of the great outdoors.
Sydney was waiting for her, she remembered, as she tried to make her thoughts come into focus. “Still getting settled over here. One second.” She chugged the water, along with the pills, and opened the thermos up with fingers that weren’t winning any awards for dexterity. “I’m here,” she finally answered, lying on her back and holding the phone above her.
She watched as Sydney squinted down at her, likely taking in her pathetic state. “Sorry. I figured that you’d be up by now. It’s after eight there, right?” During her trip, she’d regaled Sydney with—complained to, more accurately—all of her daily comings and goings in Colorado. The early mornings. The lack of privacy. Her sleeping accommodations. Sydney moved even closer to her screen. “Are you back? In Stoneport?”
Sydney had spent much of her childhood in this very apartment, hanging out with Hallie, and earlier this year, Sydney had lived in the extra bedroom that Brynn was staying in for three months, after she’d retired from professional tennis. Which was all to say, there was no point in lying to her best friend.
Hallie nodded, trying not to aggravate the cramp in her neck. “I got back last night.”
“Did something happen?” The genuine concern in Sydney’s voice was appreciated, given that she knew Hallie had a lot going on right now.
Speaking of… Hallie blinked away the last of her tiredness. “Did you do it?” she whispered, like Reese wouldn’t be able to hear if she was sitting close by.
The smile that overtook Sydney’s face was magical. “She said yes. I cannot believe she said yes.”
