“Yeah, okay,” I agree, smiling back at her.
“Yes? YES? Oh my God, I thought for sure you’d turn me down. Oh my God.” She runs to grab her phone, looking something up before saying, “Tonight! It’s tonight!”
“What is?” I ask.
“Silly me, I must have forgotten to tell you last night, with all your boy drama being the star of the show,” she says, holding her phone out to me. “Reverb is playing a private show tonight. It’s VIP, and I’m on the list, babe. You’re my plus one, of course.” She blows a kiss my way. A private show? I’m immediately on alert as to what Sabel might be up to. But Idoneed to talk to Van.
“Lydia,” I deadpan. “What do you mean youforgotto tell me this? I was trying to figure out how to contact Van for an interview. And how the hell did you manage to get pit tickets and then VIP right after?”
“I dunno.” She waves a hand in the air. “I didn’t want you trying to work at afunevent. You know how you are. Anyways, this is super exclusive, like fifty people max. We have a booth with free bottle service. It’s gonna be a good time. This is exactly what you need. The details are neither here nor there. Say thank you and enjoy it.” She’s such a little ball of bouncing sunshine and energy, and I decide not to ruin the mood with any further questioning. If anyone in Hollowcrest can score back-to-back ticket gold, it’s Lydia Aston. Though something tells me a certain blonde woman is behind this.
“You’re right,” I cave. “I do need this. And I’m excited, Lyd. Thanks for the invite.”
“Of course, babe. I’m gonna head out, grab some things to get ready, and come back in a few hours, okay?” she says, walking toward the guest bedroom to grab her purse and keys. She exits the room and makes her way to the door, throwing her shoulder strap over her arm as she does.
“Oh, and Sloane?” She turns toward me. “Forget about the professor. No one worth it will walk out on someone as special as you. He doesn’t deserve you.” Before I can respond, she walks out and closes the door behind her.
? ? ?
I spend the next hour soaking in a warm tub, relaxing. Lydia’s words don’t stop playing in my mind.
“He doesn’t deserve you.”
I look down at my phone for the millionth time to see that Riven still hasn’t texted. I’m trying hard not to overanalyze this for more than what it is. My control freak brain wants to categorize his behaviors into “friends with benefits” and “something more” piles to help make sense of it. But maybe there’s nothing to make sense of. He gave me two mind-altering orgasms, and that was that. Why does it need to be more? Can’t two equally attractive, single, consenting individuals do just that? I sink until my head is under water and scream, only once, before coming back up.
I get out of the tub and towel off, throwing on an oversized T-shirt to get ready in. I walk to my closet and pull out a pair of ripped black skinny jeans and a lace green crop top, my wrist cuffs, and my Doc Martens. I blow-dry my hair and decide to straighten it today. I’m getting ready to start my makeup when Lydia makes it back. I hear her running up the stairs. I pull out a deep red lipstick, black eyeliner, and black mascara and place them on the vanity.
“Loooooooo. The party has arrived, and I brought refreshments,” she sings, walking through my room and into my bathroom.
“One for you.” She hands me a Jell-O shot injector filled with something blue. “And one for me.” She keeps one that’s filled with red Jell-O, setting down a bucket containing a few more.
“Jell-O shots?” I ask, looking down at it. “Are we going to a college frat party or a VIP event?”
“Fine, if you don’t want it, then I’ll take it back. More for me.” She reaches for the one she gave me, laughing, as I step back. I bring the injector to my lips and push until it’s all in. I swallow and cough at the burning sensation in my throat.
“Wow, Lo. Youmustwant to erase Professor McDickFace from your brain, huh?”
I almost choke on the Jell-O at her new nickname for him.
“I’ll have another,” I say, grabbing a green one and injecting that one straight into my mouth, too.
“Okay, okay. Slow down, crazy pants. Point proven.” She laughs, grabbing her makeup bag.
? ? ?
We finished the Jell-O shots early in our makeup routine, and a slight buzz is starting to creep through my veins as we head downstairs to wait for our Uber. The driver arrives, and we climb in, laughing again at Lydia’s absurd new nickname for Riven.
“2653 Cedar Point, right?” the driver asks, looking back and interrupting our ridiculous laughing fit.
Lydia clears her throat like she’s been scolded by the preacher during a church service. “Yes.” She looks back over to me, and we giggle some more, leaning into each other.
The venue isn’t far from my apartment, and we arrive with plenty of Lydia-approved time. No lines are wrapped around the building today, and we are escorted directly in and to a closed-off booth with a sign on the round table in the center that reads “Aston.” The guy escorting us opens the chain and lets us in.
“Wow,” I whisper, leaning into her. “Soofficial.” Lydia slaps my arm.
“I told you. Being a hair stylist in this city has its perks. One of my clients left me the tickets earlier this week. Though there was no sender on the envelope, and my boss said the person wanted to remain anonymous,” she says as we move toward the middle of the booth.
“Ms. Aston.” The voice belongs to a shorter, pretty woman with brown hair and honey-brown eyes. She’s wearing a long-sleeved, white button-down shirt that’s tucked into a black skirt. Her name tag reads “Shelby.” Shelby carries a bucket of ice with a champagne bottle in it and two glasses on a round serving platter. She sets it down on the table in front of us.
