Abigail stopped picking her lip and no longer looked nervous, but afraid. “You’re going to that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
A long silence stretched. Waves crashed—or maybe it was the blood rushing in my veins. Abigail worked her mouth into a twist, like she wanted to say something, like it was eating her up not saying it.
Before she could, my two best friends bounded into the room. Their loud laughter crashed into whatever moment had existed. Abigail gave me a lingering look, her brows knit, and then left.
“Was that your sister?” Kennedy asked, flopping on my bed. “Why was she here? Don’t you hate each other?”
I never answered. I called hair and makeup, and my friends turned the prep into a party. Kennedy lounged across my bed in a silk robe, sipping champagne straight from the bottle.
There’s my girl. My good girl.
I shook my head, trying not to think about what had happened there mere days ago.
Blaire was sprawled on the floor with a pile of jewelry cases, holding each piece against her throat to see what caught the light best.
I sat before my gilded vanity while two stylists tugged and twisted my hair into place, pinning it into something elaborate enough to look effortless. Another smoothed serum across my skin, her hands brisk and practiced.
Just a few short hours later, we were ready.
“The Aston Martin—” Blaire held up her car keys in one hand, as if to offer thechoice. “—or a driver?”
The sun had fallen, in its place a clear black winter night. The moon was full, and my skin felt electric.
“Neither,” I said. “Let’s walk.”
Aftermuchcajoling, we stumbled along the beach, toward the Underworld.
“It’ssocreepy out here—ah!” Kennedy jumped. “Whatwasthat?”
Blaire started cackling, holding up some kind of long, feathery flower.
“You’re such a dick.”
Kennedy stumbled in a small dune of sand. “Heels aresonot meant to be worn in this shit.”
“So take them off,” Blaire deadpanned. We both held our shoes in our hands.
“But what if someone sees me?” Kennedy whined. “The outfit doesn’t work without them.”
We walked a little longer in silence, Kennedy tripping every so often. The moon was so full and bright every grain of gray sand was illuminated, shimmering like stardust.
“Are we going to talk about how Gemma brought a Horseman to tea?” Kennedy asked.
“The hot one too,” Blaire said.
Their heads turned in unison over their shoulders, back at me. I’d managed to be under the Horsemen’s thumb for years without anyone noticing, but now in a matter of days my perfect, pristine reputation had taken hit after hit.
The worst part?
I kind of…well, I kind of enjoyed it. So I knew without a doubt I had to do everything in my power to stay away from that side of me.
“I, um…” I struggled to think of an explanation. “I…I needed a hookup.”
“They do delivery now?” Kennedy looked like a kid who’d just learned her favorite toy came in a different color.
“Maybe it’s, like, a frequent-flier perk,” Blaire said, and they both laughed.
