To writeMake your own happily ever afterto Stevie Scott, the woman Iris had rejected, refused, lied to. The woman Iris was too fucking scared to make any kind ofever afterwith. The woman who, after all that, still preordered Iris’s book from Claire’s store, wanted Iris to sign it.
“Fuck,” she said, her eyes starting to sting.
“Oh, honey,” Claire said.
“I’m fine, just...” She shook her head, forced herself to think of something else, anything else, anyone. She closed her hands into fists, squeezing until she felt the sting of pain from her nails.
Nothing helped though.
Stevie... make your own happily ever after.
The inscription felt like a jab, a cruel joke, and she knew she could never write that to Stevie. She couldn’t imagine writing anything.
She stood up suddenly, taking Stevie’s book with her. “Can we go? I’m ready to get out of here.”
Claire frowned, eyes flicking down to Stevie’s book in Iris’s hand. Iris crushed the book to her chest, and Claire glanced at Brianne, shook her head slightly. Iris didn’t comment on it, she just needed to leave. Now.
“Claire.”
“Okay, yes,” Claire said, but she sounded anything but excited about the whole thing. “Brianne, you’re okay to close up?”
“Of course,” Brianne said, her pink bangs in her eyes. “Congratulations, Iris.”
“Thanks,” Iris said. “And thank you for a wonderful event.” Her voice shook, her fingertips fizzy as she slipped Stevie’s book into her bag. She’d figure out what to write to Stevie, mail it off herself.
“I hear we’re heading into the den of iniquity?” Delilah said, walking toward her. Astrid and Jordan hovered by the door with Simon, their heads close together as they talked, glancing at Iris with worried expressions.
“Yes,” she said firmly, chin up as she looped her arm with Delilah’s and spun her around, looking at each of her friends right in the eye in turn. “It’s time to celebrate and I’m looking for the hottest piece of ass I can land.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
IRIS WAS SURROUNDEDby dry humping.
Literally, it felt like everyone in this bar was coupled up and grinding on each other. But then again, she supposed that was the point of a bar like Lush, which was crowded tonight, with dim lighting, custom fall-themed cocktails, and music that felt like it was written for sex.
It was the perfect place to get lost in. Iris looked around, looking for anyone who might be looking back. She leaned against the bar, hip out, martini glass half full and held lazily in one hand. All the nonverbal cues forI’m down to fuck.
Only problem was, Astrid was sticking by her side like glue while Jordan and Simon had some serious conversation at the end of the bar. Claire and Delilah were... well, they were part of the dry-humping scene on the dance floor, which was a little disturbing and also a complete delight.
“This is... interesting,” Astrid said, clutching her bag to her chest with one arm, a glass of white wine in the other. She was very obviously trying not to look at Claire and Delilah.
“Oh, baby’s first queer bar,” Iris said, petting Astrid’s blond hair.
Astrid rolled her eyes and batted Iris’s hand away, but a small smile settled on her mouth before she went back to watching everything with a slightly stunned expression. She’d worn three-inch heels to the bar, pairing them with cuffed jeans and a fitted navy blazer. She was like a queer Ann Taylor.
Iris laughed when Astrid’s mouth dropped open as two men whipped off their shirts and then continued their grinding.
“Well,” Astrid said, sipping her wine.
“Welcome, my darling,” Iris said, and Astrid grinned, clinking her glass with Iris’s. The current song ended, drifting into another, but Claire and Delilah headed toward them at the bar, laughing and holding hands.
“I forgot how much I love dancing!” Claire shouted over the noise.
“I can’t believe I’ve never brought you here before,” Delilah said, her arms wrapping around Claire’s waist from behind. “All those times Iris dragged my ass here, I could’ve been...” She trailed off and whispered something in Claire’s ear, something that turned Claire’s face bright red—visible even in the dim light—and made her giggle.
“Jesus, you two,” Iris said.
“Oh, they’re cute, leave them alone,” Astrid said as Jordan came up silently behind her, slipping a hand around her waist. Simon ordered a beer and sat on a stool.
