“You absolutely are. And that’s fine. But let’s get you home first,” Riley says.
They pay the bill while I try to stand without swaying. I mostly succeed. The Uber ride home is a blur of streetlights and Christmas decorations and me talking non-stop about Jax and the business and how my life is finally coming together.
“You’re really happy,” Maggie observes.
“I’m really drunk.” I hiccup.
“That too. But you’re also happy. I can tell.” She smiles.
She’s right. Despite the alcohol, despite the fear, despite everything—I’m happy. Actually, genuinely happy.
They get me inside Riley’s apartment, and I immediately collapse on the couch.
“Drink this,” Riley commands, handing me a glass of water. “And take these.” Ibuprofen.
“You’re a good friend.”
“I know. Now drink,” she says, pushing the glass to my lips.
I obey, downing the water and pills. Maggie grabs me a blanket and pillow.
“Get some sleep,” she says. “We’ll deal with everything tomorrow.”
“I need to call Jax.” I pout.
“Tomorrow,” they tell me.
“No. Now. I need to tell him now,” I argue.
They exchange glances again.
“If we let you call him, will you promise to go to sleep after?” Riley asks.
“Promise.” I grin.
“Fine. But we’re staying right here to make sure you don’t say anything too embarrassing.”
“Everything I say is embarrassing.” I giggle.
“Fair point,” Riley teases.
I pull out my phone and stare at Jax’s number, my heart pounding.
“What if he doesn’t answer?” I ask them.
“Then you try again tomorrow. But he’ll answer. He always answers,” Riley assures me.
I hit the call button before I can change my mind.
It rings once. Twice.
“Sloane?” His voice is surprised. Hopeful. “Is everything okay?”
And just like that, hearing his voice, all my carefully planned words disappear. “Hi,” I breathe. “I’m drunk.”
“Oh, well, hi, drunk.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “What’s going on?”
“I’m calling because ... because I need to tell you something. Multiple things. So many things.”
