We tried to make it work—to grow our friendship into something more for the sake of our families. But it was easier when we were younger. The older we got, the more we resented the situation we put ourselves in. I grew colder, and Kincaid grew distant.
We became different people.
Sometimes I wonder how we got to where we did. Other times, I wonder how it took so long for us to fall apart completely.
“Knock, knock,” a friendly voice says through the door when I still haven’t answered.
My eyebrows pinch as I run the towel through my wet hair. None of the clubhouse girls want me here, so I doubt it’s them. But the voice on the other side is gentle and feminine.
I toss my towel aside and make my way to the door, finding a smiling face when I swing it open. A tiny girl with blonde and purple hair leans against the doorframe.She has a bottle of tequila in one hand and rum in the other.
“Margaritas or piña coladas? Aimee refuses to choose, and Reagan and Tempe can’t drink since they’re pregnant, so it’s up to me and you.”
I have no idea who this girl is, why she’s here, or who she’s talking about.
My eyebrows pinch. “Have we met?”
“Oh, sorry.” She pops off the doorframe, smiling wider. “I’m Luna, Ghost’s old lady. I figured you might feel like getting out of this room tonight since Chaos has been a horrible host and refuses to introduce you to anyone.”
“Oh.” I try to process everything she just said. I met Ghost once in passing, but he barely told me his name, much less that he was in a relationship with someone who is clearly his opposite, given she’s chatty and he doesn’t seem to say much. “Okay. Well, I’m Willa.”
“I know.” She holds the bottles up. “So, tequila or rum?”
I’m actually more of a beer drinker, but I don’t want to be rude, so I choose the lesser of two evils. “Rum gives me a headache, so I’m definitely more of a margarita girl.”
“Margaritas it is. Are you almost done getting ready?”
I look down at my T-shirt and slippers. “I didn’t know I was supposed to be getting ready. I was about to get into bed.”
“Not tonight,” Luna cheers. “The girls all have babysitters, and no one is throwing up, which rarely happens anymore. We’re partying.”
Behind Luna, music filters down the hallway. It seems like the club parties every night. Music blasts at allhours. But Luna makes it sound like tonight’s gathering is something special, and she’s so friendly I feel bad turning her down.
“It’s casual, don’t worry. You can wear whatever you want.” Her gaze runs over me. “Pretty sure I’ve worn what you’re wearing on more than one occasion, although Ghost gets a little handsy when I skip the pants, if you know what I mean.”
She winks, and I’m pretty sure I know exactly what she means.
I laugh. “All right, sounds like fun. Give me ten minutes.”
“We’ll be on the back patio. See you soon, Willa.” Luna disappears down the hallway, and I close the door, feeling a little better than I did a moment ago.
I have friends back home, but these past few years, I’ve been isolating myself. Disappearing into my head and checking out. It feels good to be seen by someone. Luna’s welcome is the lifeline I didn’t know I needed.
I get dressed quickly and decide not to bother with my hair. It’s wavy from the shower, but not nearly as curly as it gets with the humidity in Texas. I tie the wet strands back in a braid and pat my cheeks to draw out the color. I’m not trying to impress anyone, but I’m presentable.
At least, that’s what I think until I turn the corner into the bar at the back of the clubhouse and realize I’m severely underdressed. My oversized black T-shirt and shorts are far more casual than the tiny dresses the club girls are walking around in. Their faces are perfectly painted, and each one is more beautiful than the last.
It’s no wonder Dean has barely looked at me since I’ve been here. Between these girls and the ones who dance at the strip club, I’m boring. Just like I was back in high school, standing in the corner wearing band T-shirts, jeans, and cowboy boots, while the prettiest girls hung all over him.
I knot my T-shirt, showing off a tease of my stomach. It’s nowhere near as sexy as the dresses the girls are wearing, but it tightens the fabric around my breasts, which is one of my curvier assets.
As I walk through the party, I draw the attention of a group of girls near the bar.
A blonde who seems to be the ringleader watches me. She leans in to say something to Wren, and then they both turn their backs, shutting me out. There are only a few faces I recognize. Venom watches from across the room, but Dean isn’t here, and neither is Soul. Other than that, I don’t know any of their names. I haven’t tried to get to know anyone in my time here, and Dean hasn’t bothered to introduce me.
I hurry to the patio, cutting through the mass of bodies.
“Willa! You made it.” Luna pops up when I step outside, handing me a margarita. “Everyone, this is Willa. Chaos’s…” She looks at me, letting the introduction hang as she waits for me to define our relationship.
