“I’ve noticed.”
“You’re changing her, you know.”
I give her a small smile as my heart warms. “I know.”
She crosses the kitchen and pats my arm. Before passing me and heading down the hall, she says, “Keep it up, Romeo.”
“I’ll try.”
She whips around with surprise on her face. I don’t have time to ask her what’s wrong. Instead, she holds up a finger, telling me to wait. She dashes to her bedroom, and I don’t have to wait long for her to reemerge. Heading to me, she holds out a calendar with a woman in a bikini.
I take it from her questioningly. “What do you want me to do with this?”
A mischievous grin takes over her face. “So you can keep track of the dates.”
I look at the calendar’s year. “This is from two years ago.”
She nods like a bobblehead. “Good night, Reid.”
Frowning, I watch her retreating back, wondering what the hell just happened. Instead of leaving the calendar behind, because I don’t want to hurt her feelings, I take it with me back to my apartment.
CHAPTER 20
AVERY MOORE
This isthe worst hangover in the history of hangovers.
I groan as I flip over in my bed and stare at the ceiling. At the same time, a soft knock comes on my door. I don’t bother answering, and it doesn’t matter anyway because Ivy lets herself in.
Squinting at the hall light, I make a hissing sound.
“Oh good, you’re up,” Ivy croaks. “Did we do a lot of screaming last night? My throat is so hoarse.”
I shake my head and then frown. “I don’t know. It’s all a little jumbled.”
She steps into my room, and it’s then that I see she’s holding a Gatorade in one hand and a bottle of Tylenol in the other. Slowly, I sit up, making sounds of a grateful person as I greedily grab both items.
I pop two pills and down it with half the Gatorade bottle while she takes a seat at the edge of my bed.
“How did we get home?” I ask after my last swallow.
“Reid,” she answers, pushing her messy hair out of her face.
My eyes go wide. “Dustin?”
She shakes her head and flops back onto my bed, her legs dangling off the edge. “He doesn’t know.”
“Thank God.” I set the Gatorade beside me and rub the sleep from my eyes. My eyes swivel about the room and land on the mirror. My mouth drops open in horror. “Did I look like this last night?”
My hair looks worse than Ivy’s, like I spent the day tangling it into knots, and my makeup is smeared across my face.
She giggles. “No. I have pictures to prove it too.”
I breathe a sigh of relief and then climb off the bed. “I need a shower,” I admit as I hobble to my closet, gather my clothes, and head to the bathroom. When I’m finished and my teeth are brushed, I comb through my hair as I head back into my room. Ivy is gone already, probably to Dustin’s so he can spend the day nursing her hangover.
Sitting on my bed, I continue to get the knots out of my wet hair, and when my phone’s text alert goes off, I head to my dresser where someone put it last night.
I set the brush down and pick up the phone. I frown and open it up. My heart stops dead in my chest at the picture of me in the bikini from two years ago…attached to Reid’s text.
