A loud team.
A kitchen-disaster team.
But a team all the same.
Chapter thirteen
Natalie
"You married him and didn’t tell us the good parts," Mia says, sliding a margarita across the table toward me.
"There are good parts," I say, taking a sip. "I just don't kiss and tell."
Harper leans forward immediately. "Wait… you kissed? What else did you do?"
"New marriage clause," Mia agrees. "We need details."
Annabelle rolls her eyes. "C'mon, girl. We need some juicy details."
Robin's eyes light up. "Ohhh, we’re talking after-hours highlights."
Annabelle lifts her drink. "For the sake of female curiosity everywhere."
I shake my head, laughing. "You guys are ridiculous."
"Natalie," Mia says patiently, "your husband is a six-foot-something NHL winger who could make half this club forget their own names. You're not escaping this conversation."
"Fine," I say, pretending to think about it. "He's tall. He cooks dinner. He's very good with Maddie."
"Those are husband points," Harper says. "We need spicy points."
"I said I don't kiss and tell," I remind them.
Annabelle leans closer anyway. "So the answer is yes."
"The answer," I say carefully, "is that I'm not complaining."
Five women stare at me.
Robin lifts her drink slowly. "Your eyes just sparkled."
"That’s the lighting," I say.
"That’s denial," Mia says.
I take another sip of my drink, letting them keep going.
Because the truth is… they’re not wrong.
I don’t remember when I stopped going back to my room.
Just that I did.
And somewhere along the way… it started to feel natural.
Music thumps through the club and the DJ shifts to something louder. Colored lights sweep across the dance floor and the whole place feels like a glittery hurricane of people.
"Enough interrogation," Lila says, grabbing my hand. "Girl's night means dancing."
