“I’m not being stubborn.” I protest. “I’m protecting myself.”
Claire leans in, purple hair framing her heart-shaped face. “From what, exactly? The possibility of finding out he actually had a good reason for leaving without saying goodbye?” she asks, her eyes softening.
“No,” I snap. “From the possibility of being stupid enough to fall for him again.”
Now that my bottle is empty, I feel the sudden urge for something stronger. Reaching across the table, I grab the bottle of bourbon Sasha’s been drinking and take a swig.
The table goes quiet. Sasha reaches over and squeezes my arm.
“Honey, maybe talking to him would help you finally move on,” she suggests gently. “You’ve been carrying this around for far too long.”
“I just don’t want to deal with his bullshit excuses,” I insist, voice wavering.
“Fair enough,” Reyna says, taking a sip of her wine. “But you know what they say about the best kind of revenge...”
“Oh, yeah? Tell me, Rey. What’s the best kind of revenge?” I deadpan with a quirk of an eyebrow.
“Getting laid,” she corrects with a wicked grin. “When was the last time you had a good bounce, Liz?”
Heat rushes to my face. “That’s none of your business.”
It’s been almost a year. Whatever. I’ve been busy, okay?
“So... quite a while then,” Noia teases.
I throw a mini packet of peanut M&M’s at her head, which she dodges easily, laughing.
Tossing a card down on the table, I sigh. “Well, if you must know, my poor hoo-ha is practically spitting out dust.”
All of my friends burst out laughing.
“What about Carter?” Sasha suggests as she swipes tears of laughter from her eyes. “He’s clearly into you.”
Downing another mouthful of bourbon, I shake my head. “I don’t mix business with pleasure. Besides, he’s my apprentice. I need a better way to drive Rowan out.”
“You could get a pet tarantula,” Reyna suggests, grinning wickedly. “Let it loose in his apartment.”
That makes me snort. Rowan would have a freaking heart attack.
“Just be super loud during sex,” Claire suggests, examining her cards. “With multiple partners. Screaming out their names.”
She says those words so casually, it makes me spit my bourbon back into the glass Sasha handed me in annoyance after my second swig from the bottle. “I’d need to actually be having sex for that to work.”
“I’ve got it!” Noia slaps the table, making us all jump. “Bagpipes.”
“Where the hell would I get bagpipes?” I ask, laughing despite myself.
“Amazon delivers everything,” she shrugs. “Or you could take up the violin. The screeching alone would drive anyone crazy.”
“What about something more subtle?” Reyna muses. “Like, you could start leaving weird stuff outside his door. Creepy dolls. Random notes. Make him think the place is haunted. Or,” she says, drawing out the words, “that he has astalker.”
“Ooh, I like that,” I say, warming to the idea. “I could play some creepy whispers and scratching noises through the wall at night.”
“Earlier you mentioned blasting your music,” Sasha suggests. “Why don’t you start with that?”
I nod slowly. “That could work. A little late night metal just might do the trick.”
Girls’night ends a little earlier than usual. Sasha has a client first thing in the morning, Claire has inventory to do, Noia’s got an early meeting with her editor about her latest romance novel, and Reyna has a shift at Lakeside Fire, Search & Rescue.
