Page 80 of Addicted

I blinked, the memory hitting me heavier than I expected.

Stone didn’t ask for shit. He demanded it. But he’d looked at me in the dark and said please. How the hell was I supposed to say no to that?

“Brady,” I said, walking over to him. “This looks amazing.”

It really did look like a damn cookout straight out of a magazine.

He looked up and smiled. “Thank you, Miss Indie. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect for your guests.”

“You did that,” I said, looking over the spread again. “Seriously, this is incredible. Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” he said, turning back to the grill.

I was about to go find Stone in his office when Ava appeared in the doorway.

“Miss Indie,” she said. “Your guest has arrived.”

My heart jumped. Aurora was here.

I hurried inside and made my way to the front of the house, practically running to the driveway.

When I stepped outside, I saw a blacked-out SUV parked near the entrance. The back door opened, and Aurora stepped out.

Our eyes locked and she squealed so loud I thought the neighbors three miles away could hear her.

“Bitch!” she screamed, throwing her arms in the air. “Look at this fuckin’ mansion! My bestie living large! As you should!”

I laughed so hard I almost doubled over. I ran over to her and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said.

“Girl, are you kidding?” Aurora said, pulling back to look at me. “I’ve been counting down the days. Now show me around this palace!”

I grabbed her hand and led her inside.

***

I gave Aurora the full tour.

Showed her the kitchen, the living room, the theater room, the game room, the gym. Her commentary the entire time had me damn near in tears with laughter.

“This kitchen is bigger than my whole apartment!” she said, running her hand over the marble countertops.

“Wait, y’all got a whole theater? With recliners and shit? Indie, what the fuck!” she said when I showed her the media room.

When we walked into the main living room, her eyes landed on a big ass painting on the wall. She looked at me and exclaimed, “Bitch, you got a Picasso in yo’house?”

We both just busted out laughing when she said that shit. She knewATLwas my movie.

By the time we made it to my design room, I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.

Aurora stepped inside and her mouth fell open.

“Oh my God,” she said, walking over to the sewing machines. “Indie, this is crazy.”

She walked around the room, touching the fabrics, looking at the sketches I had pinned to the wall, examining the dresses and matching sets I’d already made.

“Girl, you made these?” she asked, holding up one of the dresses.