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One from each of the guys. I recognize their styles.
It's...
I blink back a tear.
Emma bounces out from behind the desk. "Surprise. Sort of." She throws her arms around me. "I really am glad you're here."
"Me too." I hug her back. Emma is the best. This would be impossible without her.
"Didn't you throw her a party last week?" Dean moves out from his suite.
"It was her birthday." Emma steps aside. "This is different. And it's for you too. It's so cool that you're buying the shop." She turns to me. "You should have seen that meeting. Dean actually wore slacks."
"Really?" That's hard to believe.
"Don't worry. I don't mind you picturing me without my jeans." He winks. "All these parties too much fun for you, yet?"
"No. It's sweet." It really is.
He moves in to hug me hello. It's sincere—a rarity for him. I really do feel like he's glad I'm here.
I pull back with a smile. "Why are you complaining about the chance to get drunk and make a fool of yourself?"
He laughs. "That's why I like you. Sharp tongue."
My gaze flits around the room. There's Ryan and Walker lining up bottles on the front counter. But where's Brendon?
"I'm not complaining." He releases me and turns to Em. "I'm making sure I get an invite."
"You're a little old..." She smiles, reveling in her teasing.
He mimes being stabbed in the gut. When that gets her laughing, he takes it further. Pretends to double over. Falls to his knees. Mumbles his last words as he falls backward and lands on the floor, splayed out.
Emma nudges him with the toe of her shiny silver stilettos. "Dead. Let's check his pockets."
"Pervert," he mumbles.
"Not the word I'd use." Ryan steps forward. He nods to me in that I don't think there's any reason why we need to show compassion toward each other Ryan kind of way. "You're always welcome here, Kaylee."
"Thanks." I study his expression. Should we hug? Shake hands? Uh... I step forward. Move my hands out from my sides.
Ryan pulls me into a hug. It's quick. Messy. Awkward. He steps back, wipes his brow, sighs. Let's never do that again.
Dean jumps to his feet. He actually jumps from his position flat on his back. That's circus acrobat stuff.
He looks to Walker. "You joining this party too?"
Walker shrugs, effortlessly cool. He's the type who takes everything in stride. Nothing bothers him. Or so he claims.
He's a lot like Brendon, really. He's tall and broad with dark hair and dark eyes. He has that same tendency to keep everything to himself. But, with Walker, his typical state is fun, party boy. With Brendon
it's serious, quiet artist.
They're the same, but they're opposites too.
He takes his turn hugging me then motions to the booze set up behind us. "What are you drinking?"
Uh... making a fool of myself at my party was bad enough. I'm not doing it in front of everyone.
