“Coming!” I croaked, though it came out more likedying goose noises.
I stumbled off the couch, tripped over a pillow, and kicked the wine bottle under the coffee table in a panic. Then I did a speed run through the apartment: ran a hand through my hair (disaster), checked the mirror (bigger disaster), and grabbed the nearest sweatshirt I could find.
The pounding started again, followed by Lydia’s singsong voice. “I can hear you tripping over furniture!”
Of course, she could.
I yanked the door open and squinted into the bright morning light.
“You’re too cheerful,” I groaned. “It’s offensive.”
She stood there in her puffer coat, scarf tucked around her neck, cheeks pink from the cold. She looked like an advertisement for the perfect small-town morning.
“Well, someone’s chipper,” she said, stepping inside. “Rough night?”
I glared. “Define rough.”
She took one look at the couch, the empty glass, and the wine bottle peeking out from under it and raised an eyebrow. “Ah.”
“Don’t judge me.”
“Oh, I’m not judging,” she said, setting her gloves on the counter. “I’m just observing. For future reference.”
I groaned again and stumbled toward the kitchen for water.
When I turned back, she was glancing around the apartment, her expression subtly shifting from curious to…something else.
Her gaze landed on the second wine glass beside the sink.
Onto the faint shadow of boot prints near the door.
And then she looked at me.
“Where’s Drew?”
My heart jumped so hard I nearly choked on my water. “What?”
“Drew,” she said, gesturing vaguely at the room. “You had dinner. He was supposed to be here. Where is he?”
I waved a hand, pretending like it was nothing. “Gone. Left last night.”
She frowned. “Left? Why?”
“Because that’s what he does,” I said, then immediately regretted how bitter it sounded. “I mean, it was late. Snowing. You know.”
She gave me thatI was born yesterday but not stupidlook. “Melanie.”
I sighed and sank onto the couch, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders again. “We kissed, okay?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Finally!”
“Don’t say finally,” I muttered.
“Why not? It’s been brewing since, what, the dawn of time? Usually, you two sneak off and get it over with right away.”
I groaned into the blanket. “It was a mistake.”
“Oh, honey.” She perched beside me, rubbing my arm. “What happened?”
