The woman is stronger than she looks.
I fish my keys from my pocket and drop them into her palm. “They’re my only set. Don’t lose them in your ridiculous purse.”
Although she makes a point to roll her eyes, she tucks them into her bag, and I wonder if she’ll ever find them again.
LOREN
Freaking Josh.
That’s all I can think as I check my phone for what feels like the hundredth time only to find no messages and no missed calls.
I haven’t spoken to my boyfriend since he left for California. I guess it’s my fault for assuming when he asked me to call him that he’d answer.
If Meg hadn’t gone back to Ohio for the weekend, I’d be out with her, drowning my sorrows in cheap beers at a stale bowling alley.
Instead, I’m here with my neighbor and his cousin, who is currently making out with one of the hot twins.
This wasn’t the plan.
Wine and leftover crab cakes had been in my future, but the thought of sitting around my apartment stewing for yet another night sounded like hell, so I made an executive decision.
It’s not like there’s anything going on between Elliott and me.
We’re friends.
Sort of, anyway.
Josh will get over his jealousy.
Or he won’t.
To be honest, I’m starting to not care either way.
What kind of boyfriend leaves without calling even once, just to say he made it safely to the hotel?
This coming year is supposed to be the year of Loren Piper but with the way this one’s finishing up, I’m not so sure the next one is going to be any better.
The second twin rolls her hips to the beat of the music, both hands raised over her head.
How is she not freezing in that dress? She’s not even wearing any hose.
Elliott returns with four plastic cups pinched in one hand and three in the other. When he hands me mine, I ask what it is.
“Diet Coke.”
Huh. “How did you know I like Diet Coke?”
“There were at least five empty cans in your trash can.”
Maybe I should be appalled that he noticed what was in my trash; instead, I’m reluctantly impressed. This is how low my standards have become. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” He mixes what I assume is a shot of liquor in with the sodas, handing them out to the others in our party. His twin doesn’t stop moving even as she swipes the cup and drains the whole lot.
“Your date seems fun.” I feel bad for shouting at him, but it’s the only way to hold a conversation with all this ruckus.
His top hat tilts as he eases closer. “Yeah. She does.”
“Don’t you want to dance with her?”
