“Let’s just hope this place has more charm than guys with whiskey breath,” I mutter.
Rachel raises an eyebrow. “You know that’s half the appeal of a pub, right?”
I groan, already bracing myself for whatever madness awaits as I force myself to roll out of bed and straight to the fridge for our emergency stash of snacks.
“Let me get an outfit together, something pub-appropriate.” I make an attempt at my best Scottish accent. Which ends up sounding more British, but who am I kidding? I definitely just sounded like an American trying way too hard.
Rachel grabs her stomach, doubling over in laughter, her entire body shakes as she gasps for air.
“It couldn't have beenthatfunny."
She wheezes between laughs, tears in her eyes. “No… itreallywas.”
I roll my eyes. “Well, clearly, I need to practice more. I’d hate to stick out like a sore American thumb. How embarrassing. After all, my familyisfrom here.”
Rachel finally catches her breath, wiping her eyes, but the moment she looks at me, her face twists in mock horror.
“If you talk likethatwhile we’re out, you will absolutely scare all the men away.” Then, her lips curve into a devious grin. “Which is exactly why youshoulddo it. Because then I’ll pee my pants laughing, and it’ll be the best day of my life.”
This is why we can’t have nice things.
I shake my head, laughing even harder now. Maybe I've got it all wrong, as long as I lethertalk first then no one will notice me.
Now we’re both in tears, and I already know I’ll be sore tomorrow from laughing so hard.
I make my way to the closet and I nearly trip over my suitcase lying in the middle of the floor.
Rachel has already made herself right at home. Her clothes are perfectly hung, and her suitcase is neatly tucked away. Bless that organized bitch that I call my best friend. My stuff has magically been unpacked and put away like I have some invisible personal assistant.
Guess she wasn’t kidding about being awake for hours.
I start rummaging through the closet for something that’s nottooextra, but still hot, when Rachel grabs her phone and Taylor Swift starts playing through the speaker.
Call me a Swiftie, call me whatever you want, butEnchantedwill forever be one of my favorites.
I eye my outfit options.
A little black mini dress?Tempting.
Jean shorts and a tank?Basically, Rachel’s entire personality.
Leggings with a cropped hoodie?The ultimate I’m casual but still hot energy…
After all the traveling, I'm not going to lie, I'm seriously leaning toward the leggings. I'm not trying to impress anyone and honestly I’m still groggy from just waking up, so comfy is calling my name.
Rachel catches the look on my face and immediately steps in like I personally offended her.
“Nope. Absolutely not.”
Before I can protest, she snatches the leggings and hoodie right out of my hands and dramatically tosses them onto the floor like they’re toxic.
“Dress or shorts?” She demands, putting her hands on her hips. “And remember, if there’s music, you’re going to be dancing with me, so choose accordingly.”
As if I hadn’t already thought of that.
I narrow my eyes, half-amused. “You act like I’m new here.”
She grins. “Just making sure.”
