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I stand to my feet, brushing off my pants, and walk into the closet to help Tatum find something to wear before she has a breakdown.

“Why don’t you just wear the dress you bought at the mall?”

“Because,” she whines, “I’m almost certain I’ve gained three pounds since then.”

“Tatum?”

“Yes?” She groans into her hands, looking all distressed. I almost laugh. Almost.

“That was two days ago. Not possible.”

“Maybe not for you.” She eyes me up and down.

“Hey!” I whack her with the back of my hand. “I’ll have you know that if I didn’t watch what I eat, I would be the size of a house. Dude—” I grab onto my hips. “—they jiggle a bit.”

She pouts, and then we both burst out laughing. “Well…,” she says, handing me the bottle of champagne, “let’s just do the alcohol diet.”

I take the bottle from her, slipping out of my skinny jeans and hoodie. “And what’s that diet?” I ask, standing in my bra and lace panties, bringing the rim to my mouth and tossing it back until the bubbles are enticing my taste buds.

She waves her hands, freaking out over a black sequin dress. “Well, we get so drunk that we no longer care about our weight.”

I laugh, taking another swig and pointing to the dress she’s holding and contemplating. “Deal. By the way, wear that dress.”

She nods and then spins to look me up and down. “By the way,” she mimics my tone, her eyes eating up my skin, “you have a fucking banging body, Madi. What the fuck?”

I turn beat red and change the subject. “Wear the dress.” I bring the wine back to my lips.

My bedroom door swings open, and I turn around with the bottle of wine pressed to my mouth, expecting Tillie to walk through.

It is Tillie. But she is not alone. Fuck.

“Holy shit!” Hunter gasps. Nate halts the door from opening any more, and then Bishop strolls in, his eyes licking all over my skin, making me feel even more naked than what I already do.

I squeal, dropping to the ground and ducking behind my bed. “Oh my God! Everyone but Tillie, get the fuck out!”

Bishop watches me, his head tilting until his eyes twinkle in mischief.

“Hey!” I point at the door. “Get. Out!”

They leave, but not before Hunter halts, his fingers gripping the edge of the door. “Just for, you know, future reference, what were you two—”

Bishop drags him out of my room by the back of his collar, and Tillie slams the door in all their faces.

“Jesus,” I mumble, getting back to my feet. “Fucking pack of unruly wolves.” Tillie is still watching the door when I burst out laughing.

“Sorry about that. I should have warned you about my stepbrother and his pack of…” I pause, attempting to find the appropriate word for them. “Of exactly that—wolves.”

Tillie turns to me and smiles. “No problem at all.” She looks down my body. “But seriously, can I have your boobs, because mine are like tiny lemons compared to those scrumptious things.”

We all laugh as she steps in closer with her bag propped over her shoulder. “I’ll get ready here.”

I nod, handing her the bottle of wine. “As you can see… we are far from dressed.”

Tatum nudges my hip with hers. “Ignore Madi. She’s a little…” She circles her index finger up near her temple to emphasize my edginess. “…crazy, because she didn’t get to go shooting after school.”

“Shooting?” Tillie asks, pulling out some clothes from her backpack.

“It’s a sort of hobby of mine.” I smile at her, and she grins at me.

“That’s badass. I’d love to learn one day.”

My back straightens at the opportunity to find someone, a friend, who is maybe interested in something I do. I know Tatum and I have grown extremely close in the short amount of time we’ve known each other, despite my thinking we couldn’t be friends, but Tillie seems like the center of Tatum and me. Sort of like… a bit of each of us.

I’m obviously a little buzzed, because my train of thought is heading into the emotional tunnel, and I need to derail that right now. Swallowing, I nod. “I’d love to take you! Get changed and drink!”

She laughs, pulling out a long-sleeved short dress that looks tight. She hitches her thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll slip into the bathroom.”

Modest… far more modest than I’m being right now, which, now that I think about it, is a lot worse. At my revelation, I place the bottle of Moet down on my bedside table and turn to face her. “Of course.” Sober up right now, Madi, or you’ll be joining Tatum facedown before 9:00 p.m.

I spin back around to face my closet when I catch Tatum looking at the closed door. “Why would she be shy around us?” she whispers.

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