Lydia and Emmett practically race to the bar while the rest of us push through the crowd at a more reasonable pace. Wesley drops his hand when we reach the group, but he’s still close enough behind me that I can feel the heat of him, steady and solid.
Brantley lines up seven shot glasses and begins filling each one with the golden liquid that has not been my friend lately. Emmett starts passing them out. When he gets to Tori, he pauses, holding hers just out of reach.
“Do you think you’re being cute?” she asks, her tone pure sarcasm.
“I thinkyouthink I’m cute,” Emmett fires back, flashing his easygoing grin.
Lydia’s eyes are locked on him, but he’s too busy watching my redheaded friend to notice.
Wanting to break the tension, I clink my glass against Lydia’s before tossing back the burning liquid.
Landon must sense the shift too, because he slings an arm around his sister’s shoulders and ruffles her hair. “Don’t scowl, Lyd. You’ll get wrinkles.”
“Don’t touch me.” she snaps, but without any real bite.
“You’ve missed me,” he teases.
“Hard to miss someone who’s constantly up my ass.”
“Quit being a little shit. I’m worried about you.”
“Wanna grab a table in the back?” Emmett cuts in, two pitchers of beer in hand.
Wesley nods and grabs the glasses from Brantley, and we all trail toward the corner booth.
It’s hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, my life looked completely different. I felt completely different. This—them—feels so familiar, so comfortable, like it was always supposed to be this way.
But that little voice in the back of my head keeps whispering that I shouldn’t get used to it. That I don’t belong here.
That it’s only temporary.
But I’ve never felt at home anywhere else. Not like I do here.
We’re on our fourth pitcher when Mia suddenly stands and announces she needs to pee. I volunteer to go with her—because girl code, but also because she seems a little tipsier than she’s letting on.
Thankfully, the hallway is empty. Though I knew it would be, relief floods me anyway, knowing there won’t be any bloody noses dripping on the floor tonight. Lane is gone, and everything is fine.
Mia stops in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, pulling out her phone to snap a few more pictures.
“This lighting is actually kind of good. The red is a total vibe. Like an underground sex club or something.”
“You’ve got a problem.” Landon’s voice echoes from down the hall.
“This isliterallypart of my job.”
“Social media rots your brain.”
She turns toward him, completely amused. “Actually…can I use you?”
He stares at her.“Use me?”
“As a prop, cowboy. Calm down. I won’t even show your face.”
“Why does that sound worse?”
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Oh my God, just—stand there, turn to the side a little, and look…I don’t know, rugged or something.”
“That’s not a thing.”
