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“Ugh, fine, but we’re not going to Vegas, or anything crazy. Hunter and I have house-flipping business to conduct.”
Vegas, huh?
An idea sprang to mind, but I needed to get organized and figure out if we could pull it off before I sprung the idea on her.
Nudging her, I laughed. “Always so serious, you two.”
“That’s creepy. You sounded like the Joker saying that. Stop it.”
I gave her my classic Kristen-gives-no-fucks eye roll. I think we were up to three for the evening so far.
“Oh come on, how can you be the least spontaneous person I know? Coming from the girl who came home and bought a Victorian house to flip practically sight unseen?” I reminded her. Taylor waved me off, but after being recruited to paint walls and hang curtains I think she owed me a last hurrah including a dance battle or two in the city of sin.
“Well Hunter isn’t going to help you plan it, so good luck with that.” She said sipping her drink, thinking she was ahead of me on this.
Oh ye of little faith.
“Nah, maybe I’ll enlist Demon’s help for this one.”
She looked equal parts horrified and shocked, which lifted my mood somewhat.
She shook her finger at me.
“We talked about you using those powers for good and not evil, remember? Bestie pinkie promise in eighth grade.” Taylor wasn’t fucking around either; you break a promise and someone gets an ass-whooping. My blond bestie may have been tiny, but she packed a powerful punch when riled.
“Pffft, powers shmowers. We need to loosen you up, my uptight virginal bride.”
Taylor blushed; she hadn’t been a virgin since Hunter nailed that cherry. Smiling, I took the new set of drinks Remi brought us and downed them quickly with renewed energy. Taylor would forgive me for one wild night. Vegas would be epic even if it turned out to be a group trip with all of us going. Besides, it was in the bestie code book under the chapter Plan Now and Ask for Forgiveness Later.
I’d get my bestie back, a night to remember, and maybe Demon would get so drunk he’d lose the rings and the wedding would be off—for at least a little while… a friend could hope, right?
Teasing her, I said, “Oh! I know…” I paused, tapping my slightly numb lips. “We can upgrade your bunny ears next!”
“I hate you.”
“How long have you owned that vibrator?” I nudged, and she igno
red me. “I think I have a forty-dollar credit at the Love Barn you can use.”
“Who keeps a credit at the porn shop?”
“You’d be surprised how crappy some of those overseas toys can be. A vibe-burned vajayjay is no fun.”
Her mouth silently moved, saying fuck off, but the smile took the sting out of it.
“I know, but you’re still here.” I winked leaning my head on her shoulder.
“Hey, our boys showed up.” Taylor bounced out of her seat and hugged Hunter. They got wrapped up in each other so tight, I was sure a quarter couldn’t slip between them. Yeah, so much for the bestie code.
Our mutual friend Whittaker Jones trailed Hunter, with my nightmare behind bringing up the caboose, a big smirk littering his face. My hand twitched to smack it off and shake the rakish hair on his head. Damien Hart was the only boy who could drive me to violence. It all started the day I caught him… yeah, let’s push that memory down. No sense in letting the recollections and disappointment drown me tonight. Instead, I tapped the app on my phone, calling myself a cab to get the heck out of dodge before things got deep.
Without addressing the guys, I got up to leave; the night was over for me when Taylor grabbed my hand, pulling me back down. “Before you go, promise you’ll join me at the bakery next week with Carmen to taste some cakes?”
Carmen used to be Taylor’s roommate in college—nice girl, but I never had the opportunity to meet her during the times I visited. Recently I’d met her at the salon getting a bad dye job fixed, and we bonded over highlights and boys being stupid.
I smirked. I loved Taylor. I loved cake, but I figured Hunter loved her cake even more.
“Please? Hunter has to work and can’t make it that morning,” she reminded me, tugging on my arm with her big blue puppy dog eyes that looked a little too watery to be suspicious. “He suggested I bring you.” Great, now I was getting reluctant recommendations from the fiancé. It wasn’t fair because I’d known him as long as she had, and he was just being a good boyfriend during my needy freak-out stage.
