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Chapter Thirty-One
FOUR MONTHS LATER
“Kris, you have to stop making our sisters cry.” Courtney took off her knit beanie and fluffed her thick brown curls with one hand as she sent a pointed glance in Kris’s direction.
“Blair’s a pledge. She’s not officially a sister until next semester, and all I said was her haircut looks like shit.” Kris slipped out of her Saint Laurent boots and flexed her feet against the plush carpet of her off-campus apartment.Finally.She’d been running around all day, doing stupid sorority shit, when all she wanted was to drink a glass of wine and finish designing the invites for MentHer’s holiday fundraiser. “I was being honest. It’s not my fault she’s so sensitive.”
“She spent $300 on that haircut.”
“Again, not my fault.”
Courtney folded her arms over her chest. “You’ve been crankier than usual.”
“You know Christmas cheer irritates me.” Kris liked the presents and her family’s annual trip to St. Barth’s, but the cheesy holiday movies, ugly sweaters, and those godforsaken Christmas songs playing incessantly no matter where you went? Gag her with a spoon.
And okay, fine, she was also a teensy bit cranky because she hadn’t spoken to Nate in two weeks. He was filming in the middle of the Nevada desert, and between the spotty cell service and his crazy workdays—as well as her own packed schedule—they hadn’t so much as texted since Thanksgiving.
“Does this mean you’re not going to the Sigma party tonight?”
Kris grimaced. “I would rather dye my hair with drugstore box color.”
Her friend and sorority sister laughed. “I guess that’s a no. But let’s grab brunch tomorrow, okay? All my finals are papers, so I’m leaving Thursday. Have to prepare for the big Christmas shindig at my house.”
Courtney lived with her aunt, uncle, andfivecousins. They were like a big, smiley Brady Bunch come to life, and they took their holidays seriously. Courtney owned a handmade sweater for everything from Valentine’s Day to Fourth of July to fucking National Pancake Day, courtesy of her aunt.
Kris was convinced Courtney’s aunt was a serial killer.
“Sure. I leave in a few days, too.” Kris grabbed the arts and crafts kit Courtney had lent her from her room and returned it to her friend. She’d only rushed Theta her sophomore year because Courtney, whom she’d met and befriended at freshman orientation, had already been a member and begged her to join. She hadn’t expected it to involveso much glitter. “We’re staying stateside this year.”
Surprise flitted across Courtney’s face. “No St. Barth’s?”
“No. My dad said I should have anormalChristmas at home, whatever that means.” Kris frowned. “Plus Gemma has to stay in town for an art exhibition, and he wants us all to have dinner together.”
Courtney’s mouth curved into a small smile. “That sounds nice.”
“I guess.” It did sound nice, but Kris would never admit it.
Roger had kept his word and traveled minimally in the months since they left L.A. He and Kris ate dinner together once a week, sometimes more—the Carreras’ mansion in Broadmoor was a short drive from campus, so it wasn’t difficult. Gemma occasionally joined them. She’d rented a modest apartment not too far from Broadmoor and had converted the spare bedroom into her art studio.
Kris had visited it once with Courtney, who’d freaked when she found out Kris’s real mother was none other than Gemma Cruz. Apparently, Gemma was a rising star in the art world. Kris had never cared much for paintings, but she had to admit Gemma’s hyper-realistic renderings were out of this world.
They’d gotten to know each other much better these past few months, but theirs wasn’t a mother-daughter relationship—yet. Roger and Gemma, though…
Kris smirked when she remembered how flustered they’d looked when she’d arrived early to dinner one night and found them in the living room with their heads bentveryclose to each other.
Clearly, their flame had rekindled after all these years.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Courtney smacked a kiss on Kris’s cheek. “Hal’s Diner?”
“Of course.”
Hal’s served the greasiest bacon and thickest milkshakes in the city. It was fantastic.
Once Courtney left, Kris drew a bath and put on soothing music. She sank into the bubbles, mentally going through her to-do list for the MentHer fundraiser. Even though she was in Seattle, she’d volunteered to help with their marketing and design needs in her free time. MentHer didn’t have the budget for a dedicated marketing person, the work could be done remotely, and Kris missed Susan and the girls, especially Skylar.
Shit.Thinking of Skylar made her think of Nate, which in turn made her depressed.
Kris couldn’t believe she’d turned into one of those girls who moped about when she couldn’t talk to her boyfriend for a few weeks. It wasn’t like Nate was ignoring her; he had a job to do. So did her vibrator, which she was going to—
