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It was Friday, and Ivy was still at work, so Hope figured she still had a good four or five hours to get her shit together before having to face her best friend and the rest of the world.
Her mother had texted confirming Hope’s flight details, and for the first time in years she found that she wanted nothing more than to go see her mom, wrap herself into her warm embrace, and soak up all the comfort and unconditional love only Audrey could give her. Had always given her.
It had taken a lively little girl and her strong and steady father to show her the truth about what family really meant. It wasn’t all blood ties and lineage. The legacy of love was built in the heart, not in the bloodline. And above all else, Hope’s family had always loved her.
Just after noon, she got a text from Gabe.
Gabe:The bed felt cold without you this morning. When can we talk?
Her finger hovered over her screen to reply, but she couldn’t find the right words, so she tucked her phone under her pillow and forced herself into the shower. Then she spent the next few hours doing laundry and packing enough to get her through the gala and the weekend.
By four she was painting by the window overlooking the city street below. Totally caught up in her therapy session of art and imagination, she lost track of time until Ivy came slamming through the door with her pile of foam rollers and exercise bands.
“Tell me it’s actually Friday and not my brain playing tricks on me, because I’ve been thinking it’s Friday since Tuesday, which has made this the longest week ever. Please don’t let it still be Tuesday.” A few thuds and crashes later, Ivy and all her physical therapy equipment were inside the apartment. She blew her bangs out of her eyes and let loose a long-suffering sigh.
“It’s Friday,” Hope said, setting down her paintbrush and turning to face her friend. This was the test to see if she had perfected her acting skills enough to fool her best friend.
Ivy stood in their entrance way, head cocked to one side, hands fisted on her hips. She studied Hope carefully. Hope tried her best not to swallow hard under the scrutiny, and mentally crossed her fingers.
“Shouldn’t you be with Ruby?” Ivy eventually asked.
Hope breathed a huge sigh of relief and managed a thin smile. “Slumber party at the cousins this weekend.”
Ivy nodded sagely. “You know what this means.”
“Um, pajamas, wine, and romcoms on the couch?” she guessed.
“Wrong!” Ivy shouted with glee as she skipped down the hall toward Hope’s room. “It means four-inch stilettos, red lipstick, and a blowout.”
Resigned, she followed Ivy into her bedroom, where she found her friend with her head already buried in Hope’s closet. Something red and shiny came flying over Ivy’s shoulder.
“Did you pack all your best stuff for your trip back to Cali this weekend? Where’s that cute little black leather skirt? And the heels?” Ivy tossed a look at Hope. “The necessity heels, you know the ones.”
“I’m not going out tonight,” Hope said firmly. It was honestly the very last thing she felt like doing. Especially to Bowie’s, where she’d have to face Gabe and watch him work behind the bar, which never failed to turn her heart to mush. She could not afford a mushy heart. She needed to stay strong now more than ever.
Ivy abandoned the closet and walked toward her. Slowly, purposefully, determined. “Yes, you are going out. It’s been a long week for both of us. I can see it on your face. And these days you and I get a Friday night together exactly never. In fact, the last time Ruby had a sleepover, you spent the whole weekend having your own sleepover at Gabe’s.” She flexed her fingers in quotations around the wordsleepover, then crossed her arms, and gave Hope a look. “You owe me a girls’ night.”
Hope sighed. Ivy was right. They hadn’t spent much quality time together since Hope met Gabe. Still, she gave it one last shot. “I won’t be good company tonight,” she warned.
Ivy shrugged and moved back to Hope’s closet. “You will be once you have a couple of drinks in you. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll text Sean. He had a shit day, too. He’ll be looking for some distraction.” She threw a slinky black blouse at Hope. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Yeah, famous last words.
* * *
Bowie’s was alive with some pretty hard-core Friday night vibes. It was as busy as Hope had ever seen it. She sat on a bar stool at the table Sean had been lucky enough to snag earlier and sipped on a fruity red drink Carter had brought her. As she watched the growing crowd, she did her best to keep her gaze from wandering to the bar where Gabe was working.
This was an awkward mistake, and yet here she was. And even though she’d spent the last few hours telling herself that she could never make a relationship with Gabe work, just being in his proximity made her heart feel whole.
Sean and Ivy stumbled back to the table, laughing. They’d torn up the dance floor to an Ed Sheeran dance remix, and Hope couldn’t help but smile. Seeing Ivy relaxed and having fun was a relief. There’d been a time when Hope thought she’d never see a glow of joy around Ivy again, but coming to Portland and starting her PT clinic at Sean’s gym had been a huge turning point.
Sean had been another one. His gentle and patient friendship drew Ivy out of her dark little shell and brought light back into her eyes.
“It’s crazy busy tonight,” Ivy exclaimed as she pulled her small frame back onto her stool and downed a gulp of her beer.
“Double bachelor party,” Carter said, loudly over the noise. He was sitting on the fourth seat at their table, taking a break from bar duty. “Gabe tries to never book more than one at a time, but somehow another one slipped in tonight.” His sharp gaze assessed the crowd. “It’ll be a shit show tonight. Guaranteed. The boss is already fit to be tied.” He tossed a nod in Gabe’s direction. “Came in this afternoon pissy as ever. None of this has helped his mood.”
Giving up her sorry attempt to not stare at him, she turned her gaze to the surly man in question. He stood behind the bar in his black Bowie’s t-shirt with a matching bar towel slung over his shoulder. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he poured shots into a row of glasses in front of him. His scowl should have made him appear less handsome, but to her, it only added to his raw, potent masculinity. Her insides melted with desire even as guilt swamped her.
