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“Ew, gross,” Tory says.
“No way. Think about it—no more shaving. I can have hairy legs and pits if I want. Screw dieting and working out. My future cats won’t judge me. And I don’t have to share TV time with anyone!”
Tory is gaping at me, horrified. Ashley looks at me with sympathetic eyes, probably itching to give me a pity hug. I look around, needing to know where that damn martini is.
“Okay, so I didn’t want to say it, but after that comment, I feel like the intervention is needed.” Tory looks over at Ashley, and they exchange a secret nod.
“What?” My eyes narrow on my two best friends. “What are you two conspiring about now? If this is some sort of plan to get me to another swinger’s club again, I will murder you both—”
“That wasnotmy idea, for the record,” Ashley rushes out. Tory doesn’t bother denying it, that bitch. “We just… we just want you to be happy. You’ve been in this slump ever since—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” I snap. That is thelastthing I need tonight.
“But it’s true! Ever since—”
“Say his name, and you both die.”
Tory waves me off. “You can’t hurt a fly. Ashley’s right. Ever since the breakup with Easton, you haven’t been yourself. And it’s been almost two years.”
Easton Cruz.
The tattooed bad boy on a bike, who oozes sex appeal and danger, a.k.a. my asshole ex. And I cannot stress the word,assholeenough. “Two years of greatness,” I add.
Tory rolls her eyes. “You still wear his T-shirt to bed.”
“That wasonetime. I was doing laundry, and it was the only thing not dirty. I’ve burned it since.”
“And the CD he made you that youstillplay in your car?”
“I’m not going to stop listening to my favorite music just because he made it for me.”
Tory shakes her head. “Dare I bring up the photo you still have on the fridge?”
I throw my hands up, annoyed with my soon-to-be ex-friends. “It’s the only photo I have of Jake. I loved his dog! He was technically my dog for a whole year.” Coming here was a bad idea. My friends are supposed to support me after the worst blind date on the planet, and instead, they’re pointing out what a pathetic loser I am. Which they are one hundred percent spot on. “You know what. I’m out of here—”
“Oh, sit down.”
“No, I’m leaving.”
“Before you drink your martini?”
Right then, Sherry arrives with my drink. Dammit. No one abandons a martini. “I’m leaving after I slam this.”
“Great, so while you do that, we have a proposition for you.”
I take the first frothy sip of my martini and moan into my glass. There is nothing on earth better than a perfectly shaken martini. “I told you, I’m not going to those wanderlust retreats again either.”
“Ew, no. That was super weird and totally not what the pamphlet described.”
“What are you two up to?” This never ends well for me. “Since I’m zero and seven with your propositions, one I’m still finishing community service on, I’m going to assume my answer to whatever you’re proposing will be a hell no.”
“We got you a vacation,” Ashley blurts out.
“A vacation,” I repeat. I look over at Ashley. She seems suddenly nervous.
“Yeah!” Ashley digs into her purse and spreads a pamphlet across the pub table. “Look how cute this is? It’s a little rental cabin in the woods.”
I look at my two friends, wondering if they’re high as well as drunk. “You bought me a vacation to a cabin in the woods in the middle of nowhere.” I have to say that out loud to really process the whole, what the actualfuckwere they thinking?
