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She flashes me a smile and opens her closet. Once she gets her much more comfortable sneakers on, we head up to the gathering room. I’m trailing behind since I have to walk a bit slower in this get-up, but when I finally get there and see all the other girls dressed to the nines in their Barbie gear as well, I feel less like an idiot.
“We need a picture,” Annabel states, waving for everyone to join around her.
We all gather around her and squeeze in, then she snaps a picture.
“Double Ken night,” she says as she types.
“Double Ryan night,” Addison corrects her. “No Kens allowed.”
“They are not Kenough,” I agree solemnly.
Addison grins. “Exactly. Let them ride their goddamn horses and stay the hell out of our way.”
“Popcorn’s here.”
My heart sinks like a rock when I look back and see Sloane come in, carefully carrying three big bowls of popcorn with her.
Addison’s eyes widen, then shoot to me. “I didn’t know,” she mouths.
Shit.
Well, I really should have known. Sloane basically is a Barbie; how could she pass up the opportunity to dress as one?
She’s wearing the pink gingham dress with her blonde hair pulled half-back, looking like she’s ready for a picnic she definitely baked cookies for.
Unfortunately, the mere thought makes me consider that if she were packing a romantic picnic, it would be Killian she’d be packing it for.
My stomach begins hurting immediately.
“Does everybody have drinks?” Sloane asks cheerfully, glancing at all her friends already seated on the comfy couches.
“Come on,” Addison says gently, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “We’ll sit over here.”
We sit on the couch furthest from where Sloane sits, but it’s hard not to be distracted by her. The lights dim and someone starts the movie, and I can feel the people around me having fun, but I’m on edge. I can’t shake my awareness of her, and I can’t think about her now without thinking about him.
We’re a little into the movie and Barbie is on her journey out of Barbieland when Sloane’s phone goes off. It’s on silent; I only notice because I’m aware of every move she makes, but when she smiles at the screen and her eyes seem to brighten, my heart cracks in half.
It has to be a text from Killian.
The idea of him texting her makes me want to die—especially a text that makes her smile like that.
It’s so familiar. So casually intimate. It paints a picture I don’t want to see.
Her gaze shifts to me and I quickly look at the TV, but my face flushes because I know she caught me looking at her.
I try to concentrate on what’s happening in the movie, but my ability to concentrate on anything is irreparably shattered when Killian walks in the room.
What is he doing here?
My heart goes into overdrive, and all the air abandons my lungs.
He looks good in a black T-shirt and jeans, but as my brain is fumbling to understand why he’s here, Sloane stands and brushes her hands down over her skirt. She does a little spin and says, “Like my costume?”
His lips tug up in a little smirk that feels like a fucking dagger to my gut. “I do.”
Ouch.
Addison grabs my hand and squeezes.
