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“I tried to get the story pulled, but they won’t budge,” I find myself rambling. “And this is only the beginning, if we keep going on how we have—”
“I know how scandals work,” she cuts me off. “I know we have to do this.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier,” I say miserably. “If I could just see you one last time…”
We both let my words trail off. We know we can’t. The last time would invariably lead to the next, and then the next after that. Even now, it’s taking everything I have not to urge her to come here, now. To be with me.
“Thanks for everything,” Harley says quietly. “Goodbye.”
Seconds after she hangs up the phone, I realize it, what this foreign feeling inside me is.
“I love you,” I say into the silence.Chapter 28Harley
“Har?” Hannah says tentatively from outside the door.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t want you to take this the wrong way… But why are you sitting in the bathroom with the lights off?”
I blink. “Huh. So I am.”
“Can I come in? I need to brush my teeth.”
“Sure,” I say. “I’m just sitting on the edge of the tub anyway.”
I honestly can’t even remember coming in here in my sad stupor, but I’m not about to admit that.
“Is everything OK?” Hannah asks, flicking on the light and reaching for her purple toothbrush.
“I… Yeah?”
She pauses, gives her head a shake to throw her light brown bangs out of her face before shoving her toothbrush into her mouth. “You don’t sound very convinced. And didn’t you leave your date with Greyson way early?”
I clamp my lips closed firmly, but that doesn’t stop it from bursting out of me: “Greyson broke up with me.”
Hannah drops her toothbrush. “He what?”
“The press found out about us. Storm Inc. can’t afford any bad publicity right now.”
“But…” Hannah trails off, her mouth working soundlessly.
I rise, touching her arm. “It’s fine. Really. There’s no way this would’ve worked long-term anyway. He’s my boss.”
Hannah bites her lip, then, halfway to reaching for her toothbrush, gives it a kick instead. “You know what? Screw bedtime and tooth-brushing. We gonna party.”
At her last statement, uttered in a ‘gangsta’ voice, I giggle. “Oh yeah?”
Hannah grabs my hand and marches me out of there. “Hell yeah.”
In my room, she flips through my clothes until she gets to the tightest, shortest, reddest dress I own. “Let’s go, sister.”
I chuckle as I take it off the hangar. “As you say, cousin.”
She grins, giving me a side-hug. “Seriously, though. I’ve got you. Remember how you threw me a surprise party, then a birthday vacation to England after that asshole player dumped me via Snapchat?”
“Of course,” I say, side-hugging her back. “How we got a picture of him and burned it in that forest after too?”
Hannah sighs wistfully. “Oh yes, the craycation.”
“I could really use a vacation right about now,” I murmur, half to myself.
Hannah snorts. “You came back from Costa Rica literally a week ago.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Details, details. Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready too, or am I hitting up Coda alone?”
“Who said we were going to Coda?”
“Where else do we go when we want to dance?”
“Point taken.” Hannah smiles. “Give me 10.”
Ten minutes later, we meet in the hallway.
“You look hot,” I tell her. “Is that the dress from—”
“The Most Handsome Man Alive?” Hannah nods. “You bet. Although I don’t know how much he would approve of its intended use tonight. We’re gonna get crazzyyyy!”
I laugh. While Hannah and I actually have gotten into some shenanigans while drunk, including climbing an interesting and tall fountain and attracting a small crowd to cheer us on, I have a feeling that tonight will be a little tamer. Sadness isn’t exactly an upper for me, even if I do get wasted.
Still, I don’t want Hannah to feel obligated to go out, either.
“You don’t have to come,” I tell her, “Really, it’s fine. I’m not even sure I should be going out at all.”
“You’re right.” Hannah nods her head in faux agreement. “Sitting around at home always makes me feel better after a breakup… not!” She grabs my hand. “Now let’s get going, hot stuff.”
I smirk. I’d forgotten how good this dress looked, how each of its bandage strips was basically painted on. “I’m ready when you are.”
The Uber ride to the club is quick, but once we get there, the line-up is snaking around the door.
Hannah marches us right up to the bouncer. “My friend just got dumped,” she tells the no-nonsense-faced doorman with a head like a bald pale battering ram.
“And I can do a pirouette,” I chime in helpfully.
The guy recrosses his arms, looking the textbook definition of ‘Don’t Fuck with Me’. “Oh yeah?”
I do the world’s worst rendition of a pirouette, then shoot the guy a winning smile. “Hell yeah?”
He chuckles, showing off painfully white teeth with a shake of his head before waving us inside. “Alright, alright. Just don’t do that again.”
