Page 961 of Deep Pockets


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“Because I know he’ll have a spare bottle handy.”

“I have alcohol here.”

“Fuck off, Jensen. I want to get wasted and not think about how my girlfriend broke up with me or how I lost the best thing that had ever happened to me.”

“Shit,” Jensen muttered. “I’m coming with you.”

“Fine,” I spat.

I didn’t care one way or another who was there. Austin and Patrick were good for a distraction. And I needed one. Desperately. Because, otherwise, I was going to end up doing something really stupid.

Tonight, I would be pissed.

Tomorrow, I would put my life back together.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Heidi

Two days later, I still hadn’t moved from the couch. I was in the same clothes, and my hair was in the same topknot.

Emery took one look at me when she got home from work and started to force me into the shower. “You cannot do this. You can’t wallow.”

“Yes, I can. What else do I have to do?”

“Heidi Anne Martin! You are a strong, independent, unbelievably incredible woman. You will pick yourself up from this and keep going. This is not the end of your life. You are a brilliant engineer, and anyone would be lucky to have you. Just because you are no longer gainfully employed by Wright Construction does not change a damn thing about your awesomeness.”

“You’re a great friend, Em.”

“Damn straight!” She shoved me toward the shower. “Now, go.”

I complied. By the time that I was clean, had blown out my hair, and had chosen a new set of pajamas to lounge around in, Julia was here with her hand on her hip, looking fierce as fuck.

“What is this? An intervention?” I asked.

Emery and Julia were both dressed in cute black-on-black outfits. And they looked ready to take me down if I resisted whatever plot they had come up with.

“Hell yes, it is,” Julia said. “Now, turn your cute ass around, and put on something presentable. We’re going out.”

“I’m not going out.”

“Don’t make us come in there,” Emery threatened. “We’re trying to get you back on your feet. You haven’t left the house in three days. It’s time.”

I gritted my teeth. “Where are we going?”

“Shopping.”

“God, y’all are the worst,” I muttered.

They were playing to my weakness. They knew I loved shopping. Even if I didn’t need anything. Though maybe some retail therapy would help.

“Whatever,” Julia said. “Just hurry up!”

I matched their morose attire and slipped into black skinnies, a black tank, and some old beat-up Converse. I skipped all my makeup, except mascara. Emery handed me her wallet, and I stuffed it in my purse. The weirdo still didn’t like to carry a purse.

We took Julia’s SUV to Malouf’s, a local clothing store that was essentially the Nordstrom of Lubbock. It had all the fancy designers and did custom-tailored suits. Even though I shouldn’t spend money here, I loved to do it.

A sigh escaped me as we entered because I realized there was no way I could afford anything in here now. With my job gone, I would have to use my savings to cover rent and my student loans.

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