Kiss and Break Up (Magnolia Cove, #1)(66)

“It won’t be funny when you wake up tomorrow.”

My hands met my hips. “I’m having fun. Is that not allowed?”

Daphne crossed the sand. “Come on, Pegs. You are getting too drunk, and I’m bored. Let’s just head home.”

“No,” I snapped, backing up a step. “You can go, but I’m staying.”

Mom didn’t even know I was here, but I was eighteen, for Christ’s sake. I could go to a party if I wanted to.

Raven sighed, then pulled out his phone. “What are you doing?”

He paused with it halfway to his ear. “Calling in reinforcements.”

“Like who?” Please don’t say Dash. Please don’t say Dash. I didn’t know where he was. No one did, but I wouldn’t put it past him to finally answer his phone at the most inconvenient of times.

But then I stopped. “You know what? Go right ahead.”

Daphne trailed me as I moved up the grassy sand, grabbing my flip-flops. “Are you calling an Uber?”

“I’ll walk.”

Raven caught up, then walked on ahead, and I wasn’t sure how he’d gotten to the top of the grassy knoll so fast. “Let’s go, ladies. It’s getting late.”

“Ugh. We don’t need an escort.”

Daphne pressed her phone to her ear. “You take her home. I’m not walking.”

Raven smirked but waited for me to catch up.

“I’ll text you tomorrow.”

In answer, I flipped Daphne off for aiding the end to my fun and shoved my sandy feet into my flip-flops.

“If you say his name, I’ll punch you in the stomach,” I warned Raven as we headed down the street.

We crossed it, then skirted through an alleyway to the adjacent street. “Wasn’t going to say anything. Haven’t heard from him in almost a week anyway.”

A week? I’d almost said it out loud but stopped myself. Don’t ask, don’t ask. “Where the hell is he?” I fisted my hands. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“Sure, you don’t.” He sighed, reaching into his pocket to check his phone. “And none of us know. But we’ll find him if he keeps hiding.”

I didn’t want to talk about him. A dark cloud funneled through me, polluting my insides at the thought of him partying it up somewhere. Dash moped, but he was good at doing it in style. “You were at the party?”

“Nah, but one of the guys who lives down the street from me was, and he messaged me over Facebook, saying you were there, then asked where Dash was.”

“We’re not a two for one,” I said, realizing too late I’d fallen into talking about him yet again.

“Uh-huh.” Raven slowed as we reached my street. “I’ll see you on Monday. How about you stay indoors until then, yeah?”

I flipped him off too, and he chuckled, watching as I scuffed my feet over two lawns and driveways until I’d reached mine.

Quietly, I moved around the house to my bedroom window, ignoring the pang that decided to pay me a visit when I imagined Dash doing just this, and shimmied it up. It creaked, and then Mom’s head flew out of it, her eyes struggling to blink open.

I shrieked and stumbled back, landing in the garden bed. “Were you sleeping by my window?”

“You bet your dress-stealing ass I was,” she said, groggy. “Get in here and use the damn door, for Pete’s sake.”

I bit my lips, a little petrified as I took my time rounding the house. The moon popped in the midnight sky, the trees that lined the creek behind our house lacing it in shadows. I’d waited until she fell asleep to sneak out, certain it was a sure bet. I’d forgotten who I had for a mother.

She opened the door, locking it behind me. “Have you been drinking?”

“Yes.” There was no point in lying. “I wanted to forget for a little while.”

A sigh left her, then a yawn. “I’m pretty pissed right now, Peggy, and not in the fun way like you.” She tightened her fluffy robe. “But we’ll fight tomorrow. I’m too damn tired right now.”

Relief flooded, and I skipped down the hall to my room. “Sounds good to me.”





“How much trouble are you in?” Willa asked the next day as we scrapped over the phone. I’d been grounded, so they couldn’t come over for our scrapbooking date, but I was too hungover to do anything but gaze at the ceiling fan anyway. “Grounded for life.”

“Shut up,” Daphne said, then paused. “Wait, seriously?”

The image of Mom’s red face, and the cussing she’d spewed this morning over breakfast, made my head pound harder. “I think so. But I’ll probably go out next weekend.”

They were quiet a beat.

“Why?” Willa asked.

“Because it’s fun. Because I’m eighteen. Because I should be doing this stuff.” I stifled a yawn. “And because it helps, okay?”

That last part had Daphne saying, “True that. But don’t overdo it again. There’s flirty drunk and then there’s too much of a hot mess drunk.”

I winced, not having a great deal of memory of what I’d done but remembering enough. “I was the latter?”

“Mm-hmm.”