One Last Time(14)

I head back to my place to try to assemble an outfit for tonight.

Forty minutes later, I’ve dug through all the boxes of clothes I’ve yet to unpack and am wearing a simple black two-piece bathing suit under my cute floral-print romper. I throw my dark brown hair into a messy bun and call it a day.

There’s no way I’m going to stay out late tonight, I want to wallow in my self-pity. But once again, I must do something I don’t want to . . . work.

If I can get myself in the mindset that this might actually be semi-enjoyable, I’ll be golden.

Heather: Where are you?





I’m still sitting on the edge of the bed giving myself the world’s worst motivational speech ever.

Me: I’m leaving the house now.





Or as soon as I can get my lazy ass up.

Heather: Okay! I can’t wait to see you. I’m making margaritas! Olé!





Oh, boy. This is going to be entertaining. Heather is the best drunk ever. She can’t hold her liquor and usually does something epic . . . like landing in bed with a rock star. I force myself to get up and go.

Twenty minutes later, I’m at Heather and Eli’s house.

I can do this. I can go in there, do what I need to do, and get home where I can shovel my face with crap food and watch movies that only depress me more.

I knock on the door, and Heather opens it with a huge smile on her face. “Kristin!” Her arms wrap around my neck, and I go falling forward.

“Holy shit! How much did you drink already?” I laugh as we both steady ourselves.

She releases me with a laugh. “I only had one, but Noah makes these really strong.”

If this is her after one . . . we’re in so much trouble. “Pace yourself, honey.”

Heather rolls her eyes and pulls me into the house. “Start drinking. You need to forget your worries, and I have my friends Jim, Jack, and Johnny all here ready for you. Or we can hang out with Jose.”

My brows raise, and she thrusts a glass into my hand. “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”

Her gaze drops to the floor, and when she looks up, a tear forms. “It’s two years today . . . since I lost her.”

She doesn’t have to say another word. I pull her into my arms and rub her back. “Oh, Heather. I’m sorry.”

It’s hard to believe that she lost her sister two years ago. It feels like it’s been so much longer. There’s nothing to say to ease her pain, but I wish I could. Stephanie was more than a sister to Heather. She was like a daughter.

“I’m okay,” she says as she pulls back.

“Today is a shitty day all around.” I shrug.

“Scott?”

“Yup.” Then, because there isn’t anything she can do to make it better, I shrug again. “You know . . . exes.”

“All too well, my friend.” Heather laughs and takes a sip of her drink. “Now, drink so I can bring you out back. Eli and Noah are both in the pool. Shirtless.”

Maybe a little alcohol will make me not such an awkward turtle. I follow her advice and take a gulp, shuddering as the alcohol hits me. “Holy hell!”

She wasn’t kidding about the drinks being strong. I don’t know that I can taste the mix. It’s basically straight tequila. I take another gulp and look out the back window.

The back wall of the house has the best views, though. The sun is setting, giving the sky a pink and yellow hue, but that isn’t what my eyes are fixed on.

Standing on the edge of the pool is the most gorgeous male specimen I’ve ever seen. The photo of Noah Frazier is absolutely nothing compared to the living version. He’s taller than I imagined with a wide frame and tanned skin. His hair is wet, appearing almost black, and little drops of water fall from the tips, sliding down his perfect body. I watch the rivulets slide from his chest and then lower as they follow the ridges of his six-pack.

I grip the counter to stop from falling over. “Oh my God,” I say, barely breathing the words.

Heather’s head twists, and when she looks back at me, her grin is wide. “Yeah, God definitely made them.”

“I can’t go out there,” I stammer. “I’ll never be able to speak.”

There is not a chance in hell I won’t make a total fool of myself.

“You have to!” Heather grips my hand. “He’s expecting a reporter friend to interview him.”

My stomach drops. No, no, no, she didn’t.

“You told him?” I scream the question.

She laughs and drains her glass. “Of course we did. Trust me, it’s better he knows. We explained you’re one of my best friends and that you wanted to talk for a bit. Eli said he was more than happy to do the interview for you.”

Jesus. I’m going to kill her.

I grab my drink and throw it back. My throat burns, and I cough as the warmth starts to flow through my veins.

“Easy!” She warns while slapping my back.

“This is going to be so embarrassing,” I whine.

Heather laughs as she pours another drink. “Yup. Yup it is, but oh so entertaining.”

Maybe I can duck back out and no one will ever know. There’s nothing saying I have to do this. My boss is, like, twelve, I’m sure I can come up with something plausible. Celebrities aren’t known for being reliable.