Ready for You (Ready #3)(3)

Her watery eyes peered up at me as if searching for something. “You’re hurting…over a woman?” she asked, surprising me.

My silence was enough of an answer for her, and she seemed to recover a bit from her revelation. Seeing me as a victim suddenly made her feel better. Well, at least there was that.

“The tattoo on your arm…is it for her?”

Inquisitive little thing, wasn’t she? I really needed to stop getting drunk.

Her eyes wandered down to the tattoo in question, stopping at the black tip of script peeking out of my T-shirt sleeve.

“No,” I bit out. “That’s for someone else.”

Date night was definitely over.

~Mia~

It had been eight years since I was in my home state of Virginia. Eight years since I’d left the boy who stole my heart on a hot summer night under the stars. Eight years since I’d given him nothing more than a tear-stained note, destroying everything we’d planned. Eight years since I’d driven over that state line and never looked back, ruining my life from that moment on.

Now, fate had brought me home again. Why? I didn’t know, but like a magnet, I’d felt drawn back here, and I only hoped it wouldn’t be a mistake.

Virginia was beautiful and picturesque as I made my way down the tree-lined back roads dotted with small farms and forgotten towns. My roots were here, buried in the sweet Southern air and the historic countryside. Crossing the city limits into Richmond felt like coming home for the first time in almost a decade. No matter where I had gone, where I’d settled down, I never felt more at home than I did here. This is where I truly belonged and it was about time I came to accept that.

A few miles deeper into the city, I was pulling up to the curb of my longtime friend Olivia Prescott, or Liv, as I liked to call her. It had been years since we last spoke. That had been my fault, not hers. I’d cut ties with everyone from my former life when I quietly left town the night of our high school graduation. After what I’d done, I’d felt too ashamed to face anyone, even those I was closest to.

The house was drastically different than what I’d ever envisioned for Liv. Her family, like mine, came from money. Initially, it had been why we became friends. Our parents had attended the same country club, and we would end up attending many of the same functions together. We quickly realized that we had a lot in common, and we had become fast friends.

Liv had hated the country-club life almost as much as I had. It was so stuffy and stifling in there. I would feel like my lungs were tightening every time I’d walked inside those pretentious gilded walls. Our mutual hatred for the place had created a close bond, and we had always sought each other out when we were forced to attend parties or formal events. Our parents hadn’t approved of our friendship. We had been expected to act a certain way, and neither Liv nor I had fit the mold of the perfect daughter. Being together had only exacerbated the situation in our parents’ eyes.

I’d finally taken a stand against my parents, but by the time I had, it had been too late, and it had ended up costing me everything. I could only imagine what Liv had gone through alone. As I stepped out of my car, I took my first good look at Liv’s house, and I knew she must have done the impossible. She’d done what I should have that night so long ago. She’d broken free.

Her house was small, too small for a trust-fund baby, which we both were—or at least, we used to be. Her trust fund was substantially larger than mine since she came from a family that had a name everyone knew. My family was well-off, more so than most, but my parents always strived to appear greater than they were. My father was a lawyer, a very successful one. I never understood why he’d felt the need to kiss ass with the rich elitists of the city. But maintaining their image had been everything to my parents—or rather my mother. My father loved me, but he had been my mother’s puppet. She’d always come first. When I’d finally walked away, I’d told my mother to screw herself, and I’d left my inheritance behind. I hadn’t heard from either of them since.

Liv lived in a part of town known for being eclectic. The neighborhood was full of artists and college students. Within walking distance, there was access to great restaurants, shops, and bars. The houses were small, historic, and full of Victorian charm. Most were divided into duplexes or townhouses to accommodate the amount of students attending the nearby university. But Liv’s home looked to be all hers with only one address painted in hot pink stenciling on a wooden sign hanging by the side of the mossy green front door.

I pressed the buzzer and waited. I admired the bright colors she’d chosen for her trim and porch, and I hated the fact that she could keep her plants alive. I had the exact opposite of a green thumb. What would that be? A black thumb? Well, whatever it was, I had it. If they could, plants would scream and run away from my presence, knowing I would be their ultimate demise. I also couldn’t cook worth a damn. I was the antithesis of Martha Stewart.

The door was suddenly thrown open, and I was engulfed in a sea of ebony hair as Liv dove forward and threw her arms around me.

“Mia!” Liv squealed, pulling back from her hug attack to give me her signature megawatt grin.

I always loved Liv’s smile. It could light up an entire room. Her smile was genuine and encompassed her entire face. Her brown eyes twinkled and warmed, her right cheek dimpled, and her entire personality shined through. God, I had missed her.