Bad Things(29)

The bed moved as he climbed on the other side. I shivered as I felt him getting under the covers with me.

“Sweet dreams, boo,” he said quietly.

I smiled, my eyes drifting closed.

I woke up as my bathroom door opened. I blinked up at Tristan, who was fully dressed for his night out. He wore a crisp navy dress shirt with dark-washed jeans.

The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up; the collar unbuttoned enough to show a distracting amount of his throat.

“Aren’t you going to be hot?” I asked.

He grinned, approaching the bed. “Aren’t I, though?”

I rolled my eyes.

He startled me by bending over and placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

I gave him wide eyes as he straightened. “What was that?”

“That was a ‘have a nice night, friend’ kiss.”

I pursed my lips, sitting up. “Do you kiss Cory or Kenny on the forehead?”

He just smiled. “I would, if they were as gorgeous as you. I’ll see you later, boo. Have a nice night.”

“You too,” I told him as he walked out.





CHAPTER TEN





I started making snacks early for the girls’ night. Those bitches could eat. Everyone would show up, say they weren’t hungry, have two cocktails, and promptly pig out. I loved it, and I made sure we were prepared.

I prepared a mix of healthy and unhealthy comfort food. I made guacamole, but also put out some processed cheese dip that one of the girls loved. I put out plain tortilla chips, whole wheat pita chips, and plain old potato chips. I made pigs in a blanket, and baked some tater tots, but made sure I cut plenty of fresh vegetables. It was a diverse crowd of women that attended our girls’ night every week, and we tried to accommodate them all. One thing they all indulged in equally, though, was Bev’s cocktail of the week.

Bev joined me in the kitchen when she got home from work. She came bearing gifts in the form of bottles of apple juice, apple schnapps, and vodka.

I nabbed one bottle, inspecting it. “Apple juice, huh?” I asked.

“Indeed,” she said with a grin, washing her hands. “Appletinis.”

One of the best things about girls’ night was that no one even considered dressing up. We all wore sweats or yoga pants. I had my favorite pair of pink sweat short-shorts on that read ‘sassy pants’ on the butt, and a red half-shirt that read UNL because the V had worn out.

Bev took less than five minutes to change into her own pair of sweats—a sight you only saw on girls’ night.

“Jerry just called,” Bev told me as she came back into the kitchen. “He and the boys are catching a movie. They won’t be home until bedtime.”

The doorbell rang, and Bev answered it with a ready cocktail in hand, all of the dogs following closely on her heels.

It was Lucy. Lucy always showed up early. She sort of ran this thing, though she’d been reluctant at first. Our girls’ night had, over time, turned into a weekly group therapy session. Lucy had argued at first that it might not be the best idea to have therapy sessions with her friends, but, when she’d seen how much we all apparently needed it, she’d become more enthusiastic than any of us about the whole thing.

We’d even affectionately named the event. ‘Fuck Anonymous’, because it was anything but anonymous, had been going strong for over a year now, and I wouldn’t change a thing about it.

Lucy and Bev embraced, kissing cheeks, and Bev handed off the cocktail.

Lucy studied the bright green liquid in the martini glass. “This is either tasty, or wicked,” she murmured. She was a petite black-haired woman in her early forties. She had a pretty face, with dark eyes that always seemed to be crinkled up with laughter.

“It’s a little bit of both, I think,” Bev said.

Lucy came into the kitchen, where I was laying out the food, paper plate buffet style.

I set down the plate in my hand to give her a big hug.

“How are you, dear?” she asked as she pulled back. “You look great.”

I glanced down at my sloppy ensemble, wondering if she could be joking. “Um, thanks. I’m doing good.”

Bev went back to bartending from the small bar in the dining room, pouring and then bringing me my own bright martini.

I thanked her, taking a tiny sip. My brows shot up. “That’s tasty.”

Bev went back to the bar, pouring herself a glass. She held it up. “Cheers ladies. Fuck anonymous!”