Chapter 64
FINLEY
“Stop putting words in my mouth!” Christina mock-shoves me into a fake cactus by the host stand, her laugh bubbling up like soda. “I don’t care what you say, I’m not hung up on a stupid hockey guy.”
The pregame drinks we had at the apartment blur my edges just enough that I shoot back, “You absolutely want to suck his dick again. It’s so perfect… and oh… the piercings… ah… it hit all the right places…”
“What fucking succubus possessed you?” She crosses herself, then scoops water from a wall fountain and draws a cross on my forehead. “Away, demon! Away!”
We’re still cackling when the ma?tre d’ leads us to a table where a woman with sage-green eyes and a gypsy scarf grin waves us in.
“Alice, this is my babe, Finley,” Christina says.
“Hey, girl.” Alice flips a margarita glass into a salt dish like a pro, pours from the shared pitcher, and pushes the drink toward me.
“Where’s Summer?” Christina asks as we sit.
“She lost track of time at the office. She’ll meet us at the bar later with Honor.” Alice hands Christina a drink, then raises her brows at me like we’ve known each other forever.
Christina clinks my glass. “Told you, we should’ve dragged her out when I picked you up.”
“Leave her alone, she’s growing a baby and running a business,” I say, sniffing the margarita before taking a tiny sip. “Wow. That’s strong.”
“One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, flooooor…” Alice sings.
“Nobody is hitting the floor tonight,” Christina warns, faux-stern. “I have to tuck this girl into bed in one piece or else…”
“Good luck with that,” Alice deadpans, then nods past my shoulder. “Who’s the stalker?”
I glance back. A guy at a nearby table looks away too fast, thumbs flying over his phone. “Another photographer. They’ve figured out where I work, too. Summer and I keep the blinds shut most of the day. I Uber door to door…”
“The life of a WAG,” Christina groans.
“I actually meant the dude who walked in behind you and hasn’t stopped ogling you since,” Alice says, eyes flicking left.
I glance over my other shoulder. Dark hair. Darker stare. That slow, assessing look that makes my skin tighten. I shift closer to Christina, letting the pillar behind her block his view.
“Welcome to Los Angeles nightlife,” Christina mutters. “Men are animals.”
Alice leans in, chin on her fist. “So, Finley, tell me all about this hoe before I met her.”
Just like that, conversation opens up. It’s easy.
By the time our food hits the table, I’ve stopped bracing.
The world feels bright and big and safe enough to explore for a night.
I miss Elijah and Jayden so much my ribs ache with it, but I’m also…
okay. Held by the hum of girls’ laughter, the scrape of plates, the little ways Christina brushes my shoulder when she reaches for salsa like she’s reminding me I’m not alone.
On our way to live music night, my phone trills. SportsCenter. A Comets goal alert. Then one of the news pings Christina set for Elijah and Jayden. I leave the second for later, the words blur when I look too long.
“Remember,” Alice says as we step into Summer’s husband’s hotel, “you don’t pay for anything at the bar. Give them our table number or sweet-talk a VIP server.”
The place gleams, palms in polished pots, brass and glass catching light. It’s grand and warm at the same time. My stomach skitters when we pass the pool’s blue edge, so I drift back with Christina to the city-view side. Away from the water, I breathe easier.
Alice bypasses the elevator line for a side corridor, and we spill into the lobby bar where Summer and another woman, soft smile, bright eyes, are waiting.
“Hey, bitches,” Alice sings, hugging and smacking air-kisses.
“How many jugs?” Summer asks, deadpan.
Christina snorts. “I swear, it wasn’t my influence this time.”
“This time,” Summer mutters fondly, then turns to me with a grimace. “I totally owe you for leaving you to those two.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” I say.
“I don’t believe you,” she teases, then gestures to her friend. “This is Honor. The level-headed one.”
“Hi,” Honor waves, a little shy.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, and it’s true. They’re sassy and sweet and safe. The kind of girls I used to imagine existed somewhere else, in a life I couldn’t reach.
“Intros done, time to head up,” Alice trills, checking her reflection. “My buzz is dying!”
“Is it your buzz or your willpower to stay away from a certain someone?” Honor threads her arm through Alice’s and steers her toward the staff elevator.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alice sings back.
“So, you won’t be sad that Harrison isn’t coming tonight?” Summer calls, sliding between Christina and me, linking our arms. “Harrison is Parker’s best friend and Alice’s fuck buddy. They deny it, but they’re humping like dirty little rabbits in heat.”
“True story,” Christina giggles as we pile into the elevator.
“The fuck it is,” Alice huffs. “Harrison and I are not buddies. I don’t even like fucking him. He just happens to be super good at it. There are dicks and then there are dicks, and Harrison has a dick that fills all the holes like,” she kisses her fingertips, “chef’s kiss.”
“Oh my God,” Honor groans while Summer bursts out laughing. “Stop. I can’t deal with all this Harrison sex talk. Last night she talked about him eating her ass all the way through my favorite episode of The Big Bang Theory.”
“Wait,” Christina gasps. “Eating ass, specifically your ass, is true love. The shit that comes out of you like, all the time…”
Honor snorts so loudly I can’t help giggling. The elevator doors open to bass and lights and a spill of cool night air. For a second I imagine Jayden here, the way he’d move, and Elijah just behind me, a hand at my back, present, grounding. The thought leaves my skin humming.
Before we step out, I sneak a look at my phone for the final score. Lost by one. I scroll until I find Jayden’s assist, Hillier to Anderson, and trace the line with my thumb like touching the play can send him something steady through the ether.
“Come on, babe,” Christina tugs my wrist.
“They lost,” I tell her. “Hillier got an assist, though.”
She squishes my face. “I don’t want to know. I’m not interested.”
The smug lift of her mouth says otherwise. I would bet my next breath she’s thrilled for Matheo.
Summer leads us through the rooftop crowd to the VIP section.
The pool glitters nearby, so I angle away again, toward the city side.
The DJ warms the room with moody beats, and I can feel how much Jayden would love this.
Elijah would endure it for me, silent, protective, counting the minutes in that way he does, until I tugged him into the night and made him breathe.
“So, how are the guys?” Summer asks, leaning close so we don’t have to shout. “They’re like Parker with the text check-ins. I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s good knowing you’re someone’s every thought, but it must be… worrisome… to be so far…”
I smile, unsure how to hold any of that in my mouth.
Even if she hasn’t asked for labels, Summer’s not stupid or na?ve.
Thing is, if I wanted to give her something, I don’t have any labels that fit.
What Eli, Jayden, and I are building doesn’t sit in a neat box.
It sits in my chest like something that’s always been mine, always lived in me and finally has a body.
“Shoot, sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You’re fine,” I say, taking the water Christina presses into my hand. I lower my voice. “They’re good. Elijah’s back to normal. Jayden is… Jayden. He’s probably obsessing about the loss.”
“Parker had the game on earlier,” she says, smile soft. “Bummer about the Comets, but we’re rooting for them. My little boy gets so excited when they win. Actually, both my boys do.”
The way her face lights is warm and easy. Family. Future. It makes me think, briefly, about paths. About living outside all the lines. About how the idea of squeezing us into someone else’s right feels scarier than carving our own.
“Are you going to dance?” Christina doesn’t wait for an answer, she steals my hand and spins me toward the dance floor.
Honor and Alice are already in the middle of it, hair wild, arms up. The band slides into a country-tinged anthem and the whole place erupts into chorus. It’s nothing like the last bar night; this one is loose and joyful. A pocket of air that smells like lime and laughter.
“Oh my God,” I giggle as Christina and Alice break into a coordinated bit. “You’re ridiculous.”
“It’s the whole point of girls’ night, Amish!” Christina twirls Alice back to Honor and then yanks me close. “Come on, you have the perfect ass to shake to this.”
“I don’t know how to dance,” I protest, tugging at the hem of my dress and trying not to topple in heels.
“Go with the flow. Shake your ass to the beat and the rest of you will follow.”
I try. It works, somehow. We’re breathless and damp and giddy when we peel off toward the bar. Honor and Christina duck to the bathroom while Alice and I order drinks. Water for me because I want to remember every second to tell the guys later.
I’m lifting my phone to snap a photo for our group chat when someone bumps me. The phone clatters to the floor. The guy that bumped me is already crouching to grab it when I bend.
“I am sorry,” he says, straightening with a wide grin and an anxious hair sweep.
It’s the guy from the restaurant. The watcher.
“It’s fine,” I say, stepping back and taking the phone from his hand.
“Let’s go find the prodigal hoes,” Alice yells in my ear, mouth pulled into a wicked smile.
“Sure.” I reach for my purse on the bar.
“Hey!” the guy calls, hand closing on my arm and pulling me a step back.
“What the fuck, dude, take your hand off her!” Alice is already squaring up, voice slicing through the music. “Creepy-ass motherfucker. Are you stalking her?”
He lifts both hands, one still holding a phone. “Not stalking… just grabbing the best tacos and taking in the greatest atmosphere in the city.” His eyes flick to me, dark and unreadable in the light. “You took my phone.”
Shoot. “Sorry.”
I hand him the phone I’m holding, only realizing as it leaves my fingers that it isn’t mine. He gives it a quick once-over and passes me mine.
I lock it without checking the screen and slide it into my purse.
“Can I get you a real drink?” he asks, softer now. “To make up for my clumsiness.”
“Thank you, but I have a… I’m not single,” I say, because even if he isn’t a stalker, he was looking at me like he wanted something.
He leans in, grin shifting. “I’m sure there are plenty of men in this bar who’ll be disappointed, but I’m not into the XX chromosome.”
It takes a heartbeat to catch up. Heat climbs my neck. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… Jesus, I’m sorry.”
A low laugh rumbles out of him. He signals the bartender. “How about that drink…” He pauses, waiting.
“Finley.”
“Hi, Finley.” He offers his hand. “I’m Ryker.”
We shake. He doesn’t let go right away, just eases me a fraction closer. “What’s your poison?”
“Strawberry and lime seltzer, please.”
“Coming up,” he tells the bartender, then to me, “Cheers.”
We tap glasses. I take a long pull and scan for Christina and Honor. Too long. It’s been too long.
“So, what do you do, Finley?” he asks.
“I moved to California a couple months ago,” I say, choosing my words. “Still finding my feet.”
“Is that a roundabout way of saying you’re unemployed?” The crooked grin takes the sting out.
“No.” I sip. He raises his glass.
“Cheers to finding your feet and living your best life while you’re doing it.” He leans in again, closer than I want. “You wanna dance?”
“My friends are in the bathroom.” I edge back, checking over his shoulder.
Summer went to get Parker. Alice is… busy. My pulse ticks higher.
Ryker drops his forehead to my shoulder and laughs. “Good for your friends.”
His closeness skims wrong down my spine. I’m about to excuse myself when an arm hooks around my waist and hauls me away.
“Tonight is not your night, buster.” Christina spins me behind her, eyes raking me head to toe. “Bitch, I leave you for two seconds. Get your pheromones in check.”
I dissolve into laughter, launching into her. “Ryker’s not into women.”
“Let me guess, fuckhead told you that?” she mutters. When I nod, her mouth flattens. “Babe, you can’t be na?ve out here. It’s a jungle and assholes like that will say anything to get in your pants.”
I glance back at Ryker scrolling his phone like we’re already forgotten. The prickle in my belly says she’s right.
“I’m sorry.” I hug her hard.
“If your boyfriends find out about this, they’ll never let you out with me again,” she says, palms holding my face. “I’ve missed you too much for that.”
“They’re not the boss of me,” I say, haughty and buzzed.
“Mmhmm,” she chuffs. “And I’m a fairy dust farting unicorn.”
We snort-laugh until my stomach aches.
“I love you, Amish,” she says, kissing my cheek and squeezing until I squeak.
“Love you more, Tina.”
The band hits a track she played on repeat while we got ready.
Before she can say a word, I grab her hand and twirl her onto the dance floor.
Honor and Alice reappear, Summer returns with Parker, who brackets her belly with both hands, protective and tender.
It hits me in the softest place, how much I want my men here, how much I like who I am with them.
“This song is my crack,” Christina squeals, throwing her arms around my shoulders as the chorus crests.
We sing and sway and laugh until the world blurs to light and night and the people who feel like home.
Christina presses her cheek to mine, grinning so big it spreads to me. “Best bitches for life.”
“Forever,” I say, and mean it, this, the girls, the ache, the joy, the life that’s finally starting to feel like mine.