6. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
CHARLOTTE
W hen Sunday evening rolls around and I say goodbye to my mother, I can’t get out of the house fast enough. On the ride back to campus, the stress of the weekend melts away, leaving behind an oily film I can’t shake. One I know will last long after my return to normalcy, which is exactly why I need a night out with the girls. Drinks, dancing, girl talk, anything that will help me forget that my father’s engaged and my mother is on the cusp of another depressive episode.
The second I get everything settled into my room and discuss the game plan with Samantha, I try Brynn and Elizabeth’s room, relieved to find that it’s open and they’re back from their weekend away. “Thank god you’re here. We’re going out,” I say, ushering Brynn from her perch at her desk chair.
“What? Where?”
“I don’t care. Anywhere where there’s music, booze, and dancing. But no boys. They just cause drama, and my birthday weekend sucked, so I need to have some fun.”
My gaze flickers over Brynn’s choice of attire. She’s wearing baggy sweats and one of Jace’s AAU T-shirts.
I wrinkle my nose and motion up and down her body. “Uh, yeah, the outfit’s gonna need some work.”
“Did you just get in?” Elizabeth asks from behind me.
“Yes. And Samantha’s on board, so get your hot asses dressed,” I say, slapping Brynn’s ass.
Brynn squeals and jumps toward her dresser, pausing in front of it with a guilt-ridden expression. “Umm . . .” She winces, playing with her hands in front of her chest. “Is it a bad time to tell you that when I stopped by Jace’s earlier, I promised him we’d head to Bradd’s for the night?”
“What? No!” I cry. “If Jace is going, that means their little man-crew is going, which also means Chris will be there, and I cannot see Chris right now.” I make a slashing motion with my hands, trying to rein in the amount of crazy I’m feeling.
“Why? What did Chris do?”
I sigh and slump forward. “This conversation requires alcohol. What time did you tell the boys we’re going out?”
“I told Jace we’d head out when you got here.”
“Fabulous.” I smile. “Don’t tell him I got here, and let’s just go.”
Brynn bites her lower lip, glancing over at Elizabeth who raises her hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me. He’s your boyfriend.”
Brynn grunts, and I can practically see the war in her eyes, torn between being the friend I need and a good girlfriend.
“Please?” I clasp my hands out in front of myself. “Just give me an hour without the boys. There’s nothing wrong with that. Right, Liz?”
“I mean, don’t think an hour would hurt. Just tell Jace you have an errand to run with the girls, and you’ll meet him at Bradd’s in an hour.”
Brynn lifts a shoulder, then drops it. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Thank god!” I clap my hands together.
I need my girls. And enough shots of tequila to numb my brain.
“So, is this a trolling-for-cute-guys kind of night?” Elizabeth asks, because she’s almost always on the prowl for Mr. Perfect.
I scrunch my nose. “Girls only. Definitely.”
Normally I’d be up for a nice make-out sesh with a campus hottie, but not tonight. Tonight is about dancing my ass off with the ladies, taking shots, and forgetting about my father’s impending nuptials and the comatose look on my mother’s face as I left her this evening.
Tonight is about proving I’m not my mother and never will be. That I don’t need a man. I’m an independent woman with friends who care about me and an amazing social life when I want it. Someone who knows how to let loose and have fun. Who won’t let life get her down, even when times are tough.
With any luck, Jace and his cronies will decide not to show at Bradd’s, and we’ll have all night to ourselves. And if they do show up and Chris is with them, I’ll just have to pretend he doesn’t exist. Not too hard to do, if you ask me.
“We leave in ten.” I raise both hands and wiggle my fingers. “So work quickly. We’re on the clock!”
Twenty minutes later, when our little party of four walks into Bradd’s, heads turn, and I really can’t blame all the poor schmucks here because we look amazing.
I shimmy the short dress I’m wearing down my thighs with my best resting-bitch face, so as to scare off anything with a penis.
“Okay, girls.” I turn to them. “Who wants shots?” I raise my hand and the girls cheer before we head to the bar where I’m relieved to see a chick working and not James. Otherwise, Samantha would be glued to his side watching him pour drinks all night. Talk about boring.
I order four shots of tequila and lay down some cash, before I divvy them out, and raise mine in a toast. “To best friends!”
“Cheers to that,” Brynn says as we all clink glasses, then down our shots.
With a hiss, I shake off the aftereffects of the tequila while Brynn orders us a round of mixed drinks to take with us to the dance floor.
“So, tell us about your father’s new girlfriend,” Samantha says while we wait.
I exhale, blowing the bangs out of my face with a bark of laughter. “Oh, man. If I tell you, you’ll never believe it.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widen. “Is she an escort?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s where your mind went? No, she’s not an escort.”
The bartender delivers our drinks, and I pick mine up, taking a sip of the Cosmo while the girls watch intently, waiting for further explanation.
Here goes nothing.
“My father is dating Chris Collins’ mother.”
Brynn’s jaw drops. “Get. Out!” She smacks me on the arm. “ Our Chris Collins? Like, the Griffins’ running back Chris Collins? My boyfriend’s roommate, Chris Collins?”
My brows rise. “Well, he’s not my Chris Collins, that’s for damn sure, but if you’re referring to the boy who’s inserted himself like a leech into our lives since you started dating his roommate, then yes. It’s that Chris Collins.”
“No way.” Shannon shakes her head, her lips tipping into a cruel smile. “That’s . . .”
“Diabolical?” I finish for her with a grimace. “Yes, I know. I mean, what are the fucking odds?” I say, throwing my free hand in the air before I start guiding us across the bar toward an empty booth in the back. “Of all the women in the state of Michigan, my father finds Chris’s fucking mom?” I shake my head, stirring the ice in my drink with the little cocktail straw.
“Oh my gosh!” Liz slaps a hand over her mouth. “So, was Chris the son who went to dinner?” Elizabeth asks.
“Yup,” I say, popping the p . “Imagine my surprise when I show up at my dad’s place and walk inside, only to see Chris standing there in the kitchen, clutching a glass of wine and grinning like an asshole.”
Brynn covers her mouth with a laugh. “Oh, man. I would’ve paid some serious money to see the look on your face.”
“I’m sure it was priceless,” I say, my tone dry as I slide into the vinyl booth.
“So, what did you do?” Shannon asks, taking the seat across from me.
“Well, it took me a moment to recover from the shock, and once it sank in that my father must be dating his mother, I thought for sure it had to be some kind of joke. I mean, what are the fucking chances?” I shake my head and take a sip of my drink. “Spoiler: It wasn’t. But it gets better.”
“No way. Better than your father dating Chris’s mom?” Brynn asks, eyes sparkling like gemstones.
She’s having way too much fun with this.
I cock a brow. “Over dessert, they dropped the bomb on us that they’re getting married over spring break, and they want us both to be in the wedding.”
“No!” Elizabeth screams, covering her mouth with her hands at the same time there’s a unanimous gasp among my friends.
“Yep. I can’t make this shit up.”
“Oh, my. That’s . . .” Samantha shakes her head. “What did Chris say?”
“Chris?” I roll my eyes. “You know him. He was his usual overly chipper self and all if you’re happy, I’m happy ,” I say, mocking him.
“And how would you feel if it wasn’t Chris’s mom?” Shannon asks.
“The thought of my father getting remarried to anyone is laughable. Ever since he left my mom, all he’s done is serial date. He’s had one failed marriage already, a family he completely gave up on, and he wants me to think this is the right thing? That I should take him seriously, and that it’ll last?” I shake my head. “I just don’t buy it, and yeah, the fact he’s dating Chris’s mother is freaking weird, but it’s not the reason I’m so against it.”
“So, what are you going to do?” Brynn asks. “Did you agree to be in the wedding?”
“Nope. I refuse to be involved in another sham”?I cough?“ ahem, marriage, of my father’s. I lived through the first one, which was a disaster. Why should I think this one will be any different?” I stare down at my drink, then take a sip, relishing the burn as it slides down my throat.
Maybe it’s not entirely fair to put the demise of my parents’ marriage on him. I know the score, just like I know living with my mother is impossible, but I can’t help but resent him for giving up on us, and for leaving me in a situation he was all too happy to escape himself.
“Anyway,” I say as I wave my hand, “if they want to get married, I won’t stand in their way. They’re adults. It’s not like I can tell them what to do, but they’ll have to do it without me.”
Brynn flops back in the booth, shaking her head in disbelief when her gaze lands on something behind me, and her eyes widen. “Oh, shi?”
“Sis!” a familiar baritone booms from behind me just before a giant arm wraps around my shoulders. “Let me in,” he says to Liz who slides out before I can hit her with my death stare, allowing Chris to take her place.
Heat shoots up my spine with an electric jolt as I turn my gaze to him. He’s wearing a backward baseball cap, along with a gray T-shirt and jeans I wish didn’t look so good on him.
“Call me that again,” I warn, “and I’ll karate chop you to the throat.”
“So violent.” He squeezes my shoulders again as I squirm away from him. “So, did Brynn tell you the good news?” he asks, turning toward my girlfriends.
“How has it been an hour already? We just barely got here.” I ask Brynn, ignoring the big buffoon beside me.
“Oh, yeah, about that . . .” Chris lifts my cup to his lips, takes a sip, and I nearly rip it from his giant mitt. “Jace got Brynn’s text, but I told him it was just a ploy to get girl time and convinced him we should head out early.”
I shoot a scathing look at Jace, then Brynn who grimaces, and mouths, Sorry . Beside them, Damon and Brandon wisely avoid the glare directed at them.
Scowling, I duck out from under the cover of Chris’s muscular bicep before I nudge him out of the booth?and by nudge, I mean stab him in the ribs with a knife hand?then promptly stomp toward the bar. Because if I’m going to survive this, I’m going to need a lot more liquor.