16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Allie
“I think I should change.”
I stare at myself in the full-length mirror while Ana and Nora stand behind me. Their eyes are practically drilling into mine like they’re already done with my crap.
“That’s a joke, right?” Ana asks with a single brow arched.
I spin around, arms smacking against my sides. “No, Ana. I’m not kidding. It doesn’t look right.”
She twirls a finger. “Turn back around.”
I roll my eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh, but slowly do as I’m told.
No matter what they say, though, I don’t feel right in this dress.
It’s short. Tight. Made of that clingy material that highlights every curve, every imperfection, instead of hiding it.
Plus, it’s sleeveless, which means keeping the girls in check is a whole other battle in itself.
I try to tug the neckline higher, but Ana slaps my hand away.
“Leave it alone,” she hisses through gritted teeth.
“I can’t go out like this,” I protest, now yanking the hem in a useless attempt to make it longer.
Ana grabs my shoulders and gives me a little shake. “Yes, you can, Allie. You look hot. We just have to make you feel hot. So, repeat after me.”
I roll my eyes again . This is ridiculous. Why can’t people just go to bars in pajamas? Then no one would see my mom pouch from a freakin’ mile away.
“I, Allison Lorraine Windsor,” Ana declares with a little too much enthusiasm.
She tilts her head and narrows her eyes when I don’t immediately follow her lead.
“I, Allison Lorraine Windsor,” I repeat, flat and unamused.
“Am a hot-ass bitch who’s going to steal someone’s man tonight,” Ana says with a grin.
I wince, shaking my head. “Nope. I’m not saying that.”
She laughs, gripping my shoulders again. “Okay, okay”—she pauses—“then just say: Am a hot-ass bitch. ”
“Am a hot-ass bitch,” I deadpan.
“Allie, I swear to God.” She spins me around and points at Nora. “You’re freaking out over your little black dress, which, for the record, covers everything, but look at Nora.”
Nora glances up from the bed. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” she asks, rising to check herself in the mirror.
Her red pleather dress hikes up as she straightens, basically flashing her entire ass.
“Nothing,” Ana says, dead serious. “I’m just saying your dress is way more revealing and you feel good, right?”
Nora tosses her hair in the mirror. “Right.”
“Exactly my point,” Ana says, hands on hips. “So, we’re gonna go out, have some drinks, look hot, and forget the night by tomorrow,” she finishes, leaving no room for argument.
I sigh louder than necessary, and glance back at my reflection.
Honestly, I should’ve just worn the damn leather pants. This dress? It’s doing nothing for me. All those imperfections I managed to ignore at the concert? They’re way too bright to hide tonight.
No matter how hard I try to suck it in, my mom pouch refuses to behave. Which, in turn, echoes Trevor’s voice in my head from every time he asked me if I was pregnant yet again . It was always with the same tone—more accusing than anything.
And my thighs are already rubbing together like they’re plotting against me.
This is a bad idea.
“Allie?” Ana’s voice softens as she steps closer. When I glance over, she tilts her head and gently brushes my hair off my shoulder. “ Bucket list .”
Ugh. That damn bucket list is going to be the death of me.
I manage a small smile and nod, even though every alarm in my brain is screaming for leggings and a baggy T-shirt. “Okay. Fine.”
Her eyes light up before she lunges, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispers.
I hug her back, trying to match her enthusiasm, but that nagging feeling doesn’t ease up. Because deep down, I know it’s just me needing to forget the way Trevor ruined my self-worth. But how can you forget something like that?
We were together since we were practically kids. If he grew to find me revolting, then…
“Hey,” Ana cuts through my spiral, nudging my elbow with a mischievous grin spreading across her lips. “Maybe you’ll even turn some heads tonight. Maybe even a particular Welsh one if you’re lucky.”
I shoot her a side-eye in the mirror. “Yeah, right. He said there’s a bar downstairs in their hotel. There’s no reason he’d come all the way to this side of the city.”
“Never say never,” Ana says with a shrug. “You two seem to be getting close. I wouldn’t be surprised if he drove here just on a chance.”
I narrow my eyes at her, unsure of what exactly she means by “getting closer.” Then I remember our moment in the kitchen when the lights went out.
I really thought he was going to kiss me that night, but he never tried again.
So, clearly, that was just my brain making me see things that aren’t really there.
“You can lock that thought away in your brain,” I say, gesturing toward her head, because clearly something’s loose up there.
“Aw, come on, Allie,” she says with a chuckle. “You can’t tell me you don’t see the way he looks at you. Like you’re the reason the freakin’ Earth spins.”
“He does not—”
She holds up a hand to cut me off. “I’m just saying.” She shrugs. “You two would make cute babies,” she adds, making stupid little kissy noises.
My cheeks heat, but no words fall from my mouth.
“ Excuse me, ” Nora cuts in with mock offense. “I think Gareth and I would make pretty cute babies.”
“Why are we even talking about babies right now?” I shake my head, suddenly feeling overly annoyed.
My face is on fire, and I know they can both see it. Which is probably why Ana keeps pushing since it’s her favorite thing to do. But what she doesn’t know is that deep down… it hurts .
I’m not going to sit here and deny the fact that I have a crush on Jax. It’s a totally normal human reaction when you’re around someone with as much talent as he has, and how sweet and caring he’s been while I’ve been missing my girls, and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs.
But it’ll never happen.
Rock stars don’t end up with single moms. Not in the movies, not in the books, and definitely not in real life. We’re always the ones forgotten.
I’m not going to let myself get attached to a false hope. The attraction can exist, sure, but it’s going to stay exactly where it is. Quiet. Contained. Safe. Where it can’t be touched or hurt.
And honestly, if he really did look at me the way Ana claims he does… he would’ve texted me by now.
I walk to my bedroom door, flinging it open as it bounces off the wall. Their heads snap up when they see me standing in the doorway.
“Let’s go, girls,” I say with my best Shania Twain impression.
One thing I didn’t look up before leaving New Hampshire? How wild the bar scene is in Boston. And honestly? I’m glad I didn’t. Because if I had, we absolutely wouldn’t be here right now.
Standing outside on a crowded sidewalk for half an hour doesn’t sound that bad. But when you’re in heels and a short dress… it’s pretty awful.
When we finally reach the entrance, a tall man with a round midsection and a five o’clock shadow stands with his arms crossed like a statue.
“ID?” he asks, not moving an inch.
I dig mine out of my wallet and hand it over quickly.
He studies the picture for a few seconds, then glances at me, then back at the photo.
Probably because it looks like a fake. My license photo was taken right before I had Lydia, so my face was a lot more…
round . I’ve lost nearly sixty pounds since then, something I’m proud of, but it’s made using my ID a lot more difficult.
He hands it back without even cracking a smile, then gives a slight nod toward the door. “You’re all set.”
“Thank you,” I say, squeezing past him and into the bar.
Stepping inside, it’s just as packed as I imagined it’d be from the line outside. A sea of bodies sways to the beat, the bass vibrating through my bones, and I haven’t even had a drink yet.
Suddenly, Ana grabs my hand and yanks me toward the bar top, practically throwing me onto a stool. She leans forward and somehow, with barely any effort, flags down the bartender.
Her gaze snaps to mine as she leans in, shouting, “Shots?”
I nod. Shots feel like the move tonight. Mostly so I don’t keep thinking about how many people are crammed in here and just how many of them might be judging me and my poor choice in clothing.
Drunk Allie won’t notice—but sober Allie? She sees everything.
The bartender slides three shots down the bar, and I catch mine easily. We clink our glasses, and I throw back the shot, the liquid burning its way down, immediately spreading a warmth in my chest.
I slam the shot glass down with a loud clank , shaking my head vigorously. God, it tastes like straight rubbing alcohol. Ana and her love for tequila shots are going to be the death of me.
I twirl a finger in the air. “Might as well keep them coming!” I shout over the music.
“ Ah! ” Ana cheers, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “That’s my girl!”
By the third… fourth? Maybe even fifth shot, my whole body is humming with warmth. My shoulders start to sway to the music, even while still seated.
Nora leans into me, laughing so hard she nearly knocks me off the stool.
“Oh my Godd. We need tequila m-more often, ” Nora slurs, clinging to my arm.
“Maybe… maybe just one more,” I say to Ana, holding up one finger like it’ll convince her.
She shakes her head and leans in close enough to shout in my ear, “That’s enough for now, girl. Slow down.”
I point at her, swaying dangerously while my vision starts to double.
“You ssaid we were here to get drunk”—I hold up one finger—“ and ssteal someone’s boyfriend,” I add with a pout, slowly raising a second finger.
Ana bursts into laughter, pulling out her phone while shaking her head.
Then the next song hits—something fast, loud, and loaded with bass. The vibrations call to me, pulling me to the dance floor like a magnet.
I turn to Nora, tug on her arm, and point toward the overflowing dance floor by the DJ booth. “Let’ss dance!” I yell, already dragging her to her feet before she can even answer.
She nearly drops her phone in the process but eventually stumbles along. We squeeze through the crowd of people until we find a spot the two of us can fit comfortably, and I sway my hips back and forth. Letting the music lead my body while everything else just fades away.
I close my eyes and keep moving, not feeling anything as the alcohol plunges me deeper into a state of… not caring . Not caring if my dress is riding up, or down, for that matter. Not caring if anyone’s watching me like I’ve lost my mind.
I’m having fun . Way more fun than I ever thought I’d have tonight. And that’s what really matters.
Then, I feel hands on my hips.
My eyes snap open, and Nora’s nowhere to be found.
My heart slams against my chest as I try to scan the room, but everything is spinning. Faces blur together, melting into one big, moving color-smeared mess that makes my stomach twist.
The hands pull me closer, and my body feels too heavy, too weak to fight it. So instead… I just keep dancing. Because deep down, I know I’m safe. Nothing will happen to me here.
Not with Ana close by.
But something doesn’t feel right about these hands.
They’re rough—not in the sexy kind of way, but in the kind that makes my heart lurch into my throat. The kind that makes my skin crawl as they travel lower, grazing just above my ass.
Fight or flight finally kicks in, and I use all the strength I have to pry the stranger’s hands off me and spin around.
“What’s up, baby? Wanna take this somewhere else?” the man slurs, his hand sliding back around my waist, pulling me flush against him again.
I plant both hands on his chest and push as hard as I can. “N-no,” I stammer, stumbling back from the force.
He looks at me like I’m the crazy one—but thank God, he listens. He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath, then disappears into the crowd.
And suddenly, I’m left standing there.
Alone .
In a sea of unfamiliar faces.
The bass still pulses along with the blinding lights, but all I can feel is the weight in my legs and the way the alcohol has me sinking like cinderblocks are tied around my ankles.
I don’t know where Nora went.
I don’t know if Ana’s still at the bar.
Panic starts to claw at my throat, creeping slowly up my spine when a hand suddenly grabs onto my shoulder.
I whip around and quickly step back, nearly stumbling into the person behind me.
“Dude!” I yell—then immediately start laughing.
Nora stands there, her eyes half closed, swaying back and forth as her eyebrows draw together. “Arrre you m-madd at me?” she slurs, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout.
“Oh, Nora!” I yell, wrapping my arms around her neck, almost sending us both crashing to the floor. “I thought I losst you!”
She regains her balance and laughs. “I thought I l-losst me,” she says, her finger digging into her chest.
Nora’s arms tangle with mine as we jump around, letting out every ounce of energy we somehow still have. We dance, jump, and bounce until I completely forget the feel of the stranger’s hands and my legs are shaking, screaming for a break.
But does drunk Allie listen to screaming limbs? Absolutely not.
So I push on, ignoring the way my knees buckle every time my feet hit the solid ground. Strictly because…
I can.