Chapter Fifteen
“Wait,” Kendall said, her jaw practically hitting the floor.
“You tried to kiss Sloane?” She was pointing at Reese as she spoke, completely stunned at the revelation.
She was actually almost as shocked by the casual way Sloane had just tossed out that detail, like she was merely commenting on Reese’s Converse sneakers. “I can’t believe it.”
However, the entire thing was completely believable.
Reese kissed everyone… or at least she tried.
Men and women alike. She had no preferences, and Kendall had always enjoyed that fluidity about her friend.
Reese had a way of floating through life with this wild, untamed openness, kissing people like other people tried new foods.
“She broke my nose,” Reese accused, sending her own finger toward Sloane. “I had to go to the emergency room. The doctor said I was lucky it was a clean break, and I didn’t need surgery.”
“You shouldn’t have tried to kiss me,” Sloane said coolly, dropping her camera bag and laptop onto the dining room table. “You should’ve read the room.”
“The room was full of drunk people,” Reese shot back. “Everyone was basically making out,” she huffed extra loud and then brought her fingers to her temple. “Honestly, I don’t even remember much of that night.”
It was obvious that Reese was trying to distance herself in the most Reese-esque way—to declare the entire thing a hazy blur—but there was no denying that she was completely and utterly mortified.
Her ivory skin was pink, even at the hairline, which her naturally white hair didn’t manage to cover up.
Kendall was relishing every minute of it.
It wasn’t often her best friend blushed, though it was less beetroot red and more of a soft pink.
Still, it was fun to see. A reversal of roles.
Not to mention that the entire event made Sloane seem more human, like if she could break a person’s nose then she could perhaps, maybe, catch feelings.
The thought was exciting. Too exciting. Kendall had to push it down deep so as not to get her hopes up.
It wasn’t like she was catching feelings.
But the sex had been so good and every time she looked at Sloane, stood too close to her, and accidentally knocked her wrist with her hand, well, it brought up this fuzzy, delicious heat only a bucket of ice water could tame.
Luckily for her, there were enough theatrics to keep her mind occupied.
“I thought you said you broke your nose walking into your cupboard,” Kendall grinned, remembering the lie.
Reese pulled a face at her. “No one breaks their nose walking into a cupboard.”
“Well, you convinced me,” Kendall said, leaning forward to poke her friend’s nose.
Or at least tried to.
Reese leaned back, scowling, and grabbed her still-tender nose with both hands.
“I’m regretting this visit,” she mumbled, feeling sorry for herself.
“I didn’t think I’d be teased so mercilessly upon my arrival.
In fact, I had assumed you’d be bending over backward to thank me for making the drive out here. Where’s the margaritas you promised?”
Kendall laughed. She was in a terribly good mood.
The day had gone swimmingly so far and margaritas with her forever best friend would be the cherry on top. Or maybe the cherry was finding out Sloane had broken Reese’s nose. Maybe it was discovering that Sloane thankfully hadn’t kissed Kendall’s best friend. That would’ve been a disaster.
Unfortunately, her mood faltered quickly when she watched Sloane sit down at the dining table, remove her laptop from its sleeve, and place headphones over her ears.
Kendall walked right over and removed those headphones. She ignored the appalled expression on Sloane’s face as if Kendall had smacked her across the cheek. “Are you seriously going to work right now?” Kendall said, holding the earphones out of reach.
“Yes,” Sloane replied matter-of-factly. “The edits won’t do themselves.”
Reese sidled up behind Kendall and rested her chin on her shoulder. Kendall didn’t have to see her friend’s face to know she was jutting out her bottom lip. “I’ve come all this way, Sloane dear, and from what Robbie has told me, I know there’s a party girl in there somewhere.”
Sloane scowled.
“Oh, come on,” Reese said cheerily as she stepped back and clapped her hands. “I know of this amazing little bar in the center of town. It’s got great music and good vibes and they put tiny umbrellas in all of their cocktails. You know I’m a sucker for those tiny umbrellas.”
Kendall stepped sideways and shot her friend a quizzical look. “How do you know there’s a good bar in Santa Clarita?”
“Frank,” Reese said plainly. “Remember him?” Kendall could not remember a Frank, but then again, there had been Frankies and Fredericks, and she couldn’t possibly keep up.
“Well, he’s from here. Valencia specifically, and he told me all about this place called Sultry Suds. I’ve been dying to try it out.”
“Maybe another time,” Sloane said, typing a few words onto her keyboard.
“Nope,” Reese declared and shut the laptop lid, narrowly missing Sloane’s fingers, which she had thankfully yanked out of the way. “You can work again tomorrow when I’m not here. Now come, put on your sexiest little black dress, and let’s get the hell out of here.”
When they got to Sultry Suds less than an hour later, Reese was the only one dressed in anything skimpy.
Her silver heartline dress hugged her curves and ended right beneath her ass.
Luckily, she had legs to die for. Kendall, who hadn’t brought any outfits fit for a bar with the word sultry in the title, had borrowed a satin midi dress in midnight blue.
Sloane, on the other hand, was wearing a sleek black jumpsuit she had pulled out of her Louis Vuitton duffel bag.
The woman looked gorgeous. Kendall had done a double take… a triple take, even. She had even gulped down air, choked on her breath, and had to excuse herself to the bathroom.
At least everything was under control now.
The bar was something straight out of a burlesque show.
The walls were deep sapphire velvet, the lights on the ceiling glowed like gems and the tables were all metallic with tall red cushioned stools surrounding them.
Behind the shimmering silver bar, shelves stretched up to the ceiling lined with rare tequilas and mezcals.
All around, people were chatting and laughing and holding up drinks with those famous tiny umbrellas that didn’t suit the theme of the place.
They found one of those circular metallic tables with high stools and sat down with their drinks.
Reese was sipping happily on a Moscow Mule, bouncing in her seat to the music and Kendall was following in rhythm.
Meanwhile, Sloane sat as stiff as a board, glancing around as if she was choosing the best person to flag down and claim that she was being held hostage.
“You need to loosen up,” Reese said, shaking out her arms, and then her legs.
It was kind of cute how she thought she could get Sloane to ease up.
Kendall knew better.
“I am loose,” Sloane said. “I’ll be even looser if that waiter can hurry up with my drink.” She snapped her head to the bar, scowling. Her old-fashioned was taking considerably long to throw together.
“You know,” Reese said, unbothered by Sloane’s snappish tone. “Isn’t it funny how life works? When Kendall said she was doing the documentary with you,” she pointed at Sloane. “I was like hell no, that’s got to be some sort of sign.”
“Or just a coincidence,” Sloane said dryly. “Statistically, there’s about a twenty-five percent chance of running into someone again, especially if you frequent the same places.”
Kendall had no idea if that was even true or if Sloane was just throwing out a random number to get Reese off her back. Either way, she spoke with enough conviction for Kendall to believe her.
Reese just shrugged and sipped her drink.
Kendall opened her mouth to say something, but her brain was lagging a few seconds behind. Luckily, Sloane spoke. “So, whose idea was it to set up the blind date?”
“Robbie’s,” Reese replied. “He mentioned he had a friend that needed a pick me up and Kendall, over here, needed a good fuck.”
“Reese!” Kendall cried, hiding her face in her hands. She was grateful for the low lighting in the bar that was doing a solid job of hiding her impending blush.
“What?” Reese said, giving her most innocent, angelic smile. “You haven’t been laid in like what, two years?” Kendall hadn’t told her best friend that she had sex with Sloane right after the blind date. It was too embarrassing. “That vibrator of yours has been through the wars.”
Desperate to change the conversation before her face got so hot it exploded, Kendall, who didn’t dare look at Sloane—in case the woman mentioned that they had had sex just the other night—quickly asked, “Who’s Robbie again?
Have I met him?” It would be weird if she hadn’t met Reese’s cousin.
Yet she couldn’t put a face to the name.
“Of course you have. It’s Rob. Blonde Rob with the ex-husband who stole everything. Remember? You met him at my twenty-eighth birthday party. He dropped that pizza slice on your leg.”
A light bulb burst above Kendall’s head. Figuratively, of course. She suddenly had a vision of Blonde Rob tripping over the edge of a shag carpet, a pizza slice flying through the air and landing on her white jeans.
The song changed and Reese, who loved Enrique Iglesias, and thought he was terribly sexy, shrugged off the stool and sashayed over to the dance floor. Despite it only being eight p.m., there were already a few people dancing.
“She really does seem like the life of the party,” Sloane said, watching her over Kendall’s shoulder.
“You have no idea,” Kendall said, swiveling her head back to the dance floor. “People just love her. She can make friends with literally anyone.”
“I can see that,” Sloane said. She flicked her gaze to Reese, who was now grinding against some hot guy on the dance floor.
Her dress was skin tight and moving up her toned legs as she danced.
The man took advantage of this and ran his hands along her thighs.
Reese didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she relished it.
“She’s everyone’s type,” Kendall said. “I haven’t met a person, man or woman, who doesn’t think she’s some angel sent from heaven just for them. I’m surprised you didn’t kiss her when you had the chance.”
“Is she yours?” Sloane asked, eyes locking onto Kendall’s so tight, she had to look away. “Your type?”
Kendall wanted to say, my type is ice queen boss lady with a stick up her ass, but that would be too obvious, wouldn’t it? Instead, she twirled her straw in her drink and shrugged. “Maybe, when we first met in college. But we’re very different and I realized that quickly.”
Sloane thought about this for a moment. A moment that had Kendall wondering all about Sloane’s type. She wanted to ask her, but fear was like a hand holding her back.
What if Kendall wasn’t Sloane’s type? What if Sloane liked a woman who didn’t change tires, who stayed safe distances from fires, or someone who couldn’t carry a person over her shoulder while descending a ladder?
What if Kendall was the opposite of Sloane’s type and the only reason they had slept together was out of convenience? Kendall was just the aloe to soothe Sloane’s sunburn.
Just then, Kendall’s phone rang. She checked the screen and ice suddenly trickled down her spine.
Her dad only ever called when he wanted something, or to tell her something.
The last time he reached out, it was to declare his investment in a documentary film, and before that, it had been to announce his divorce from Valerie.
“I’ve got to take this,” Kendall said, pointing at her ringing phone. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t take too long,” Sloane said, a smile just tipping the edges of her lips. “Just in case Reese needs you to save her.”
Kendall nodded and shot a quick glance at her friend, who was happily making out with the hot guy. She then marched out of the bar, and only answered the call once she was outside in the parking lot, in the fresh air.
“Hi Dad. What’s going on?”