Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
When her mom died, she could lose three weeks in a blink.
She’d wake up one day, check her calendar, and be absolutely floored to find that another month had slipped away.
The three weeks between walking out of Milo’s bedroom, and seeing him in her doorway as she tossed the last of her Vegas necessities into her bag had crawled by—and no amount of blinking had hurried the days.
“Oh Jesus,” she gasped, unprepared to see anyone watching her from the door, but especially him.
They’d run into one another twice since Logan had left, and both times were so excruciating that she had heavily considered going back home and telling Sara that their twenty years of friendship had been great, but she was simply going to pass away.
Seeing him in the doorway, his dark curls still wet from the shower, was no different.
“Arizona.”
“Hey,” she murmured.
“You look like you’re dreading this as much as I am.”
“I’m not dreading seeing you,” she whispered, all too aware that Sara was clinging to every errant phrase she could catch from the living room. “I’m dreading seeing Logan. But you, I know you’ll at least be nice.”
“Have you talked to him?”
She laughed. “What do you think?”
Milo sighed and folded his arms. “He sent me some choice words a few days ago.”
“I’m so sorry, Milo. I figured with Sloane, he’d gotten over whatever feelings he had for me. I don’t know, it was all really confusing. I hate that I made things weird for you guys. I never wanted to come between friends.”
Milo’s lips fell into an odd twist. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that one.”
“Hanna!” Matty called from downstairs. “Did you print a boarding pass?”
She leaned out of her room. “Oh shit, is this flight leaving from the nineteen hundreds?”
That got a laugh out of Milo, a sound that tore a hole in her chest.
Matty called back, “What if your phone dies?”
“I’ll use yours. You packed, what, three extended batteries for a two-hour flight?”
Matty mumbled something, and Sara shushed him.
“Airport Dad is anxious,” Milo said.
“Airport Dad is not confident in his best man, groomsman, or maid of honor’s abilities to be cool, baby.” She shot finger guns at him and he dramatically brought his hands to his chest, throwing his head back with each hit.
He leaned against the doorframe. “We’re cool! We’re so cool. I just saw all the slutty underwear you’re packing and I’m barely thinking about the way your breath hitches in my ear when you—”
Matty yelled again, “What about your ID? Do you have it in an easily accessible pocket?”
“Yep!” she yelled back, turning to Milo. “Is this what you want, Milo? To go back to the dirty-talking and teasing?”
He dropped his eyes to hers, pushing her back against the wall.
“It’s easier for me to be a sleazy jackass, Arizona. Hurts less than being real. But I can shut it down.”
She pressed her lips together. She could understand that. And frankly, get behind it.
“I suppose I do miss your bullshit.”
“Great! And if I push it too far, just tell me to go fuck myself.”
She crawled her hand over his chest, slapping him gently on the cheek as she rolled her carry-on by him.
“And you would, like the good little boy you are.”
Milo glared, took her suitcase, and hauled it over his shoulder.
“Don’t be mean to me, I’ll come.”
She was officially down one awkward former lover.
One to go.
* * *
“Okay, you can open your eyes!”
Sara stepped forward, pulling the silver Bride to Be sleep mask off her face as the rest of her bridesmaids exploded into a chorus of giggles.
“Oh my god, you guys!” She spun around a glittering penthouse suite at The Cosmo, the noisy Vegas strip bustling below.
“Surprise!” Taylor yelled, her ponytail bouncing as she pulled Sara into the room. There were balloons, champagne bottles, and rhinestones everywhere.
“This is amazing,” Sara cried, touching a banner that read Lucky in Love. “Oh Jesus,” she giggled at the bucket of penis straws.
“Your mom sent those,” Hanna informed her.
“We’ll tell her we loved them.”
Hanna popped the cork off a bottle of rosé and handed it over.
“Welcome to your bachelorette weekend! You’ve got a glam squad in the bathroom, we’re having pre-dinner cocktails at Ghost Donkey, dinner at Vanderpump, and then we’re going dancing at Marquee with the boys!”
Sara’s eyes welled. “This is the best, Hanna. Thank you.”
“Go get in the chair! Yell if your glass gets empty!”
Sara disappeared into one of the bathrooms, and the rest of the girls milled about, snapping selfies with the suite decor and snacking as they got ready for the night.
“You outdid yourself,” Taylor said, pouring a glass of champagne. “How ya doing, sunshine?”
She looped an arm around Hanna’s shoulders and leaned her head into her.
Hanna hadn’t seen Taylor since she’d moved to Boston after school, but she’d been so kind when her mom was sick, checking in daily for the first few months after until she was confident Hanna wasn’t going to completely lose it.
“I’m fine. Great, actually. I’ve been staying with Sara and Matty out in the Bay.
“Good change of pace?”
“Definitely.”
“Helps that the man across the hall is hot as hell,” Maricela, Sara’s cousin, said with brows arched, popping a grape into her mouth. She turned to Taylor. “I met him at the engagement party. Dreamboat.”
Taylor’s eyes snapped to Hanna’s. “You holding out on me?”
“No,” she laughed, even though it crushed her to say it. “We’re just good friends.”
If the girls knew just how good of friends Hanna and Milo had been a few weeks prior, they'd never let it go
“I need pictures,” Taylor demanded. Hanna pulled up Milo’s Instagram on her phone and handed it over. Taylor scrolled for a solid minute before glaring. “Oof, good luck.”
“I mean it. It’s platonic. We decided to just stick to being friends after we—”
She realized at the same time they did that she had said too much.
“Spill,” Maricela said. Taylor leaned in, still scrolling through Milo’s feed.
“Nothing,” Hanna said, shrugging them off. “We hooked up once, immediately regretted it and decided to drop it.”
“Idiots,” Taylor mumbled, zooming in on one of Milo’s arms. “You two are idiots.” Hanna’s phone buzzed and Taylor’s eyes flickered between whatever she saw and Hanna’s face. “Miss ma’am.” Her cheeks flushed and she tapped the screen, holding it up to Maricela.
“Hanna!” They giggled as she lunged for the phone.
“Give me that,” she muttered, panicked.
ALWAYS ANSWER
We just left the airport bar.
You drunk yet?
Or do you need a bad influence?
“No, no, okay, that’s not what it looks like.” She blushed a thousand shades of red. “I mean it, we decided to just go back to our harmless flirting to keep ourselves from going crazy this weekend. It’s a long story.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Taylor snorted. “Can’t wait to watch that play out with Logan this weekend.”
You and everyone else, Hanna thought.
“This weekend is about Sara and Matty, okay? Not my bullshit.”
HANNA
You’re going to love what I’m wearing tonight.
ALWAYS ANSWER
Bet I’d love it off you more.
HANNA
Are you that bored with your friends?
ALWAYS ANSWER
I’m not bored. I’m tense. Just picked up Logan.
HANNA
Ugh. What’s the vibe?
ALWAYS ANSWER
It’s not great, Arizona.
HANNA
Tell Logan I say, ‘Fuck off.’ He’ll know what it means.
ALWAYS ANSWER
Easy, hotshot.
Did you get my gift?
HANNA
No?
ALWAYS ANSWER
Check the bar.
She left the bathroom and beelined for the bar in the kitchenette, several overpriced bottles glittering under the hotel lighting.
But one amber bottle sat to the side with a yellow ribbon around the neck and a card tucked beneath a round flask, a silver sunflower carved into it.
“What’s that?” Taylor asked, peering around her shoulder. She snagged the card out of Hanna’s hand before she could read it.
“Arizona,” she read. “You can be nice to anyone for three days. But if you can’t, here’s some emergency bourbon to take the edge off. M.”
Taylor threw her head back in a cackle. “Oh yeah, you two are totally platonic.”
Hanna stared at the note and felt a bubble of panic rise in her chest. She grimaced, pulling the cork from the bottle and taking a swig before filling the flask, grasping for the breathing exercises Olivia had taught her.
“Just don’t judge me this weekend, okay?”
* * *
By the time Sara left the suite, blown out and blurred, she was a bottle of champs down and ready to party. Hanna’s thirty-year-old back twitched. She rocked in the elevator in her heels, already certain they’d be slung in her hands by the end of the night.
As they descended a thousand floors, she pulled at the hem of her skirt, acutely aware of how short it was. Her phone buzzed in her clutch, rattling against her new flask.
DO NOT ANSWER
Excited to see you tonight!
(3) Missed Calls ALWAYS ANSWER
ALWAYS ANSWER
You update my name in your phone to sometimes answer?
HANNA
Sorry, was busy squeezing myself into the world’s smallest dress.
ALWAYS ANSWER
Logan and Sloane broke up.
HANNA
Oh.
Jesus.
Is he a mess?
ALWAYS ANSWER
He’s being alarmingly chill about the whole thing.
“What’s going on?” Sara asked.
“Sloane and Logan broke up,” she murmured. The elevator stopped and they poured out into the casino.
“What! What happened? Is he okay?”
“I’m not sure. All my intel is coming from Milo. He says things seem okay?”
Sara tilted her head. “Huh.”
“I know, I wonder what happened.”
“No, I mean, huh, Milo hates drama. Wild that he’s even involving himself. Or that you two are even talking at all.” Sara’s brown eyes settled on hers.
When was the last time Hanna had even looked Sara in them?
“I think he just doesn’t want me blindsided.”
“How thoughtful,” she said, eyes narrowing.
Taylor inserted herself between them, grabbing Sara’s hand and twirling her toward the nearest cocktail bar.
“What fruity little drink am I buying you first?”
ALWAYS ANSWER
Are you fucking kidding me?
HANNA
What now?
ALWAYS ANSWER