28. Lily
Lily
A s soon as we start throwing out words like cunteloupe , Lucas throws back the rest of his drink, puts a few notes down on the table and takes off, making us both cackle like witches.
The curses don’t lessen by the time we switch to margaritas and suck back four tequila shots, any thought of it being a workday tomorrow long gone.
Now, I turn a death stare on her. “Enough about Skeletor,” I declare. “That’s a problem for later. Tomorrow. Maybe next week. You though—” I point a finger at her, lowering my voice sternly. “You have some ‘splaining to do.”
She slumps back in her seat, eyes just a little glazed. “Can’t we put this off until next week as well?”
“No.”
“Well, you can’t be mad about this, then. I’m feeling vulnerable, and you have to be nice to me.” She flutters her lashes dramatically, but that stuff has never worked on me.
“I’m not promising that.”
“Why not?”
I lift my brows pointedly. “Because you wouldn’t ask that unless what you’re gonna say is gonna make me mad.”
Sasha blows out a breath, her shoulders tight around her ears. She locks eyes with me, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Caleb and me?—”
“There’s a Caleb and you?”
The look in her eyes is baleful. “Are you gonna let me get this out or not?” I mime zipping my lips.
“We dated in college. I was a junior, and he was a senior. We were together for about six months…” she rubs her lips together, eyes overly bright.
I cast my mind back, going back to our years in college and trying to place him, but there’s nothing.
“I thought I loved him,” Sasha admits quietly, reaching for her drink, gulping down a mouthful. “Or I did love him. I’m not really sure anymore, to be honest.”
My mouth is agape as I stare at her because, according to my fuzzy memory, my commitment-phobic friend has never been with anyone longer than a month.
“How…how didn’t I know this? We spent—we were together all the time.
How did you hide a relationship for half a year?
” I shake my head. “Wait, don’t answer that.
It’s not important. Or it is, but…Sash, what happened? ”
She trails her nails over the condensation on the side of her glass. “I overheard him,” she says quietly. “Talking to his friends. He, um…he said I wasn’t wife material.” She sniffs delicately, keeping her head down. “Whatever that means. What, I couldn’t iron his pant creases just so? Prick.”
There’s something in her tone that makes me ask, “What else?”
The sun dropped over an hour ago and the warm lights that line the outer walls of Lolita’s are more mood lighting than interrogation lighting. Still, I can tell she’s more pale than usual.
“He told his friends they could have me, Lil,” she says in a horrified whisper, lip trembling, and I know she’s still hearing every single nasty word in her head.
“We didn’t sleep together for months because I wanted to be sure, you know?
And he told them they could have me. All they needed to do was call me pretty, and I’d sprea—” she clamps her teeth down on her bottom lip, cutting the words off.
“That motherfucker,” I growl out, anger hot in my chest. I clench my hands into fists, knowing if he was standing right in front of me, I’d sock him in the jaw.
“Yeah,” she says. “I loved him and he… ”
“Shit all over it?”
She hiccups out a rough laugh. “Shit all over it, ran it over and then set it on fire.”
“Your obsession with fire is a little concerning.”
She ignores that, rubbing the heel of her palm over her chest. “I haven’t seen him in five years.
I can’t believe he was here. That he was your date the other night.
” She blinks rapidly, the drunken haze dissipating under the heavy subject.
“He looked right through me, like he had no idea who I was!”
The question spills out before I can stop it, “Do you think he did?”
She blinks, her lashes spiked and clumped together, but then shakes her head. “I think it fits with his MO,” she murmurs finally. “His words have been affecting me for years and he forgot I even existed. God, what a dick.”
I nod in agreement, before saying, “I have a question, judge!”
“Not in court, but okay. I can role-play with the best of them.” She squints an eye at me, looking more pirate than judge. “Approach the bench, counselor!”
I widen my eyes, making myself look as pitiful as possible, which isn’t hard considering I’m sweating tequila. “How come Lucas knew?”
She jerks backwards and I can see the lies about to tip off her tongue. I lean further across the table, jabbing a finger in her direction and almost take out her eye.
“Don’t say he didn’t! He cuddled you. He smiled and called you soft!”
She glares at me. “He called my sweater soft,” she argues, holding an arm out. “And it is! Feel it!”
I swat her away. “I don’t want to feel your grandma sweater. Sasha, seriously.” There’s a pinch of hurt in my stomach, possibly higher, and I don’t think it’s from the booze. “How could you never have told me? How come Lucas knew?”
She grimaces remorsefully. “Look, this isn’t my first time with tequila, okay?
I got drunk with Lucas one night, and it just…
it all came out.” She gives me a beseeching look.
“He makes a good listening ear.” Her expression turns frightening.
“But if you tell him I said that, I will gut you like a pig. ”
I sit back, only slightly mollified. “A pig? Isn’t it fish?”
“Isn’t what a fish?”
I shake my head but when I stop, the world keeps on going. “Woah.” Just when I start pitching over in my chair, a hand drops down on my shoulder, halting the downward movement.
“Ladies.” Whiskey and velvet rasps over my senses, making me shiver, goosebumps lifting on my skin. Clearly, I’m colder than I realized. I stare at Sasha, wide-eyed, but she’s too busy looking up to notice.
She drops her stare, cupping her hand around her mouth. “Hey, girrrrrrl,” she sings out, not at all quietly. “Your ex-husband is here, and he looks fine. Way better than some lawyer fuck.”
I snicker, throwing my head back and finding Declan staring down at me, his mouth smiling and brown eyes confused. “Lawyer fuck,” he echoes, brows twitching. “Are we bitching about Lucas again?”
Sasha slowly blinks one eye, and then the other, almost like she’s doing a Mexican wave with her eyeballs. “No. I mean, yes. Always. But also no.”
He nods like she makes sense. “Alright. Well, it’s time to go. Sasha, I’ll give you a ride home as well, but if you even think about puking in my car, I’m kicking you to the curb.” He helps me up, hooking an arm around my waist.
Sasha makes a pfft noise. “You would never. You know I hold influence over—” she flaps a limp hand at me. “I can help you, or I can totally sink your battleship.” She scoots out of her chair, looking almost steady on her feet, while I’m leaning heavily against Declan.
“How did you know?” I ask him.
“How did I know what, baby?” he murmurs, his breath stirring my hair, and my stomach swoops. Until I remember we don’t like him and his endearments, and I scowl.
“How did you know we were here?” I gasp loudly. “Are you stalking me again?”
“Again?” Sasha moans. “I’m always the last to know things.”
I laser her with my eyes. “Five years,” I declare, going straight back to being miffed.
“You didn’t tell me about that rat bastard for five years, and if he hadn’t been slinking past tonight…
” I jab a finger downwards, smacking it into the table with a wince.
“If he hadn’t been here tonight,” I say imperiously, glaring down my nose at my best friend, “you never would’ve said a word.
” She stares back at me, mouth set mutinously.
“Are we still talking about Lucas?” Declan wonders. “Never mind. This seems like a conversation to have while you’re sober. Come on, ladies. Up and at ‘em.”
He wrangles us into his car, with Sasha in the seat behind me. As he slides into the driver’s seat, he looks over at me, something soft in his eyes, “Seatbelt, Lily.”
I fumble for the belt, but he reaches over, his fingers brushing against mine as he helps me get it into place.
He looks back to check Sasha is secured, making my heart skip a beat, and then he’s doing up his own belt and starting the car.
Heat immediately starts blasting through the vents, warming me all over.
“Put Sasha’s address into the GPS,” he tells me.
Sasha leans forward as I type the address in. “So, how did you know?” she queries. “Is stalking your new job now that you’re unemployed? It can’t pay much. And if I was stalking Lily, I’d be bored to tears after a day…” she pauses, “Actually, after an hour.”
“Hey!” I shoot her a scowl, but then look at Declan expectantly, just as he hooks his arm around my headrest as he reverses out of the park, ignoring the very convenient rear-camera the car came with. But I barely even look at him, and heat definitely isn’t curling low between my hips.
If it is, it’s just the alcohol.
He shoots me a quick look out of the corner of his eye, one side of his mouth kicking up, but I ignore him. “It was Lucas,” he answers after a moment. “He sent me a message telling me where you guys were and that a ride might be…necessary.”
“God,” Sasha growls, aggravated. “That guy is such a snitch.”
I frown at Declan. “Why didn’t you call?”
“I did,” he says. “Your phone must be off.”
“Oh.” I pull it out of my bag and, sure enough, the battery is dead.
“Oh,” he repeats, with another long look. “Lucas also mentioned you guys might have something you need to tell me.” His heavy brows dip in concern, his eyes flicking between the road, the rearview mirror, and me.
“Snitch!” Sasha hisses in the back.
I shrug, leaning forward to press random buttons on the console. Declan watches with amusement but doesn’t stop me as I erase all his preset radio stations. “Lucas just told us that we’re pregnant with an imaginary baby and that’s why we’re, you know, annulled.”
There’s a long pause as Declan’s mouth works, clearly unsure what to make of all that. “Nope, I need more information.”
“Oh, come on,” Sasha pipes up. “It’s easy. Silvia told everyone that Lily baby-trapped you.”