23. The Hottest Bitch
THE HOTTEST BITCH
Ivy
Aspen handed me a garment bag with a huge smile on her face.
“What is that?” I stared at her hand as she shook it at me expectantly.
“Take the damn bag, Ivy. I grow weary waiting on you.”
I let out a huff at her dramatics—we’d been watching too many fantasy shows lately, and it was showing. Snatching the hanger from her, I unzipped the bag. The first thing I noticed was an obscene amount of pink glitter.
“Aspen,” I whispered, my eyes glued to the dress in my hands.
“Now, before you even start, I know what you’re going to say.
You don’t want to do anything. It’s not a big deal.
Blah blah bullshit whatever. But listen.
I don’t actually care about any of that.
We’re going out. You’re going to pull a Tessa and be way overdressed for The Raven, and we’re going to dance.
Then, when we’re exhausted and can’t dance another moment, we’re all going to my house for game night and junk food.
I mean, how often does a girl’s birthday fall on a Saturday? ”
I rolled my eyes. “Every seven years or so. Leap year dependent, of course.”
“Why don’t you want to go out? Honestly?”
Ignoring her, I unzipped the bag the rest of the way and hung the hanger on the back of my bedroom door so I could look at the dress.
It was a dusty rose. Thick straps came down to a square neckline, and then the skirt puffed out to fall mid-thigh.
The back had what looked like the back of a corset, and a big pink bow sat at the bottom of the lacing.
It was gorgeous and everything I would’ve picked for my birthday party—had I actually wanted to have one.
I’d spent the last two weeks pretending everything in my life was fine.
I’d avoided any and all questions regarding my relationship.
It was as if once I voiced my thoughts to Oliver that night on his back porch, the rest of me just closed up.
I hadn’t told Mom or Ember, and I definitely hadn’t told Aspen.
I wasn’t even sure what was stopping me from telling them.
It wasn’t as if I was the one cheating and lying to my significant other every damn day.
It was him. So why was I holed up in my apartment, scared to speak the words to anyone that wasn’t the stoic cowboy.
The cowboy who hadn’t brought it up once since that night.
In fact, he’d been an absolute gentleman, and I wasn’t sure how to take that, either.
A small part of me wondered if I hadn’t brought it up because of that conversation with Oliver.
Towards the end, it had felt like we were…
flirting, and maybe that made me just as guilty as Todd.
Maybe we were just two fucked-up people and that was why I hadn’t said anything to anyone who would drag me from this relationship.
I felt guilty and as if maybe…well, maybe I deserved this on some level.
I mean, I’d been lusting after this older man for months now, purposefully avoiding my boyfriend to spend time with his kid and in his home. Making casual comments that could be viewed as flirting. Maybe this was the Universe paying me back for ill-intended thoughts.
Aspen was still staring at me expectantly as I looked over the dress. “Is it okay? You don’t have to wear it if you hate it, but we are going out tonight.”
I forced a smile, burying my internal ramblings. “It’s perfect, and I’m fine. You’re right, I need to celebrate and have some fun. I’ll shower and shave my legs. It’ll be great.”
Without another word, I headed to the bathroom and started the hot water. Ditching my oversized hoodie and sweatpants, I stepped into the hot water, hopeful the heat would magically wash away any of the negative bullshit I was feeling.
“Are you going to tell me what is going on? Or will I have to wait till you’re plastered?”
Her voice caused a jump as I let out a deep breath. “You’re never going to let me shower in peace, are you?”
I knew she was rolling her eyes. I didn’t even have to see it to know it was happening.
She groaned. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, and I respect that.
However, I also don’t fucking care, Ivy.
You’ve been down since we went to the bar with your sister.
I even went as far as asking Oliver. Do you know how embarrassing that was?
He just shrugged and grunted at me like he does about everything else.
I’m running out of options. Next will be to get you drunk and persuade it out of you with fresh mozzarella sticks. ”
“You asked Oliver?” I wasn’t sure why that was the main part to stick out, but maybe it was because he knew what was wrong with me and chose not to spill.
“Yeah? I mean, you have been seeing him quite a bit lately with Hudson’s stuff. I wasn’t sure if he knew anything.”
“Hmm,” I hummed. “Interesting. Also, the mozzarella stick thing? Cruel. Especially for my best friend.”
“Yeah, well, your best friend is at her wit’s end, Ivy Lydia Tinsley! You tell me everything. Always. No matter how big or how small. What makes this any different?”
I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and started lathering the conditioner in.
“I don’t want you to see me any differently.”
“That’s absurd and you fucking know it. You never saw me any differently when I handed you my entire past on a platter.
Or when I stayed with Rowan, even though he was bat-shit crazy.
Or when I started therapy. Or even when for almost a month I couldn’t sleep with the lights off and had you in my guest room in case I had nightmares and needed Rowan to just not be a dude. ”
I felt myself smiling despite my inner turmoil—a real smile.
Possibly my first real smile since my pizza date with Sunny and Oliver.
I rinsed my hair the rest of the way out and turned off the water.
Wrapping a towel around me, I pulled the curtain open to find her leaning against my bathroom sink, arms crossed over her chest, and she chewed on her bottom lip. The anxiety was clear in her eyes.
“If you can’t talk to me about it yet, fine. But I hate this, Ivy. We’ve never kept anything from each other, and I don’t want to start now. I need you. Always.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on me,” I whispered. “And no, I don’t have proof, and I haven’t confronted him about it, but I’m pretty sure.”
Aspen stared at me before slowly nodding.
“Okay. So. I also got you shoes to go with the dress. They’re silver pumps.
But your cowgirl boots will also match, the sparkly ones of course.
So let me know how you’re feeling. Personally, I vote the heels and then we bring the boots as a backup for when you drink too much and we have to swap them out. ”
She started walking out of the bathroom, rummaging through my closet for my boots. “Oh, and I got you special birthday girl pajamas for the afterparty!”
“That’s it?! You have nothing else to say?” I shouted out to her, and I started towel-drying my hair.
“What the fuck should I say? I want to kill him. I want to string him up in the barn like they did my asshole ex and beat him to death. I want to light his car on fire with him in it. Is that what you want to hear?” She stood in the doorway staring at me, a brow arched as she waited.
“I mean…sorta, yeah.”
She groaned. “Are you going to leave? Confront him? Cut his balls off?”
I turned back to the mirror. “I want to confront him about it first. I just haven’t gotten the courage to do so.” I chose to leave out all the internal conflict I’d been having over my boss. That wasn’t relevant information, and I knew what she’d say. Go ride a cowboy, Ivy.
“Well, I did invite his bitch ass tonight. So you’re welcome,” she grumbled as she walked back into my bedroom and things started moving around once more. “Silver jewelry. Any special items you want?”
“Surprise me, fairy godmother.”
“Fine. I will. You’re about to be the hottest bitch at the ball.”
The lights were bright. Sweat poured down my chest as I spun and spun and spun, a drink in one hand, a tiara on my head, lipstick painted along my lips just the way I liked it.
I felt amazing, and I refused to let anything ruin it.
As the song tapered down, Aspen’s arm slipped around my waist. “Let’s go get refills!” she said against my ear. She slipped her hand into mine and dragged me to the bar, forcing my butt into a chair at the far corner while Damien brought us over waters.
He promised as many drinks as I wanted, but I had to chug water in between every one with liquor. So, all of them. It was my birthday, after all.
“Is he here yet?”
Aspen looked around the bar and shrugged instead of answering me.
“Is that a no? You can say no. Maybe he doesn’t even know what day it is,” I mumbled as I drank a third of my water, the ice sliding through my veins a polar opposite to its counterpart.
She looked over her shoulder at me, the frown and disdain clear as she leaned on the bar-top. She’d had one drink. One. That she sipped slowly. Apparently, Aspen was on Ivy duty.
A set of arms came from nowhere, sliding around me as she squealed in my ear.
“Ivy girl! You’re twenty-three! How does it feel?” Ember asked with a giggle.
Ember had kept up with me perfectly, clearly on the duty of ‘make it less obvious half the party was drinking and half wasn’t’.
“Feels,” I drew out the word as I contemplated how it felt. “Disappointing.”
They both stopped moving and stared at me.
“Where the fuck is my boyfriend? It’s my fucking birthday. Like, the invites I know you sent out make that pretty damn clear. It wasn’t an optional invite for him.”
Ember and Aspen shared a look before Payton stole the seat beside me.
“Your boyfriend just walked in,” she mumbled around the straw from her drink as she waved Damien down for another. “He should really get another bartender. He’s got busboys and shit, but another bartender would be nice for him so he isn’t running around like a chicken with his head cut off.”