“Holy crap, I can’t believe you just did that,” I muttered as we reached the corner of the street.

“Yeah, me, either,” she replied, pressing her hand to her forehead. “That was so unlike me. I’m blaming it on the alcohol and my ex, the bastard. He’s got my head all messed up.”

“It was kind of funny.” I grinned as I replayed the look on his face when she slapped his ass.

She lowered her hand from her face. “The look on his face was priceless.”

“And at least you made an impression. He probably gets hit on all the time, but he’ll never forget the crazy girl who threw her drink on him and slapped his ass really, really hard.”

“Was it that hard?”

“I think the whole bar heard it.”

She shrugged. “I think he clenched, though, so maybe that softened the blow.”

We traded a look and then busted up laughing so hard I peed my pants a little bit.

After that, we became best friends. And, oddly enough, Sophie ran into Pretty Blue Eyes, whose real name is Flynn, a few months later, and the two have been dating ever since.

When I step outside and see that it’s raining again, I backtrack to Miss Finikey’s apartment to beg her to let me borrow her car.

I knock three or four times before the door swings open.

Miss Finikey leans against the doorjamb with her arms crossed. “What do you want?” she asks me, tying up her silk robe.

My eyes start to water from the smoke in the air and the strobe light flashing inside her living room. “I, um …” I trail off at the sight of Mr. Welford standing naked in the living room, holding a pillow over his man parts. On the television, a woman wearing a leotard and leg warmers is doing squats and counting backwards from ten.

“Hey, Lexi.” Mr. Welford waves to me. “We were just, um … exercising.” He gestures at the television as if that explains everything.

“Oh, sounds … fun.” I tear my attention away from the scene and focus on Miss Finikey and nothing else. Nothing else at all. “Can I borrow your car?”

“Did that piece of shit of yours finally break down?” she asks with a snarky grin on her face.

Sighing, I nod. “And it’s raining, so I’d really appreciate the favor.”

I expect more of an argument from her, but she must be eager to get back to “exercising” because she grabs the keys from the table and tosses them to me.

“I’ll probably be busy when you get back, so leave the keys under the mat,” she says before slamming the door in my face.

Shoving what I just saw way, way into the back of my mind where I can never replay it again, I hurry out to her car. Surprisingly, I don’t run into any problems during the drive to Sophie’s, and the radio even plays my jam.

By the time I’m knocking on her door, I think maybe my luck has changed.

When Sophie throws the door open, she lets out an ear-splitting squeal. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She claps her hands together and jumps up and down.

I jump up and down with her. “Me, too!”

We jump up and down, holding hands and celebrating that I’m here.

“Wait? Why are you so excited?” She stops jumping and her brows knit.

I shrug. “That I’m here?”

She motions for me to get inside then shuts the door. “I have exciting news.” Her voice gets all I-just-sucked-helium-from-a-balloon kind of high.

I clap my hands together, so excited for her even if I have no clue why. “What is it? Did you get another promotion? Or that new bedroom set you’ve been wanting for forever? Oh, wait, did you finally try a blueberry muffin from Tamy’s Fantastic Bakery?” The last one’s a joke, but the blueberry muffins there are amazing.

“A blueberry muffin? Really, Lexi?” She shakes her head and makes that disappointed face she always does whenever I’ve said something she thinks is ridiculous. “Like I would be this excited over a muffin.”

I put my hands on my hips and give her a teasingly stern look. “Clearly, you haven’t tasted her muffins.”

“Who’s tasting whose muffin?” Flynn strolls out of the bathroom, grinning and dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist.

This is the second time I’ve seen a nearly naked man tonight, but this time, it doesn’t make me want to jab my eyeballs out with my fingers.

I take a moment to discreetly check him out. Yeah, I know he’s my best friend’s boyfriend, but this is the closest I’ve gotten to a shirtless man in a year unless you want to count the cutey with all the tattoos in the gym that I gawk at every day on my way to work. I actually put a stop to walking by that place a couple of months ago after an embarrassing window-licking incident.

“No one’s eating anyone’s muffins,” Sophie dismisses him. “Lexi just thinks she’s funny.”

“Lexi is funny”—he winks at her—“especially when she’s trying to talk you into eating muffins.”

Sophie rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch into a smile. “Anyway, I was just about to tell Lexi the good news.”

“Yes, you were.” I motion for her to get a move on. “So hurry up already and tell me before I decide to go get some excitement from a muffin.”

Shaking his head, Flynn chuckles as he walks into the bedroom.

I grin at a frowning Sophie. “Well, at least he thinks I’m funny.”

She sighs, but then a smile lights up her face as she sticks out her hand. “Flynn just proposed, and I said yes!” She waggles her fingers, causing the huge-ass diamond to shimmer. “We’re engaged!”

“Holy shit!” I throw my arms around her and hug her tightly. “I’m so happy for you!”

I tell myself not to cry, but tears start to stream down my face. Sophie, who’s not a crier at all, calls me a baby, but then she ends up crying, too. She laughs through her tears, completely happy as she babbles on about their wedding plans, how they’re getting a bigger place just outside of the city, and how she wants me to be her Maid of Honor.

I’m so happy for her. I really am. But deep down, some of my tears are coming from the fact that reality is crashing down on me. I’m so screwed. I know I am.

Not only does it feel like I’m losing my best friend, but if I don’t get a job that will pay the bills soon, I’m going to have to return to the place I ran away from almost eight years ago, even though I swore I’d never go back.

Chapter 4

Two weeks later, the inevitable happens. After getting a job at a fast food place, along with a second job at a grocery store, I still can’t make rent, and my bank account is still being looked into. I have no choice but to call my parents and tell them I’m coming home for a bit. Then, with a heavy heart, I pack up my stuff.

“Good-bye, sink. Good-bye, floor. Good-bye, couch. You were an ugly, little bastard, but I’ll miss all the drunken talks we had. You were such a great listener.” I pat the couch and step back to give a pageant wave to my apartment, opting to keep the humor going; otherwise, I’m going to lose my shit. “Good-bye, all.”

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Sophie says as she checks around for any remaining boxes.

Since most of the furniture came with the place, there isn’t a whole lot, just enough boxes and bags to fill up the trunk, the backseat, and the passenger side of my car. It makes me sad that I don’t own much of anything.

Mental note to self: When I get my life back on track, start buying my own furniture.

“You know me.” I let my hand fall to my side. “I’d rather laugh until my problems become so much I have a meltdown. Remember the summer of 2014?”

She shudders as she moves up beside me. “How could I forget?”

How could anyone forget the summer of 2014? I had found out my then boyfriend, whom I thought I was in love with, was cheating on me. I pretended not to care for almost two months straight, but then, around July, all shit hit the roof after I spotted him one day in a café drinking coffee with the woman he cheated on me with. She was pretty, too: tall, curvy, with perfect hair and flawless skin.