Page 7 of Blind Bite (Best Fangs Forever #1)

Chapter Seven

“We’re going out tomorrow night,” Amelie’s declaration had cut through my pity party.

“No,” I buried my face deeper into the couch cushions. “I’m retiring from life. Me and Mysti are going to become hermits.”

“Perfect. You can practice being a hermit next week.” She yanked the pillow from my face. “I already texted Lacey. She’s in.”

“Traitor.” But my lips twitched at the thought of our pint-sized friend. Lacey’s brutal honesty was exactly what I needed—or dreaded. I hadn't decided yet.

“Come on, Lil. When’s the last time we had a proper girls’ night?”

“Last month when—”

“Nope. Watching true crime documentaries in our pajamas doesn’t count.”

I pushed myself up, giving her my best death glare. “It totally counts.”

“It really doesn’t.” Amelie flopped beside me. “Look, you need this. We’ll dress up, drink overpriced cocktails, dance until our feet hurt—”

“And fall into an Uber at 2 AM wondering why we thought this was a good idea?”

“Exactly!” She squeezed my arm. “Come on, let’s get your sparkle back.”

“My what now?”

“Your sparkle! Your glow, your—” she waved her hands in the air like she was conducting an invisible orchestra. “Your Lilith-ness.”

“I’m pretty sure my Lilith-ness is still intact.”

“Nope. That jerk dimmed it. But tomorrow?” Her grin turned wicked. “We’re cranking up your brightness to blinding.”

I groaned, but warmth spread through my chest. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.” She bounced off the couch. “Now, what are you wearing?”

“Clothes?”

“Oh honey,” Amelie shook her head. “We have so much work to do.”

“That dress makes your butt look amazing.” Girls’ night was upon us and Amelie circled me like a fashion-obsessed shark. “Your violet hair with that black dress? Chef’s kiss.”

I tugged at the hem, wondering if it was too short. “Are you sure—”

“Touch that dress one more time and I’ll staple it to your thighs.” Lacey appeared in my doorway, her copper hair styled in loose waves. She’d traded her usual tech-geek aesthetic for an emerald green number that made her hazel eyes pop.

“Threats of bodily harm already?” I checked my phone. “It’s only eight.”

“I’m efficient.” Lacey dropped her clutch on my bed. “Now, pre-game shots, or are we heading straight out?”

“Pre-game!” Amelie dashed to the kitchen, returning with our good tequila and three shot glasses. “To not needing a man and being badass bitches that will run the world!”

“And to looking hot while doing it,” Lacey raised her glass.

The tequila burned going down, but heated my chest with the liquid courage I desperately needed. Three shots later, we piled into our Uber, the city lights blurring past as we headed downtown.

“First stop, The Velvet Room,” Amelie announced, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I heard they got a new DJ.”

“And new security,” Lacey wiggled her eyebrows. “The bouncer’s supposedly a total snack.”

“You don’t have to tell Amelie that,” I ducked as my best friend tried to smack me. Lacey took the brunt of the hit instead, erupting into a fit of giggles.

The car pulled up to the curb, bass from the club already vibrating through the sidewalk. A line stretched around the corner, but Amelie marched straight to the front, waving at the mountain of muscle checking IDs.

“Marcus! Long time no see.”

The bouncer’s stern expression cracked into a grin. “Amie! Brought some friends?”

“My girls need a proper night out,” she gestured to us. “Think you can help?”

“For you? Always,” he unclipped the velvet rope. “Have fun, ladies.”

Inside, the music pulsed through my bones, and the lights painted the crowd in electric blues and purples. Lacey grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the bar. As my hands touched the smooth wooden surface, two shadows loomed overhead.

“Hey there ladies, can we buy you a round?” Tan skin and the most beautiful green eyes met mine as Hottie One flashed a smile. His buddy, a blonde with a man bun, was already flirted with Amelie on my other side.

“We’re good. Ask us later after a dance?” Lacey had a gift of getting rid of people fast. Maybe it was part of that brutal honesty. You could see it in her face that she was always ready to tear someone down if they didn’t leave her alone.

Hottie One and Hottie Two nodded with charming smiles and sauntered off with a “catch ya later”. Once they were out of earshot, Amelie turned back to us.

“First round’s on me,” she shouted over the music. “And Lil? Tonight, we’re not taking prisoners.”

The bass thumped through my chest as I nursed my second—or maybe third—cocktail. The sweet burn of alcohol couldn’t quite drown out Beckett’s ghost, haunting my thoughts.

“Earth to Lilith,” Lacey waved her hand in front of my face. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“That face,” she pointed at me with her straw.

“The one where you’re wondering what’s wrong with you.

I’m sorry I set you up with such a dud. I honestly thought you two would hit it off, but you can’t let that stupid frat boy live rent free in your head.

He’s missing out big time. You’re a total package, and he’s too dumb to see that. ”

“Isn’t he in your Cyber Sec class? The one where you have to be super smart to get into?”

Lacey dismissed my comment with a flick of her wrist. “Even smart people can be dumb as hell, Lilith. Your IQ is just a number and can only go so far.”

Amelie slid another neon-colored drink my way. “Exactly. He could be the next Einstein, but he’s the dumbest person in existence for passing you up.”

“Then why do they keep leaving?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, carried on a wave of tequila and vulnerability.

“Because they’re idiots,” Lacey’s voice could barely be heard over the music. “And because the right one hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Right,” I traced the condensation on my glass. “Meanwhile, everyone else gets their happily ever after.”

“Oh, please,” Amelie rolled her eyes. “You think those couples all over campus are perfect? Every relationship has their ups and downs.”

“Plus, it’s not like we’re in relationships, either. We can all be single girlies together forever.” Lacey pushed another shot toward me. “Here, this is your ‘I’m a badass artist who doesn’t need validation from mediocre men’ shot.”

“That’s a very specific shot,” I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m a very specific friend,” she clinked her glass against mine. “Now drink up. We’re going dancing.”

The alcohol buzzed through my system, warm and fuzzy, as my friends dragged me toward the dance floor. Maybe they were right. Maybe I needed to stop measuring my worth by who stayed and who left.