Page 38

CHAPTER 37

Alana

There’s glitter on my floor.

And my cat. And probably in the walls.

Tessa’s crouched in front of the full-length mirror, applying individual rhinestones to her collarbone like a surgeon.

Bottle blonde, clumsy as hell and somehow still the glue holding us all together.

My best friend.

Kyra’s dancing around in her underwear, hair flaming and wild.

She’s the redhead with a temper and a heart made of titanium.

Loyal to the bone. She’ll hype you up and fight your ex in the same night.

Riley, meanwhile, is crouched over her stiletto with actual duct tape, muttering something emotional under her breath.

Classic. She’s a leggy brunette, too soft for her own good and cries every time the credits roll on a Pixar movie.

Together? They’re chaos incarnate.

My girls. My constants.

Beautiful, champagne-soaked brilliance.

I stare at my reflection.

The glitter suit hugs my body like it was stitched to my soul.

No top. No bra. Just skin and sparkle and a ridiculous amount of layered silver chains dripping down my sternum.

My makeup’s full glam.

Sharp liner, glowing cheeks, glossy lips.

I look like I bite.

I don’t look like someone who spent the last two months clawing her way out of the dark.

And maybe that’s the point.

Maybe tonight I get to be the version of myself that never needed saving in the first place.

“You look hot enough to cause a riot,” Tessa says, coming up behind me with a champagne flute in one hand and her phone in the other.

“Let me get a photo before we leave.”

“Just one,” I say.

“And no filters.”

She grins.

“Obviously not. You’re already glowing.”

We pose in the mirror.

Me leaning into Tessa’s shoulder, her arm wrapped around my waist and Kyra photobombs us mid-sip.

“That’s it,” she declares.

“Shots, then our very own personal chauffeur is taking us to the club.”

She lines up four mini glasses on the kitchen counter like an army general.

“To survival, sex appeal and emotionally avoiding men who look like they kill people for sport.”

I narrow my eyes, “Can we not right now?”

Riley giggles and tiptoes over to the hallway.

She leans her ear dramatically against Hunter’s door, eyes wide.

“Shower’s still running,” she stage-whispers, “and I know we’re not supposed to objectify the help, but I swear I heard a growl.”

Tessa groans.

“Stop. I will die.”

They all look at me.

Kyra snorts. “Girl, you are in love with that man. I saw the way you looked at him at brunch. If he offered to ruin your life in a hallway, you’d say thank you.”

“I would not,” I say, lying through my teeth.

Tessa raises her brows.

“Alana, be honest. Has he ever called you his good girl? Because if he has, we need details. And a safe word.” He has.

Twice. It ruined me.

Twice.

“You’re all disgusting,” I say, blushing violently.

“I hate every one of you.”

“Liar,” Kyra grins.

“You’re glowing.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t fight the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

We all down our shots.

It burns beautifully.