Page 24 of Salvation (Clover-Hills #1)
Blake
“ I ’ve officially declared it girls’ night,” Harper announces, grinning as she steps into my doorway with her arms packed full of goodies. “We’ve got alcohol and good food. Time to talk about everyone who’s wronged us.”
Whitney and I laugh, and I just know Vivienne would adore a moment like this.
We spent the night talking about everything under the sun.
We laugh until we’re near tears, and we eat both junk food and takeout until we’re so full we can’t possibly eat another bite.
Harper and I have a few drinks while Whitney sips down mocktails.
They question me on everything about New York City, and Harper, despite only knowing her for a mere five minutes, even gets me to open up about Marshall.
The way she responded has me thinking she can relate to that sort of situation better than anyone else.
Somehow, hours into our night, the conversation takes a turn.
What started as a mention of Ben’s birthday slowly drifts into talk about my“hot”neighbor—Harper and Whitney’s words, not mine.
Before I know it, he’s the center of the conversation.
I’m not as irritated as I usually would be; if anything, I’m grateful.
The distraction dulls the guilt of not visiting Ana or going to Ben’s grave on a day like this.
“You two have history, don’t you?” Harper is the first to prod.
“More than I’d like to admit.” I sip my cocktail. The sweet mix of cherry and pineapple makes it almost too easy to forget just how much rum I had watched Harper pour into it. Dangerous, but delicious.
“Then what’s the deal? You two always seem so tense around each other.”
“Oh, come on." I protest, "That’s not true –"
“Yes, it is.” They say at exactly the same time.
I sigh. “It’s…complicated,” I look at Whitney. “You know it’s complicated.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be?” Whitney asks. “I’m just saying…maybe you guys should try to be friends? I mean, it’s been, what? Years? I’m sure things have changed. You guys aren’t kids anymore.”
Harper nods along, adding, “And unfortunately, in a town this small, we’re all linked in some way. It can get a bit awkward if you two can’t even stand to be in the same room.”
“Or when you look at each other like you want to rip your clothes off.” Whitney mutters, and I gasp, launching one of the marshmallows I was prepared to shove into my mouth at her.
I smirk, opting to give her a taste of her own medicine. “Oh, and what is it you call it when you ogle the other Conway boy-"
She cut me off by launching the marshmallow right back.
We all break out into a fit of giggles, which soon turns into laughter so loud it has us doubling over and fighting off tears.
This night has been fun, the most fun I’ve had in a long time.
Once things dwindled down and we all started yawning, we even promised to make plans for next weekend to do it again, and I find myself rather excited at the idea.
That night though, once I’m tucked in bed and trying to drift off, all I can think about is our earlier conversation.
Maybe you guys should try to be friends.
Maybe they’re right. Regardless of the small town and friends we share, we’re linked through our moms until the end of time. And we are neighbors, after all.