Page 6 of Sugar (Gilded #1)

“Like actually packed or mostly packed?”

“Actually.” At the all-knowing stare she gave, I tacked on, “Except for a few things.”

She shook her head. “So you’ll be frantically calling us at midnight tomorrow to help you unload.”

“Or midnight tonight to help me load. Either way.” I shrugged on my lie since that part was done—mostly. “Or both. Why limit ourselves?”

She let out a horrified gasp. “You’re still not loaded? It took me hours to fit everything in The Beast, Mads.”

Contrary to what the intimidating label suggested, she drove a small RAV4. It’d earned the nickname because it was loud when it started.

And when it was cold.

And if she drove too fast.

Or too slow.

As I’d predicated all those years ago, Dina hadn’t let John buy her anything exorbitant. The used vehicle was loaded with safety features and practical frills.

My Jeep was a lot more fun than her SUV, but it didn’t have a ton of room. Getting all my boxes in had taken some maneuvering, but it was done.

Except for those remaining few things.

I waved her away. “It’ll take like ten minutes in the morning. Fifteen tops. And if it takes longer, that’s fine. It’ll give you guys time to get settled into your places before you have to help me unpack.”

She gave a forced apologetic smile. “Oof, sorry. I’m not available. I have to take my fish for a walk.”

“Your fish lives with me.”

“I have to vacuum my front lawn.”

“The building doesn’t have a lawn.”

“My chia pet needs a ride to the airport.”

I rolled my eyes since her nor her poison thumb would be able to grow a chia pet if all the work had been done for her. “What kind of friend are you?”

“The kind who is smart enough to lock my door when you come crying for slacker help.”

We’d been close our entire lives. And unlike a lot of friendships, we’d never had a falling out.

No period where two of us were closer, leaving the third to feel excluded.

No growing apart or cliché jealousy. Not that we didn’t disagree.

We did. But we valued what we had enough to work through it.

We knew that kind of loyal friendship was rare.

And that deep love and appreciation was exactly why the three of us had never—and would never—live together. Because we also knew that we would drive one another insane in less than a month.

Instead, we opted for separate apartments in the same off-campus housing building. Close, but with our own space.

Greer must’ve just caught the tail end of the conversation because she turned in Josh’s hold to gape at me. “You’re not packed?”

I didn’t torture her like I did Wren. Greer would cancel the movie and speed off into the night for my house—a superhero armed with color-coded gadgets.

“I am,” I quickly reassured.

“Mostly,” Wren interjected, very unhelpfully.

At Greer’s exasperated sigh, I crossed my arms. “Not all of us have a love affair with our label maker.”

“I happen to like being able to find things,” she shot back.

“I can find them. Eventually.”

Wren must’ve memorized the schedule because she took the opening to throw me under another bus. “How long did you live out of boxes last year?”

“How long was the first semester?” I asked with an innocent smile.

Greer sputtered her outrage even though I did unpack.

Mostly.

Eventually.

I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “And I can always leave right now to finish packing if that would make you feel better.”

The whole back-and-forth was playful. That I wasn’t fully packed surprised no one. That Greer had her boxes labeled was a safe bet because she’d never met an organizational system she didn’t love.

But at my joking offer to leave our last movie night of the summer, that heaviness that’d been momentarily forgotten pushed in. And not only for me.

Wren pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Much to Josh’s chagrin, Greer dislodged herself from his roaming hold as tears filled her eyes.

There was a somberness to the moment that I wasn’t ready to face.

I cleared the lump in my throat and pointed behind her. “Your compost pile is on fire.”

Greer spun to see it was a lie before smacking my arm. “It’s not a compost pile.”

“It’s all vegetables.”

“It’s healthy.”

“Healthy and pizza do not belong in the same sentence.”

The shadow of impending change hovered over us, but we held it back. Swallowed it down. Ignored the weight of it.

We pretended it was just another night as we pulled the last pizza from the oven.

“Food!” Greer called as she grabbed her compost pizza and fruit-infused water—complete with chunks floating in it.

At twenty-two, we were old enough to drink, but we never did during movie nights. Instead, we went wild by stuffing our faces with junk food—well, except for Greer—while we ignored any and all responsibilities.

Something that felt even more crucial right then.

The only exception was Josh. On the nights he joined us, he usually chugged one of the expensive bourbons that was meant to be sipped—all while Greer actively ignored it.

I was surprised that Doug never said anything after the fact, but other than some special bottles disappearing from the bar, he let it continue.

“We’re coming. We’re coming.” Doug rounded the side of the house. Last I’d seen, he and Easton had been at the back of the yard near the wooden sauna and hot tub. They must’ve walked by at some point, but I hadn’t noticed.

There.

Progress.

I can continue ignoring him—and avoid making a fool of myself—for just a little longer.

Easy-peasy.

It was not, in fact, easy-peasy. It was the opposite of that.

It was stressy-depressy.

The depressy part was just the overall funk we were trying—and failing—to ignore. The OGs weren’t helping with that. Everything seemed to set them off in a chain reaction of tears and memories. The only plus side was that no one had busted out our embarrassing childhood photos.

Yet.

The stressy was because of my luck. In all the seating configurations that could’ve happened, I’d somehow ended up in a chair next to Easton.

Not that I was forced into awkward, stilted conversation.

His focus was split between fielding Doug’s small talk and the movie.

I kept my gaze solely aimed to the front because I didn’t want to look at him or where Greer and Josh were getting handsy on the other side of me.

But I was still keenly aware that he was sitting close.

Every so often, he would reach between our chairs, and for a wild moment, I would think he was about to graze my leg. My breath would catch, and my body would tense in anticipation. But he would just grab his water because it was all in my head.

What wasn’t in my head was when he answered a question in that low, gravelly voice. Not only was it appealing, but everything he said was interesting. I wanted to ask him more, but I also didn’t want to be the silly little girl who eavesdropped and inserted herself into a conversation.

I needed to stop being stupid.

I needed to get a hold of myself.

And I needed to get away from him.

The last part ended up being the easiest when Greer bolted up suddenly.

“Pause, please.” Her dad hadn’t even grabbed the remote to do as requested before she came over to yank me out of my chair.

She continued talking as she started for the door, still dragging me along as Wren followed behind.

“We’re changing into our suits so we can watch the rest of the movie in the pool.

Refresh your drinks. Grab your snacks. Tip your waitresses. ”

Since my arm was still in her tight hold, I hustled to keep her clipped pace as she stormed through the house. I glanced over my shoulder at Wren, but she just shrugged.

Once we were locked in her room, Greer let out a muffled scream. “He’s ruining everything .”

Brows lowered, I ventured a guess since only two people were out of place in our usual routine. “Your dad?”

“No, not him. I’m actually glad he’s here tonight. And not just for the accompanying eye candy. I’m talking about Josh. He’s ruining everything.”

“Why?” Wren asked.

Greer talked as we hurriedly changed into our swimsuits. “I told him that it was fine for him to come over, but I specifically said I wanted to spend time with you guys. I reiterated it. I said it again when he got here. He agreed. Now he’s being all… Josh about it.”

Guilt swirled in my chest. I hadn’t realized she wasn’t a willing participant in his groping since I’d been ignoring the two of them.

A matching horrified expression was mirrored on Wren’s face. “I thought you were… you know… into it.”

“I am. Kind of. Or I was. But then he started whining that I’ll get to see you both all the time, so I should be focused on him.

I was trying to find a compromise, but my parents are here.

You guys are here. That’s already not the time to be getting sexy, but especially tonight.

I’m emotional, and he’s not listening.” She adjusted her bathing suit—a strategically chosen one-piece and not the bikini she usually wore—and her tone grew more guarded. “He’s been so weird lately.”

Not that what he was doing was excusable, but I pointed out, “You did break up with him. It kind of leaves things in a weird spot.”

She peeked at Wren and me before quickly looking away. “It started before that.”

“How?”

She shrugged.

My mouth turned down in a concerned frown, and I pushed. “ How ?”

“I think it’s just because we’re officially at different places in life now. He graduated. He has new friends. And I’m just wanting to enjoy a movie night with my girls.”

“Tell him you’re on your period,” Wren suggested.

I expected Greer to reject the idea since Josh wouldn’t just back off. He would leave.

But things must’ve been worse than she was letting on because she immediately grabbed her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen. “Done.”

I hesitated, wondering if I should question her further.

They’re already broken up, and we leave tomorrow. There’s no reason to ruin the night that she’s trying hard to salvage.

I pressed my lips together but shared a look with Wren to silently communicate as only best friends could. If Josh didn’t cut out early—and that was a big if —we would run interference.

We made our way down the stairs and were in the corridor when we heard the front door close.

Well, that was fast.

Contrary to my assumption, it wasn’t Josh who’d made a hasty exit. He stood in the kitchen, talking to Doug. It didn’t look like a tense conversation, but at our approach, their gazes shot our way.

Greer eyed them suspiciously. “What’re you two up to?”

Doug gave the charming smile he used on his patients. “Who us? Nothing at all.”

“Riiiight,” she drawled.

“Easton had to take off, so I’m going to get out of your way, too.” He pursed his lips as he flexed in different bodybuilder poses. “Don’t want all my machismo throwing off your last girls’ night.”

There was a there-then-gone flash of disappointment on Greer’s face before she hid it with an eye roll. I wasn’t sure if she was upset she’d missed one last glimpse of the hottie or that her dad was ditching out.

I knew which one I was bummed about.

“And I’ve gotta run, too.” Josh shook his phone. “Dean’s having car trouble, and its surge pricing for a rideshare. I’m sorry, babe.”

I had no clue if his excuse was real or a fabrication to get away from Greer’s definitely fabricated period, but it didn’t seem to matter to her. There wasn’t even that brief flash of disappointment on her face.

Not at first, anyway.

The pout that curved her bottom lip was nothing but bullshit—not that Josh or Doug knew it.

“Babe,” her not-boyfriend started.

Doug chuckled as he backed away toward his office. “You’re on your own.”

Wren and I busied ourselves grabbing snacks as Greer and Josh said a goodbye that was missing the heartache their separation should’ve called for.

Maybe it was because Coastal wasn’t that far away, and they knew they could see each other all the time.

Or maybe their relationship really was more finished than it’d seemed.

Wren quietly echoed my thoughts as Greer walked him to the door. “I didn’t really buy that they were broken up before, but now?”

“I know,” I whispered back. “She seems just… whatever about it.”

“Yup.”

Even once Greer returned, her cheeks were damp with tears, but she wasn’t in danger of falling apart.

“Okay, spill,” Wren pushed.

“Nope.” She took a shuddering breath, but her smile was genuine. At peace. “It’s movie time, and I call dibs on the circle float.”

“But that’s the best one,” Wren cried, though there was no fire in her whining.

Not that she was wrong. The circle float offered ample space and a cup holder, while the others were long loungers that were prone to tipping with any sudden movement.

She was only putting up the fight to offer Greer a distraction.

One our friend didn’t seem to need.

Oh, she’s definitely donezo with a capital done .

She helped us gather the snacks and started for the backdoor before pausing at the end of the island.

“What?” I asked before I glanced down to see what she was looking at.

A business card.

Or rather three matching ones.

All for Easton Wells, attorney at unlawful levels of attractiveness.

Wren ran her finger across the raised text. “I’ve got to hand it to him, it’s a striking design. It screams that what he lacks in a soul, he makes up for in good taste and money.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Matte gray with black embossing, they were as sexy and sophisticated as the man himself.

“But why’d he leave three?” she asked.

“Maybe he thought we should each have one in case we decide to go on any crime sprees,” Greer said.

With a graceful fart noise, Wren grabbed the one she’d been touching and crumpled it, tossing it into the sink where it would be destroyed by the disposal. Greer flicked the others before turning away, not caring where they landed.

My friends continued walking toward the door as they talked about how desperate Easton must be to land Doug as a client.

I silently followed.

After I discreetly snagged a card.

Just in case a life of crime calls to me…