Page 51 of Tangled Desires

I sigh heavily, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, right. Easy for you to say. You’re not staring at a pile of clothes that hate you.”

Isla laughs. “Oh, please. I’ve been there—story of my life, even before Callie. Now, stop whining and get dressed. You’re going out, and that’s final.”

“Fine! But if this night’s a disaster, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“Deal. Now, what about that black top you love?” Her suggestion carries that tone of authority she always has when she’s right. My eyes dart to the chair where the top hangs, mocking me.

“Yeah, the one I wear with jeans—if I could squeeze into them!”

“What about one of those bubble skirts? The stretchy ones?” Isla’s voice is smug, like she already knows the answer. “You could wear it low on your hips. You’ve rocked a midriff before.”

I hesitate, biting my lip. She’s got a point. “Maybe.”

“There you go. It’ll work, trust me!” I let out a reluctant laugh, shaking my head.

“Alright, fine.”

“Yay! You’ll look hot, regardless!”

The karaoke bar hums with life, neon lights rippling pink and purple against the walls. The glow reflects off shiny tabletops, while old-school pop posters crowd every inch of the space.

Streamers droop lazily from the ceiling, caught in the overhead fans, shimmering like trapped confetti. Laughter rises above the thrum of chatter, mingling with the off-key wail of someone belting out a classic. It’s loud, with laughter and off-key singing filling the place, exactly the kind of chaos I needtonight. Harrison picked me up and by the time we reached the bar, Michael was already there, straddling his bike in the parking lot. Amelia’s perched at a table with Bradley, her fingers curling around a drink as she smiles softly. Bradley hovers close, his eyes darting around the room. Xav stands behind Isla, his arm resting snug around her waist, her focus pinned to the stage.

Olivia, meanwhile, is practically bouncing in place, her energy spilling over as she talks a mile a minute to anyone who’ll listen.

“So, who’s first?” Bradley drawls, leaning back, his eyes flicking to Amelia.

“Oh, no,” she says, laughing while giving him a light shove. “Not until you go!”

“Only if Michael joins me. We’ll be the star duo.”

Michael nearly spits out his drink. “Absolutely not, mate. You couldn’t pay me enough.”

I take it all in, scanning the bar to see if anyone I know is here. It’s Wattle Creek, so it’s a given there’ll be familiar faces. I spot Mrs. Sanders, the boutique owner from across the salon, sipping on a margarita. Not that I care who’s here, but Wattle Creek isn’t exactly overflowing with anonymity.

Isla tugs at my arm, pulling me toward the stage. “Let’s go, Midge, time to show ‘em how it’s done!”

I hold up a hand. “Not without a drink first.” Right on cue, a waiter pops up. “Coke, full sugar, lemon wedge.”

Isla adds her order, “Long Island Iced Tea.”

I arch a brow, smirking. “Starting strong, are we?”

She laughs, shrugging like it’s nothing. “Hey, I couldn’t enjoy a good drink for a while.” I bite back a grin. I’d love to say I want to join her, but honestly? I don’t even miss drinking right now. We squeeze into the booth, and my heart’s racing, more from excitement than anything else. It’s been ages since we’ve properly gone out like this. The guys crowd around a bar tablenearby, voices loud as they argue over who’d be the worst singer—Michael’s losing that one, and everyone knows it.

“How’s our pregnant superstar?” Isla asks. “You know… with everything?”

“Yeah, any fun new symptoms?” Liv says, throwing a thumb toward Isla. “I used to bother her about it all the time, so be prepared.”

I let out a dramatic sigh. “Just a rash that won’t go away and hormones that make everything either hilarious or tragic. And I’ve been so insanely horny. Is that normal?”

Isla laughs so hard she snorts. “Oh, absolutely. Xav and I were animals at this stage—like, couldn’t keep our hands off each other. It was like... every five minutes, anywhere, anytime. I swear, the supermarket wasn’t even safe.”

Olivia winces, hands flying to her ears. “God, no! No visuals, thanks!” The table erupts in laughter.

“See? Totally normal, Midge,” Isla says, taking a sip of her drink. “I still can’t believe this is all happening.”

Olivia crosses her arms, grinning. “Honestly, I saw this coming. You and Harrison? Obvious.”