“Sounds good.” I hang up to find Allie in distress. “What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t bring anything clubby to wear.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Can we stop in Brooklyn first so I can change, or is that too much of a hassle?”
“No need,” I say, tugging her off the bed. “You can borrow something from my sister. You’re about Summer’s size.”
“Are you sure she won’t mind?” Allie frets as I usher her across the hall into my sister’s room. “Some girls get super touchy about lending out their clothes.”
“Trust me, she won’t care.”
Allie’s face fills with astonishment when we enter Summer’s closet. And by closet, I mean the cavernous room that’s almost the size of Allie’s brownstone.
“How is this a closet?” Allie exclaims. She moves forward and squeals. “Oh my God. She’s got an entire wall of shoes. Now I want to punch your sister.”
I chuckle. “I wouldn’t try it. Summer plays by schoolyard rules. She’ll claw your eyes and rip your hair out.”
Allie examines another rack overflowing with hangers. “If I check any of these tags, am I going to see words like ‘Prada’ and ‘Kors’ and ‘Lagerfeld’?”
“Yup.”
“Then please direct me to the cheap section so your sister doesn’t kill me if I spill something on her precious Versace.”
“Babe, you really need to trust me when I say she won’t mind. Or notice, for that matter. Summer left all this stuff behind when she went to Brown,” I remind Allie. “Not to mention all the clothes in her closet in Connecticut. Just pick whatever you’d like.”
“Okay then. Well, since I probably won’t get the chance to wear a Valentino dress ever again—at least not until he custom designs my dress for the Oscars—” That gets another laugh from me “—I pick this one.” She holds up a black lace minidress with a gaping neckline, then glances at the shoe wall. “And I’ll pair it with…oooh, are those Jimmy Choos?”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” I announce. “Come find me when you’re ready.”
I leave Allie to fawn over Summer’s closet, and go to my own room to get dressed. Which takes all of five minutes. I throw on a gray sweater and the same trousers I wore last night, then lie on my bed watching YouTube videos on my phone while I wait for Allie. Somewhere at the twenty-minute mark, she pops into the room in a blur of designer black, grabs a small makeup kit from her purse, and disappears into my bathroom.
“Oh hey!” she calls a few minutes later. Her head pokes out from behind the doorway. “My friend Dillon just texted. She got in last night and she wants to meet up. Her boyfriend’s here too. Can I invite them to the club?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
My phone buzzes, and I shut off YouTube so I can access my messages.
Logan: Just found the perfect xmas present for you in Boston.
A photo promptly appears, summoning a loud groan from my throat. The asshole sent me a pic of a novelty My Little Pony dildo. Damn thing is bright pink, with rainbow sparkles on the handle.
Logan: And it’s rechargeable! U don’t have to buy batteries. THAT’S handy!
Me: Hardy-har-har. You = comedian.
Then I message Grace: Tell your BF to stop being mean to me.
She texts back a smiley face. Traitor.
“I’m ready.”
My head snaps up, and holy hell, I forget how to breathe for a moment. Man, she should consider ditching acting and becoming a makeup artist, because this girl has the ability to completely transform depending on what she does to her face. Just when I got used to thinking of her as the girl-next-door type, with her subtle makeup and shiny lip glosses, she suddenly showed up at Malone’s looking like a wet dream come to life, with big smoky eyes and pouty crimson lips.
Tonight it’s a combination of the two—natural with a splash of glamour. Nude lips, shimmery gold eye shadow, and mascara that makes her lashes appear impossibly long.
“How do I look?” She plants a hand on her hip and does a sexy pose.
“Ridiculously fuckable.” I hop off the bed and zero in on her, drawing her body toward mine as I bend down to give her a quick kiss. Her scent fills my nostrils. I breathe deeply, trying to identify it. Strawberries? Mangos? Roses? I can’t figure it out, but it’s goddamn addictive.
“What is it?”
I’m startled to find her frowning at me. “What do you mean?”
Her frown deepens. “You were staring at me.”
I was? Shit, I hadn’t even realized it. “Sorry, I must have spaced out.” I paste on a careless smile, doing my best to ignore the weird flutter in my stomach.
And the funny little shiver racing up my spine.
And the way my chest somehow feels both tight and light at the same time, which is as perplexing as Allie’s unnamable scent.
Swallowing, I force myself to ignore the paradox in my chest, and follow Allie’s sexy ass out the door.
23
Allie