“I’m here! I’m here!” Stella rushed through the door, her
hair flying around her in a dark cloud. “What did I miss?”
I pinned the brunette across from me with an exasperated glare. “Ava.”
“It wasn’t my fault.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “Stel asked what we were doing, I told her, and…well, I might’ve spilled the beans.”
We’d been drinking at a bar near her apartment for two hours, during which she grilled me about my feelings toward Josh, our relationship, and our plans for the future. She was mostly joking, I think, but that didn’t stop me from sweating like I just finished the New York Marathon.
“Nothing except an interrogation worthy of the CIA.” I finished the rest of my cranberry vodka while Stella slid into the seat next to mine.
She must’ve come straight from work, but instead of a boring business suit, she wore a gorgeous white linen dress and turquoise necklace that set off her bronze skin. The perks of working at a fashion magazine, I supposed.
“I highly doubt that.” Stella brushed a stray curl out of her eye. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. All this time, you’ve been dating Josh? He’s the Mystery Guy?”
Heat rushed over my face. “Can you blame me? Look at the way you’re reacting. Personally, I don’t think it’s that
big a deal.” So what if Josh and I had hated each other for almost the entire time Stella knew us? People changed. “It’s not like I’m dating the Pope.”
“You dating the Pope would be more believable,” Stella quipped.
“Funny. You’re all hilarious.” Despite my grumbles, my cheeks ached from smiling.
For all their good-natured teasing, my friends seemed genuinely happy for me—well, after Ava recovered from her initial shock—and now that Josh and I were out in the open, a huge weight had lifted off my shoulders.
There was a certain thrill to sneaking around, but I hated lying to my friends.
“At least you didn’t tell Bridget yet.” I knocked my foot against Ava’s foot under the table. I didn’t need to be accosted by all my friends at once.
Her cheeks pinked. “Erm, about that…”
As if on cue, my phone lit up with an incoming FaceTime call from a certain European royal.
“Ava.”
“I can’t just keep this to myself. I’m never the one to get the first scoop!” Jules raised her hands in mock surrender. “Plus, Bridge was in the group chat.”
I sighed, realizing it was too late to take the news back. I answered the call.
Bridget’s face appeared on the screen. “You’re dating Josh Chen?” she asked, diving straight in. “What? How? Why?”
“Hello, Your Majesty. Good evening to you too,” I replied, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. “How are you?”
“Don’t ‘how are you’ me.” Bridget pushed her green headband up her forehead. She looked like she had just settled in for the night, her makeup gone and a glimpse of her silk pajama top peeking from the bottom of the screen. “Spill the details! I miss all the good stuff from over here in Europe.”
“Don’t you have royal duties or something?”
“It’s midnight, Jules. My royal duties involve dealing with ministers who act like children. Let me have some fun!” A deep voice rumbled offscreen, and Bridget leaned to whisper something back before turning to me again. “Rhys says hi.”
She angled the camera so I could see Rhys, who waved from beside her in bed, his gray eyes sparkling with amusement.
I let out another sigh and recounted the whole story, starting with the truce at the clinic. When I finished, Bridget and Stella stared at me, mouths agape.
“Wow. That’s…” Bridget shook her head, trying to process it. I had propped my phone against a glass so we could all see her. “Somehow, you and Josh together make zero sense and all the sense in the world.”
“Does this mean you guys have stopped bickering?” Stella asked with a hopeful expression.
“Nope. We bicker more,” I said cheerfully. “It leads to great ha—” Hate sex. I cut off abruptly when Ava’s eyes widened with alarm. “You know.”
Stella wrinkled her nose. “I don’t, and I don’t want to know. I’ll never be able to look at Josh the same.”
“You will one day.” Stella didn’t date much, but it wasn’t for lack of interest from guys—she fielded suitors every day. Romance simply wasn’t a priority. “Enough about me. What about you?”
“What about me?” Wariness touched her features.
“You’re the last woman left standing.” Mischief lit up my face. “Who’s going to be the guy who sweeps you off your feet?”
“When you find him, let me know,” she said dryly. “In the meantime, I’m just trying to survive Anya.”
Anya was her boss and the editor-in-chief of D.C. Style
magazine.
While Stella told us about her latest photoshoot, which apparently involved a hungover supermodel, a live python, and a gallon of baby oil, a familiar photo drew my attention to the TV hanging over the bar.
Shock stole my breath from my lungs. Brown hair, blue eyes, stubbled jaw, unsmiling face.
Max.
The volume was off, but the closed captions were on, so I could read what happened.
“…body was found in a hotel room in Baltimore. The victim, Max Renner, was stabbed multiple times and died at the scene. Renner was recently released from prison for grand larceny and is believed to be involved in an Ohio- based crime ring. Police suspect other members of the crime ring are responsible for his murder, and the FBI…”
Max was dead.
All those years, all that heartache, he was dead. I guess his associates finally caught up with him.
Other than a trickle of relief, I felt…nothing. Not even vindication after what he did in the stairwell.
I’d truly put him in the past.
I dragged my attention back to my friends in time to see Stella’s face pale at something on her phone while Ava and Bridget chatted about Bridget’s upcoming diplomatic trip to Argentina.
A seed of concern sprouted in my chest. “Is everything okay?” Stella rarely looked that rattled.
“Yes.” She slid her phone into her bag and smiled, but it looked more forced than usual. “Something came up at work, but I’ll deal with it later.”
“You should find a job that treats you better,” I said gently. “You’re talented enough. You can even go full-time with your blog.”
Stella made a ton of money from brand sponsorships. “Maybe one day.”
I took the hint from her subdued response and dropped the issue, though my concern remained. Stella kept all her feelings and troubles bottled up. It wasn’t healthy in the long run, but now wasn’t the time to get into it.
We rejoined Bridget and Ava’s conversation and eventually shifted topics to Ava’s promotion at work. It was past midnight in Eldorra, but Bridget stayed up with us to talk.
My chest glowed with warmth.
It felt like old times, when we would order pizza and talk into the early hours of the morning in our dorm room.
We weren’t eighteen anymore, but we were still us. Even if one of us lived on a different continent now, and we didn’t see each other as much as we used to at school, our friendship was a steady rock.
It was comforting to know that no matter how much some things changed, others will always stay the same.
