I’m about to pull her into a hug when knocks rattle the front door. Lacey immediately dabs her eyes dry with the back of her hand, rising to her feet. I’m surprised she can even stand considering her blood is ninety-eight percent vodka.
“She’s here.” She chokes on a sob that’s half-sad, half-happy and stumbles over to the door. Looks like I’ll get to meet her oldest friend, after all. Lacey swings the door open, revealing one of the most gorgeous girls I’ve ever seen.
I’m not exaggerating.
Lacey’s friend has long, straight black hair, porcelain-white skin, and eyes so blue I can see them from here. She’s wearing a black leather top, and her right arm is covered in rose tattoos. A cute lip ring accentuates her cherry-red lips, the unshakable confidence radiating off her making her just as intimidating as she is stunning.
“I can’t believe you made it.” Lacey squeezes her into an embrace so tight her friend taps her shoulder to let her know she’s suffocating her.
“I wouldn’t have missed your birthday for the world, Lace.” She laughs, reciprocating Lacey’s enthusiasm.
They pull away a few seconds later.
“Happy birthday, rich girl,” Lacey’s friend teases, and I assume this has to do with some inside joke.
Lacey chuckles, grabbing the girl’s wrist. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Lacey and her friend stand in front of us seconds later.
“This is Astrid, Hadley, and Dia.” Lacey makes quick work of telling her our names. Her friend makes eye contact with everyone, offering them polite smiles…
Until her gaze stops on me.
And her smile slips off her face.
She doesn’t speak for a few seconds.
“Tell them your name, dummy,” Lacey chuckles, nudging her with her elbow. Then, without tearing her eyes away from me, she says,
“Hi, I’m Remy.”