She arched a blond brow. “Okay. First thing you need to do is stop lying to yourself. Just admit that you’ve been in love with him for ages. There’s nothing wrong with that.” When I opened my mouth, she raised a hand. “Secondly, fuck him. Not literally, unless he comes around, but like I said, if he doesn’t get over this, it’s on him, not you.”

Nodding, I tucked my hair back behind my ears as I slipped off the desk. I got what she was saying.

“Calla and Teresa are coming up next weekend. The four of us need to get together and get shitfaced,” she announced, rising from the couch like a goddess who was summoned. “Like, we need to get stupid drunk, talk about how stupid boys are, and then wake up wishing we never see another bottle of liquor.”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Like as drunk as the night before Calla left us,” she continued, and I cringed, knowing where she was heading with this. “Remember? You were convinced that one of those plastic closet organizers could hold your weight?”

“It did hold my weight,” I said crossly.

She threw her head back and hooted with laughter. “Yeah, for like thirty seconds. You shoved yourself in that damn thing, with your legs touching your chest.”

“You zipped me up!”

“And that thing broke and I thought you broke your ass.”

I thought I broke my ass. So did Calla and Teresa, which reminded me of how grateful I was that I hadn’t broken anything, because none of the girls could stop laughing long enough to make sure I was even alive.

Fucking tequila.

Katie bounced forward and hugged me, squeezing me so tight I thought I’d pop. “It’ll be okay. He’s going to come around.”

I hugged her back. “You think this or are your superpowers telling you this?”

She giggled as she pulled away. “Call it feminine intuition.”

I cocked a brow. “Really?”

“Yep.” Katie flounced to the door. “I’ve got to go drop it like it’s hot, and yes, this is hot.” Smacking her ass, she laughed. “Peace out, homie homes.”

A smile pulled at my lips. Katie was . . . she was different and she was awesome. Straightening my glasses, I told myself not to do it, but before I left the room, I grabbed my purse out of the cabinet and pulled out my phone.

The small smile faded from my lips. There was a missed text, but it was from Dean, and seeing it really knocked my feet out from under me. Besides the fact that the last time we spoke, I’d hung up on him, it was the same message I’d sent Reece earlier and had received no response from.

Hey.