She waves a napkin in my face. “He said to text him. He’s off at midnight. Which means”—she hooks an elbow through mine and pulls me through the throng toward a high-top table in the back—“that we need to find you a guy for the night.”

I slide onto a stool, and my toes breathe a sigh of relief. “Sloane, I appreciate it. Really, I do. It’s just…” A heavy ball of guilt forms in my stomach, but I keep talking anyway. “I thought I was over Logan and ready to move on, but I’m not. I need more time.”

Sloane blinks at me in surprise. Every time Logan has come up, I’ve insisted I’m fine. This is a rapid one-eighty.

“You said you’re over him.”

I nod. “I thought I was. But he’s been texting me lately, and he sent me that gift, and I—I don’t know. It made sense to end things with him, but it might have been a mistake.”

“The book thing was thoughtful,” Sloane agrees. “I think you should play the field some, though. Logan is the only guy you’ve really ever dated. Explore what’s out there, you know?”

“Maybe.” I shrug. “I’m just not ready to jump into something new.”

“Okay.” Sloane takes a sip of her drink and leans back on her stool. “We’ll have a girls’ night. And if Logan is really who you want, I’ll be supportive. He still seems super into you. No way in hell I would send my ex a gift.”

I smile, even as the guilt grows. I’ve kept things from Sloane over the course of our long friendship, but this is the first time I can recall ever lying to her outright, especially about something of importance.

Once Gray leaves, it won’t matter, I tell myself. I’ll move on—for real—and let Sloane push me out of my comfort zone.

“Thanks, S.”

She smiles. “Of course. I just want you to be happy, Evie.”

“I know. You too.”

“Oh, I am.” She winks. “Ready to dance?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

I climb out of the Uber and glance around the quiet, dark street. Sloane and I ended up in a more family-centric neighborhood. It’s after midnight, and the only place with lights on is ours. I paw through my clutch until I find my house key and unlock the front door. I step inside and turn on more lights.

When Sloane mentioned to Noah that we were going out tonight, he offered to take care of Skye in the morning. I wasn’t about to turn down the chance to sleep past seven—and unpack more than a few boxes. My new bedroom resembles a storage container at the moment.