She covered her face with a pillow, then threw it on the floor. “Yep. I know. He’ll be there tomorrow night. Ugh. And he’s got all our tickets.”

“Tickets?” I frowned.

“Kudzu Giants!” She reached for her bedside lamp. “Did you forget?”

I had. Completely.

“No biggie.” Jules shot me a wry grin before she turned out the light. “It’s only music.”

Best possible words to fall asleep to.

37.

the sidewalk outside Amsterdam Ballroom was packed when I got out of my taxi. I pulled out my phone to text Jules, who’d gotten here ahead of me . . . and stared at the screen. I’d missed a call. His call. How, how—?

I dialed into voicemail. This message was crystal clear.

Okay. Minute over and . . . I miss you. I missed you while you were away, but I think I miss you even more today. The thing is, I would have run screaming too. I’m sorry that you came home to all this. I, um, I did clean my place up. I know that’s not what you were upset about, but . . . just know that I’m here now. I’m not gonna hide. And I think you’re exceptional in every way that actually matters. You’re not a cleaner, you are not a complication, you’re Ruby. And . . . I love you. So there’s that.

My tension unraveled, emotion flooding in its wake, an ocean rising from my toes to my eyes, filling them up.

Someone touched my shoulder and I jumped, tears flash-drying.

“Whoa!” Jules grinned, hands in the air. “You’re so skittish, it’s hilarious. Don’t worry, I know this isn’t your scene, but it’ll be fun. Joey!”

She called into the crowd, waving him over.

I crossed my arms, trying my best to convey friendly but unavailable. But when Joey emerged, his arm was looped around Sam’s waist. She stooped to kiss his neck as they staggered over like a three-legged race.

“Oh,” I said. “Oh my God! Hi!”

Relief shot through me, chased by a strong dose of embarrassment.

“Did I not tell you about this?” Jules murmured. “He’s had a crush on her since the sixth grade, but she was icing him until that first night you hung out and he was acting all into you. You did a good deed!”

“I didn’t even know it.”

“You still get the commission.”

“Where’s Ty?” I asked Jules, preparing myself for the broverload.

“He left.” Her expression barely changed, but I could tell how much effort was going into appearing blasé. “I dumped him! For real. He nearly took off without giving me the tickets, the bastard, but . . .”

She held them up, fanned out, and each of us stepped up to take one.

“How do you feel?” I asked, watching her.

She smiled. “Like a real person.”

Then she motioned us toward the crowd sifting itself into the ballroom’s entryway.