“We’ve got five more hours to kill. Entertain me. What did you do? Did you do the obligatory twenty-one shots?”

“It was actually quite the night, from what I hear.”

“Ominous.”

“We went to The Hideout. I didn’t do twenty-one shots, but I did a lot. About the time I passed out, Wes got in a brawl with Blair’s ex over some naked photos.”

“Wes got in a brawl?”

Nathan smirks. “You’ve never said that word in a sentence before, have you?”

“Sure, I have,” I say with a laugh. “I’ve been in all sorts of brawls.” Rolling my eyes, I try out the word again. “Brawl, brawl, brawl.”

He claps. “Very convincing, Surfer Princess.”

“Well, I spent mine mostly sober. I had an early flight the next morning, so Camila took me to the bar and we ordered two shots of tequila and then went home.”

“Well, we’ll have a do-over for your twenty-second.”

I nod. By the time my birthday rolls around, I don’t even know if we’ll be speaking. I don’t mention that, though. We haven’t talked about what happens when this whole thing is over.

We switch seats after another hour, and Nathan drives while I flip through the radio. I prefer it over a playlist. Randoming onto a song you haven’t thought about, but it’s just perfect for the moment… I love that about scanning through the radio.

I sit back after settling on a classic rock station, Stevie Nicks croons about love. I look over at Nathan behind the wheel, looking too good for words the way he rests his left hand at the top of the wheel.

“You look good driving my car. I could get used to being chauffeured around.”

He looks me over carefully, blue eyes scanning me from head to toe. My pulse quickens, but I don’t dare move a muscle as he stares at me like he’s really seeing me. Like he always does. “I think I could get used to this, too.”

Nathan

Chloe hadn’t really told me anything about Camila other than she’s like a sister to her so when a girl with dark brown skin and black hair with short bangs comes running out to the car to greet us, I can’t help but note all the ways they look nothing alike.

They’re about the same height, but that’s where the similarity ends. Camila is dark where my surfer princess is light and where Chloe is more reserved, Camila fills every second of silence with her excited chatter about our arrival.

Camila’s vibe actually reminds me of Gabby, and that makes me smile to think Chloe might have someone like my best friend looking out for her.

Camila ushers us inside her apartment.

“I still haven’t found a new roommate,” she whines and gives Chloe a pouty lip.

“You lived here?” I ask.