* * *

A few hours, three beers, and two bags of Cool Ranch Doritos later, and I’ve just about caught Lacey up on everything that’s happened over the last forty-eight hours.

“Shit.” Lacey says at the end of it all. We’re sprawled out in the remains of the living room, surrounded by junk food wrappers and empty bottles.

I turn my head and look over from where I’m laying down on the floor in front of the couch. “That’s all you’ve got to say?” I ask, “I tell you the great and epic tale of how I went from fine to a total f**king mess in like, a day flat, and the best you’ve got to offer is, ‘shit’? Aren’t you the English major?”

“Hey!” Lacey hurls a pillow at my head. “Give me a minute to process here.”

I wait, scavenging crumbs from the bottom of the chip bag. The beer has sent a pleasant buzz through my body, and with Lacey around, I’m beginning to feel more like myself, and less like the whirlwind of pure emotion I was earlier at the beach.

Finally, Lacey sits up. She waves her bottle dramatically. “Now I’ve had time to think about it, I’m ready to share my thoughts on your weird and messed up life.”

I beat out a drum-roll on the bare floorboards.

“What I have to say to you is this,” she continues. “Motherfucker.”

I blink.

“Mother f**ker.” Lacey says again, drawing out each syllable.

I collapse into giggles.

“What? It’s true. He breaks your heart into a million f**king pieces, and then has the nerve to judge you for your choices? Asshole.” Lacey takes a long gulp of beer, and then gives a burp.

“Real classy.” I joke, to distract myself from the other things she said.

“That’s me, babe!” She winks. Then her smile softens. “Honestly, hon, I don’t know what to say. How do you feel about it?”

“I told you…” I trail off, uncomfortable at the question.

“Ah, but you haven’t.” Lacey points her bottle at me. “You’ve said what happened, and what he said, and what you said. But you still haven’t actually told me about how all of this is making you feel.”

I don’t reply. What can I say? That despite everything, I forget myself when I look in his eyes? That one touch from him, and it’s like my body is burning up, so full of desire I can hardly see straight? No, I can’t tell her any of that. Somehow, admitting out loud what Emerson does to me would be like a betrayal – of Daniel, and the life we’re building together, and everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve. It’s a secret; my dark secret, just another to add to the collection.

“I feel like… I need another beer.” I say finally, reaching for the bag. It’s empty. “You only bought one pack?” I cry, making my voice louder and more dramatic to distract Lacey from her still un-answered question.

She gives me a look, like she knows exactly what I’m doing. “I didn’t think this was a three-alarm fire,” she points out.

“There’s a liquor store in town,” I suggest. “We could just cut the crap and get some tequila. And pizza. I’m hungry,” I frown, yawning. I’ve lost track of time with our afternoon gabfest, but I know I haven’t eaten since… The PB&J sandwich I cobbled together last night? I shake my head. No wonder the beer is doing a number on me already, I’m running on nothing except fumes here.

Lacey struggles upright. “Ooh, wait! I know what we need to do!” She crawls over to her purse, and rummages around. She pulls out a bright blue flyer. “Party time!” she announces. “I saw this on my way into town. A big thing, down at the harbor tonight.”

“A party? No f**king way.” I shut it down quickly, before she can get carried away.

Too late.

“But it’ll be fun, just what you need!” Lacey proclaims. “Food, booze, some dancing, some cute guys… That last part’s for me,” she adds, climbing to her feet. “You have enough to worry about, with Daniel and the Ex.”

“Lacey, I can’t.” I say, feeling a tremor of nerves. “Something like this, he’ll be there, for sure.”

“And you’re going to let him run your life?” Lacey challenges.

“Yes!” I cry. “Just until I leave Cedar Cove.”

“Psh.” Lacey shakes her head so fast her hair flies out in a tangled halo around her head. “I never figured you for a pu**y.”

“I’m not.” I try not to let her bait me. “I’m being sensible. The last thing I want is another awful run-in with him!”

“Or maybe you’re just scared it won’t be awful,” Lacey adds, her eyes gleaming. “Maybe, you’re afraid that if you see him again, you won’t be able to resist dropping your panties and having one last goodbye f**k.”

My chest constricts. Am I really that obvious?

“Fine.” I spit, getting to my feet. “We’ll go. I don’t care.”

Anything to prove her wrong.

“Yay!” Lacey claps her hands together. “You and me, out on the town… After you go do something about that.” She gestures up and down, from my head to my bare feet. “I love you, but you look a mess.”

“It’s just a cookout,” I protest, reaching up to pat at my now-tangled hair. “Everyone’ll be totally casual.”