I fidget with one of my rings. “I shouldn’t really be drinking with my medication.”
“I won’t tell anyone you’re sipping mocktails if you don’t.” She winks.
As much as I want to say no, my sister’s excitement won’t allow me to. “Okay. Fine. But only for one drink.”
“Sure. Yeah. Whatever.” She pulls out a red dress from the bottom of my luggage. “Yes! This is perfect.”
“And what am I supposed to be?”
She pulls a triangular piece of paper from her jacket pocket and pins it to the strap of the dress. “I’d rather you be surprised by whoever guesses it right.” She throws the dress at me.
“Lily!”
She rushes out of my room, yelling, “You’ve got fifteen minutes to get ready, so get to it!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dahlia
Last Call hasn’t changed since I last left, although it currently features cheap Halloween décor to celebrate the holiday. The crowd has grown since we first arrived, most likely because parents and children are no longer wandering the streets collecting candy.
At first, I was sweaty and borderline panicked at the idea of speaking to anyone, but no one brings up the news of my broken engagement or Oliver, proving Lily’s theory correct.
I do care too much about what others think. Whether about my makeup, clothes, or life choices, I let the Creswells’ opinions rule my life, turning me into a version of myself I grew to resent.
You’re a part of our family now, so you should dress accordingly, Oliver’s mother said as she gifted me a beautiful designer gown two sizes too small.
No one likes a show-off. His sister shot me the fakest smile after I beat everyone during a family trivia night.
Couldn’t even let me win that, Oliver whispered in my ear before kissing my cheek for our audience after I won the award for Best TV Host in the reality television category.
“I’m back.” Lily yanks me away from the memory as she passes me another nonalcoholic strawberry daiquiri. While it isn’t my drink of choice, I suck it up because Last Call isn’t known for its world-class mixologists.
I grab the plastic cup and take a sip. “Am I Jessica Rabbit?”
“Who?” Her face scrunches.
I shake my head. “Never mind. What about Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?”
She laughs before knocking back her shot. “Good guess, but no. Your dress is too short, and you’re missing the iconic gloves. Now, let’s go dance!”
Lily grabs my hand and pulls me toward the dance floor packed with people. After a few line-dancing songs, my worries fade away as I let loose and have fun.
I always loved dancing, all because of my parents and their habit of turning our living room into a dance floor whenever their favorite songs popped up. As a kid, it was embarrassing at family parties, but now I yearn for that kind of relationship.
As Lily spins me around with a laugh, the back of my neck prickles. I turn on the heels of my boots to find Julian staring at me.
No. Not staring.
Devouring.
Goose bumps spread across my arms as his dark eyes drag from my body to my face. I raise a brow when his burning gaze connects with mine, and he looks away with a clenched jaw and a tight fist pressing against his thigh.
I take advantage of his shyness and check him out. From the tasteful amount of exposed forearm to the pair of jeans showcasing his muscular legs, Julian is one hundred percent my type.
Hell, he single-handedly redefined my type in college, and I did everything humanly possible to avoid the truth.
Julian is hot. Like really freaking hot in a look-but-don’ttouch kind of way.
My fingers tingle at the idea, and I clasp them together and squeeze until they go numb.
You need an emergency therapy session.
I turn to get Lily’s attention, hoping she can save me from my thoughts, but I find her busy dancing with a guy wearing one of those creepy light-up masks.
Great.
I drain the rest of my drink and head to the bar, picking a spot out of Julian’s direct line of sight. Before I have a chance to raise my hand for a bartender, someone taps on my shoulder.
“Dahlia? Is that you?” A deep voice has me spinning in my heels.
“Evan!” I grin at the former high school prom king, beloved swim team captain, and the first person I kissed. Nothing happened after our game of spin the bottle at a lakeside bonfire, but I distinctly remember being on cloud nine for a few weeks after.
“Surprised you still remember me.”
“It would be impossible not to after you sweet-talked your way into borrowing my chemistry homework throughout sophomore year.” Evan was one of the best-looking guys in our grade, and everyone, including me, was obsessed with him and his whole boy-next-door personality when he transferred to Wisteria High.
Yet fast-forward ten years later, and I don’t feel the slightest buzz.
I fight my disappointment as I ask, “How are you?”
“Much better now that I found you.”
The strange sensation of being watched has me glancing over my shoulder. I expected to find Julian glaring at me, but instead, he is shooting daggers at the man standing in front of me.
“So, how have you been?” Evan’s question snatches my attention back.
“Good now that I’m back home.”
His green eyes trace the shape of my face, making me feel absolutely nothing. “Did you like San Francisco?”
“Yeah, although it’s a lot different than here.”
“I bet. There aren’t many places like Lake Wisteria.”
“And how have you been?”
He leans against the bar top. “Never been better. Took over my parents’ general store, which has a shelving unit dedicated to your décor line, by the way. We can’t keep it stocked for longer than a week.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks. “Really?”
He nods. “Locals and tourists love the idea of purchasing your goods from your hometown, so keep them coming.” He winks.
I feel nothing but dread and that same choking feeling when I’m reminded of my responsibilities. “Yup. Will do.”
Evan’s eyes blaze a trail down my body, but my heart doesn’t miss a beat, which tells me all I need to know.
“Listen—” I’m cut off as something firm and warm presses against my back. I turn to find Julian looming behind me with flared nostrils that look two seconds away from spouting smoke.
“Evan.” Julian’s deep, raspy voice sends a shiver down my spine.
“Julian.” Evan tips his chin.
“How are you doing?” The vein above Julian’s right eye pulses.
Evan’s eyes lock on to mine. “Better now that I found out Dahlia is here.”
“Why?” Julian’s brittle voice makes me wince.
Why? I stomp on the tip of Julian’s shoe with the sharp point of my heel. The asshole doesn’t flinch, most likely because he is made of ice.
Evan’s eyes glimmer. “Because I always thought she was cute.”
Ugh. Cute?
Julian scoffs. “Right.”
Evan’s pinched expression probably matches mine.
“How’s your brother doing, by the way?” Julian’s question comes out of nowhere.
Evan’s head tilts. “He’s good.”