me.
“Brandon, the busboy?” I sit forward and raise an eyebrow. I had already changed into my sweatpants and planned to spend a quiet evening with my latest mystery novel. The idea of changing into other clothes and going to someone’s house to watch guys chug beer from a keg in the kitchen sounds less than appealing right now.
“Yeah. A friend of his is throwing a party tonight and he asked if you and I wanted to meet him there.” She shoves her shoes aside, and gives me a questioning glance.
“So unds weird to me. We don’t even hang out with him. Does he like you or something?”
Billie winks. “Maybe.”
“Do you like him?”
“As a friend. Anyway, who cares if he likes me or not? It’s a party. It’ll be fun.”
I sink back onto the couch cushions and rest my head. “Well, have fun then.”
Billie pulls me up by the arm , and I reluctantly lift my head from the cushions. “No, no. I didn’t say that Brandon invited me. He invited both of us.”
I groan. “Billie, I ha ve no desire to go to a party where I don’t know anyone.”
“ You’ll know someone. Brandon’ll be there.”
I cock an eyebrow. “The busboy? The one I’ve spoken maybe two words to my entire life? I hardly call that a friendship.”
“So what? He’s a nice guy. C’mon, Ives,” Billie pleads.
“I don’t care how nice he is. I don’t want to go to a party.” I narrow my eyes , and lean back. Curling up on the couch with a book sounds even better now than it did before. “You know how much I hate those.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m not going to let you sit around and have this Ivy pity-party anymore. It’s time to go out and have some fun.” Billie stands, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re coming with me to this party, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You can’t make me go.”
“I won’t let you keep moping around this apartment.” Billie waggles her fingers at me. “There are more guys out there than just Asher.”
“This isn’t about Asher,” I answer sharply.
“Sure it isn’t.” Billie rolls her eyes.
“It’s not.” I let my arms fall to my sides. “You’ve been on my case about not going out for the last year, long before Asher came back.”
Billie softens a little. “True. But you’ve been acting super depressed ever since that day he showed up at the restaurant.”
“Billie, he was my best friend for years. Of course I’m upset that we’re not friends anymore,” I say with exasperation.
“See, was that so hard to admit?” Billie smirks.
“That’s what this was about? You just wanted me to admit that?”
“No, that was just an added bonus.” Billie smiles. “Mostly I want you to go to this party with me.”
“Why do you want to go this party so bad?”
“I just want to go out and have fun, and I want my best friend to come with me.”
My lips curl upward a little. Rarely does she call me her best friend, even though I know I am.
“Is that a yes?” She raises her brows.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to go.”
“Ivy Marie Johnson, I’m taking you to this party even if I have to drag you there in your sweats.” Billie cocks her head to the side, and gives me a challenging stare.
My stomach clenches. I can tell she means business. She called me by my entire name and everything. At this point it will be easier to give in than to keep arguing. Billie knows how to get her way. Besides, I’m pretty sure that she’d really drag me to a party in my sweats. I’ve had that dream before, and I can only imagine it would be worse in real life. “Fine, I’ll go.” I grunt, reluctantly peeling myself off the couch. “But I’m not going to have any fun.”
“We’ll see,” she says, the shadow of a smile playing on her lips.
I stagger to my room and close the door. While perusing my closet, I curse myself for allowing Billie to talk me into this. The last thing I want is to go to some party with
“Brandon, the busboy?” I sit forward and raise an eyebrow. I had already changed into my sweatpants and planned to spend a quiet evening with my latest mystery novel. The idea of changing into other clothes and going to someone’s house to watch guys chug beer from a keg in the kitchen sounds less than appealing right now.
“Yeah. A friend of his is throwing a party tonight and he asked if you and I wanted to meet him there.” She shoves her shoes aside, and gives me a questioning glance.
“So unds weird to me. We don’t even hang out with him. Does he like you or something?”
Billie winks. “Maybe.”
“Do you like him?”
“As a friend. Anyway, who cares if he likes me or not? It’s a party. It’ll be fun.”
I sink back onto the couch cushions and rest my head. “Well, have fun then.”
Billie pulls me up by the arm , and I reluctantly lift my head from the cushions. “No, no. I didn’t say that Brandon invited me. He invited both of us.”
I groan. “Billie, I ha ve no desire to go to a party where I don’t know anyone.”
“ You’ll know someone. Brandon’ll be there.”
I cock an eyebrow. “The busboy? The one I’ve spoken maybe two words to my entire life? I hardly call that a friendship.”
“So what? He’s a nice guy. C’mon, Ives,” Billie pleads.
“I don’t care how nice he is. I don’t want to go to a party.” I narrow my eyes , and lean back. Curling up on the couch with a book sounds even better now than it did before. “You know how much I hate those.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m not going to let you sit around and have this Ivy pity-party anymore. It’s time to go out and have some fun.” Billie stands, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re coming with me to this party, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You can’t make me go.”
“I won’t let you keep moping around this apartment.” Billie waggles her fingers at me. “There are more guys out there than just Asher.”
“This isn’t about Asher,” I answer sharply.
“Sure it isn’t.” Billie rolls her eyes.
“It’s not.” I let my arms fall to my sides. “You’ve been on my case about not going out for the last year, long before Asher came back.”
Billie softens a little. “True. But you’ve been acting super depressed ever since that day he showed up at the restaurant.”
“Billie, he was my best friend for years. Of course I’m upset that we’re not friends anymore,” I say with exasperation.
“See, was that so hard to admit?” Billie smirks.
“That’s what this was about? You just wanted me to admit that?”
“No, that was just an added bonus.” Billie smiles. “Mostly I want you to go to this party with me.”
“Why do you want to go this party so bad?”
“I just want to go out and have fun, and I want my best friend to come with me.”
My lips curl upward a little. Rarely does she call me her best friend, even though I know I am.
“Is that a yes?” She raises her brows.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to go.”
“Ivy Marie Johnson, I’m taking you to this party even if I have to drag you there in your sweats.” Billie cocks her head to the side, and gives me a challenging stare.
My stomach clenches. I can tell she means business. She called me by my entire name and everything. At this point it will be easier to give in than to keep arguing. Billie knows how to get her way. Besides, I’m pretty sure that she’d really drag me to a party in my sweats. I’ve had that dream before, and I can only imagine it would be worse in real life. “Fine, I’ll go.” I grunt, reluctantly peeling myself off the couch. “But I’m not going to have any fun.”
“We’ll see,” she says, the shadow of a smile playing on her lips.
I stagger to my room and close the door. While perusing my closet, I curse myself for allowing Billie to talk me into this. The last thing I want is to go to some party with
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