Page 77 of Revival

“I’m not even finished with this one.” Another hearty gulp puts the beverage halfway down the glass.

“You need to catch up,” she declares, slashing her finger through the air.

“Fine.” I toss back the remainder of my drink. “Order me another one. And keep them coming. If you intend to keep me here, I might as well do girls’ night properly.”

Frankie holds out her hand. “Keys. Anyone not getting picked up by a significant other is getting a ride home from me since I don’t drink. Or you’re free to crash at the Sanctuary for the night.”

The significant other remark lands like a jab. My keys clink as I dig them from my purse. “Either is fine by me.”

“Now that that’s settled, we need to split into teams,” Juniper says, passing out paper and pens.

Confusion steals over my face, and I’m too tired to hide it. “What are we doing again?”

“Book trivia!” Juniper announces, retaking her seat. “Winning team gets one-hundred-and-fifty dollars to When Spines Align Bookstore.”

“We need to make teams. Six is too many. We’ll be arguing until the timer runs out.” Bree scoots her chair closer to Whitney on her other side.

“I guess it’s going to be you three.” Juniper points at Bree, Whitney, and Isla. “Against us.” Her hand circles across herself, Frankie, and me at the end of our trio.

Bree looks at me with a challenge in her eye. I pick up my fresh drink, knocking back a chug. “You’re going down.” I lick the sweet concoction from my lip.

“Yeah, right. Isla and Whitney both have infants at home. What do you think they do while they’re nursing around the clock?” Bree giggles.

Isla leans forward with a smirk. “John’s been cluster feeding too, which means he wants to eat nonstop. I’ve been tearing through my TBR.”

“There’s no way I’m finishing mine before I die.” Juniper leans back from the table with a sigh.

An emcee takes over the sound system, her voice crackling through the speakers. She announces the game and the points system before rattling off her first question.

“We’re going to start with an easy one. In the bookFourth Wingby Rebecca Yarros, what type of dragon is Tairn?”

Gasps and chatter are heard all around the room as teams discuss their answers. Our town might be small, but by the looks of the full tables, we have a lot of book lovers here. The competition for that gift certificate is going to be tight.

“Question two: Decode these three acronyms. DNF, TBR, and MMC.”

“Easy,” our table groans together, followed by a round of giggles.

The night goes on in a blur filled with laughter and book boyfriends. My table is crushing the game, both teams, as we’re helping each other out and basically working as one. By round three of trivia, I’ve managed to keep myself on my fourth drink, and my bladder is about to burst.

“I need a break. I’ll be right back. Don’t lose while I’m gone.” I blow my girls a kiss and slip off to the restroom.

In the mirror, I find flushed cheeks and frizzy hair. The lack of a shower after Pilates did my appearance no favors. I wash my hands and smooth out the strands as best I can. Being that it’s summer now in Minnesota, my beach tan lingers longer than it would have in the winter months. I inspect my skin and splash water on my cheeks to cool them down.

I miss Spencer.

Thinking those three words sends a tightness to my chest so strong it’s like I’ve been wrapped in a tight hug.

But not the good kind of hug. The bad kind. The claustrophobic kind. The kind that has me clawing at my chest and throat, trying to get loose because I just can’t breathe right.

Holy crap, do I miss him.

The admission catches me off guard, and I grip the sink for balance. I’ve drunk just enough to feel dizzy but not enough to fall. My heart dances in my chest just thinking about him, and before I give myself time to think it through, I dig out my phone.

As I scroll to his contact, I lean my ass against the sink and cross an arm over my chest. A physical barrier of sorts to protect myself. I debate over texting or calling. On the one hand, a text rejection is less embarrassing, but on the other, I need to hear his voice again.

In the end, I hit the call button and listen as the phone rings in my ear.

Hey, you’ve reached Spencer. Leave me a message…

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