Page 99 of Tempt Thy Neighbor

After half an hour of squirting unsuspecting people from Dean’s window, we saw Sutton come strolling down the street.

For a moment, I felt bad for hitting him with water. He looked rough. His jaw was lined with multiple days’ worth of stubble, and his clothes looked like they’d been slept in.

But then I remembered all the hurt he caused me, and I sought my revenge.

Afterward, I cried for an hour straight.

Dean had no idea what to do and called in reinforcements.

“Another?” River tilts the bottle of whiskey my way.

We’re all crowded onto her bed with enough alcohol to make me sick for days and all the good comfort foods. Artemis and River’s cat, Morris, are curled up together at the foot of the bed.

“No way. I think five shots is my limit. My stomach is already turning.”

“Here.” Caroline shoves food my way. “Have some pizza.”

“Then more liquor.” Maya winks.

“Is this what you ladies did when you had your hearts broken? Drink and eat until you were going to burst?”

“I ate pie and drank whiskey in my bathtub,” River says with a shrug.

“I mostly wallowed,” Caroline admits.

“I had to be strong for my son, but I did spend a lot of nights crying myself to sleep.”

“Ugh! Why do men suck?”

“Hey! We can hear you, you know!” Dean yells from the living room where he, Caroline’s boyfriend, Cooper, and Maya’s boyfriend, Nolan—who also happens to be Dean’s childhood best friend—are watching baseball.

“And we’re sorry for being idiots!” Cooper adds.

“The biggest morons in the entire world!” Nolan tacks on.

River rolls her eyes. “They’re totally just trying to get laid.”

“I’m not!” Dean hollers. Then he not-so-quietly tells the guys, “Like she could even resist this dick.”

I nearly vomit.

“Seriously, so exhausting.”

“Yeah, in bed.” Caroline’s cheeks flame. “Crap. Sorry, Holland. I didn’t mean to rub it in.”

I wave my hand. “It’s fine.”

But really, it’s not.

I’mnot.

I miss Sutton badly.

I miss his laugh and that ridiculously smug smirk of his.

I miss the way he’d wear his sweatpants slung low on his hips, leaving very little to the imagination.

I miss the way he’d sit comfortably with me in silence as I read my book, tracing his finger gently over the new scar on my foot as if to soothe it.

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