Carter’s fingers tightened around my hip, securing me next to him as we walked through the door at Sixes. I paused and couldn’t believe the turn my life had taken. I needed to stop and search for my fairy godmother, she had to be hiding somewhere. What I felt for Carter was magical and everything seemed to be falling together perfectly. Add that to the way the girls had included me into their tribe, and I had to look down just to make sure that I wasn’t about to slip in some fucking fairy dust and lose it all.

“Go. We need girl time.” Stella stood and shooed her brother away. “And Sophie has a glow about her, I think that she needs to dish.”

Carter leaned down and placed a quick but gentle kiss against my lips before giving a chin nod to rest of the girls. “Keep the chaos to a minimum.”

“You are not spoiling our fun, now go.” Stella pointed toward the door.

Carter gave me a wink and was gone. 

“Before we get plastered, I think we really do need to celebrate Piper’s promotion by taking a moment to thank the Lord Almighty for his blessings,” Ariel suggested.

I looked at her, not realizing that she was so religious. Ariel picked up her phone and dialed a number before turning it on speakerphone and setting it in the middle of the table. 

“Hey, you redheaded stepchild, what are you doing calling Ringo on a Friday night?” Instantly recognizing the voice coming through the speaker and realizing that there must be some joke about prayers and Ringo. 

“Why aren’t you with that Greek God of yours? Oh wait, I’m with him,” Ringo said with a laugh.

“Shut up, you are not. He’s at home. But I do hope that you find your own Greek God. Anyway, I need a favor.”

“Name it, and if I can make it happen, I will. If I can’t, we’ll see who I can do, I mean what I can do to make it happen.”

I laughed at his intentional faux pas. 

“I need a table Sunday for seven. We’re celebrating.”

“What are we celebrating?” he asked, including himself in the party.

“We are celebrating our friend Piper. She earned the position as the new motorcycle deputy for Orange County.” Ariel shot me a devious smirk. “And you remember Sophia, right? Well, let’s just say that she has been one lucky girl this week.” 

Ringo squealed. Honest to God squealed. “Please tell old Ringo that it is with that blond Adonis that couldn’t keep his hands or his eyes off her that night. If not, does she happen to know where I can find him?”

“Sorry, Ringo, but yes that is him.”

“Damn. Why are all the ones I want straight? Life just doesn’t seem fair.”

“Maybe you’ll find a Greek God and Adonis and live happily ever after in debauchery.” 

“Oh, my goals in life have just expanded.” Ringo let out a wistful sigh as if coming back down from the clouds. “Okay. So, we have two things to celebrate, I will have a table for you. Now, let me go and maybe I can find my own reason to celebrate.” Right before he hung up, we heard him say, “Oh! Yoo-hoo, Mr. Sailorman, I was just talking about you.”

“Oh my God, is he for real? I mean, I met him at the auction and thought he was hysterical, but this is too much. I love him.” I could just imagine Ringo celebrating with Mr. Sailorman.

“Well, it looks like we are going to Bananas Sunday morning,” Ariel said. “Do we want to ride?”

“I’d like to drive my car since it’s the last day I’ll have a cruiser. Who wants to pile in it?”

“That would be hysterical. A few of us ride and several could pile in the back of Piper’s car like criminals.” Stella’s mind was already concocting some elaborate scheme.

“You’re warped.” I bumped Stella’s shoulder. "But it would be funny. By the way, is anyone going to tell me what the hell Banana’s is?”

“Oh. My. God." Stella could barely get the words out from laughing so hard. “Wait until you see this place. It is a drag show set in a fifties style diner during a church service.”

“What?” That didn't even make sense to me.

“I couldn't make this shit up if I tried. The waitresses all wear outfits that resemble that old television show Mel's Diner with Alice and Flo. Of course, there’s a redhead with a beehive hairdo running around snapping bubble gum, telling everyone to, ‘kiss my grits.’”

“It's Ringo though; he makes the show,” Ariel said smiling brightly about some fond memory. “He and the other performers are all in gospel choir robes singing old hymns. But pay close attention, he has a habit of changing the words.”

I was cracking up, already picturing the image. Sunday was going to be a blast; it couldn't come quick enough for me.

“Soph, I’ll swing by tomorrow and pick up your vest if you don’t mind.” Ariel gave me a devious smile.

“Okay.”

“Since Banana’s is now out of the way, dish,” Ariel demanded staring at me.

“Spill.” Stella banged her fist on the table.

I gave Stella a puzzled look. “You want to know about sex with your brother? I find so many things wrong with that.”

“Like I fucking care, you can leave my brother’s name out.”

“I want to know if you’ve talked about what happened all of those years ago?” Leo brought our happy conversation to a halt.

“No, we didn’t discuss the past. I don’t know how. You guys don’t get it . . .” I bit my lower lip and stared off, over their heads, and toward the other side of the bar.

“Has he asked?”

I took a second to ponder, realizing that aside from that first night at Sixes, he hasn’t actually mentioned my leaving. 

“He did, but we were both too angry to talk like rational adults.” 

“I understand not wanting to share with us . . . well, actually I don’t because you should share everything with us, but that is something we can discuss a different day, but you should tell him.” Stella tried to add her normal humor and still infuse her strength into me. I could sense that she supported me keeping this a secret until I told him.

“It’s not that easy.” I let out a sigh, the weight of ten years pressing on my shoulders. “You don’t get it, none of you do. You have no clue what it's like to live a carefree life and then have the rug ripped out from under you.” Slowly, my sorrow was leaking out and turning on them, and for some reason, I couldn’t stop it. “No one gets it. No one understands what it’s like to lose everything, to know that everyone else is happy and that you are stuck with the shit end of the stick.” I was angry, not at them but at the situation.

“I get it, I totally understand,” Vivian said in a near whisper. “My husband and I met our freshman year of high school and that was it. Our hearts just recognized each other, you know what I mean?”

I nodded because I totally knew what she meant. The first time Carter pulled me over, something in our hearts just recognized each other. I know that sounded corny but it was true.

“We got married a month after graduation, never regretted it, not once. He was . . .”

Was? Oh my God. What did she mean was?

She took a deep breath. “He was a deputy and last year he was killed. So, if you’re going to tell us that no one understands what it feels like to know sunshine, only to then get thrust into the middle of a never-ending thunderstorm, then you are extremely naive.”

Another wave of quietness passed over our table, but instead of being full of sympathy, it was full of heartbreak.

“Where are those drinks?” Stella spun around in her seat, avoiding eye contact with me.

“Here you go,” the waitress said as she placed a tray full of shot glasses in the middle of our table. “You have Lemon Drops, Washington Apples, Woo Woos, and Stella’s personal favorite, Blow Jobs. Give me a wave when you want more. I’ll get some food sent over as well.”

“We always start the night with Blow Jobs.” Stella moved her glass to the edge of the table and then stood. “I love both of you, and honestly, I don’t want to walk in either of your shoes. But the one thing that we are here for is to remind both of you that life goes on, and we are here to help you. So, everyone please stand. Here’s to tough times and tougher women.”

They all cheered and then leaned over and picked up the shot glass sans hands. I followed suit, and in one gulp, the drink was sliding down the back of my throat and my glass was popped back on to the table. Picking up a second glass, which must have been the Washington Apple, I downed it and then grabbed the yellow one, Lemon Drop. 

“Hold on for a second,” Leo said so she and everyone else could down their Washington Apples. “Take a breather for a second and then we will do the other two.”

Tonight, I was determined to drown my sorrow beginning with these four shots. 

“You know I’m used to being everyone’s pitiful friend, I don’t want their pity, never have.” Vivian brought her face close to mine. “Don’t you settle for it, either. From what I can see there isn’t one thing wrong with you. Look at you, you’re beautiful, you’re healthy, you’re whole.” 

I downed the fuckin’ Lemon Drop and glared at her. “Fuck you.” She didn’t know anything about me, not one single thing. I wasn’t whole. I raced off to find the bathroom. 

Inside, I leaned over the basin and turned the cold water on to splash water on my face. Clutching the sides of the sink, I tried to regain my composure, I just needed to call someone to come get me. I looked up at the sound of the door swinging open and groaned at the sight of Vivian standing there.

“Come to finish the job?”

“Stop it, will you?”

She gripped my shoulders and jerked me upright, forcing me to stand in front of the mirror. “Look at yourself, you are beautiful.”

“Not really, I’m not whole, you have no clue, no fucking clue what I’ve been through.”

“You’re right. I don’t, and neither does anyone else because you won’t let them in. If you want to keep your secret, that’s fine, but you can’t hold it over our heads for not understanding when you haven’t given us a chance.”

“He wants kids, I can’t have them,” I said as I wrapped my fingers around Vivian’s wrist that rested on my shoulder. “Even when we’re joking he talks about naming children. I can’t do that to him.”

“Who cares if you can’t have kids? Who cares that you’ve been through some shit? The way I see it is that people like us have two options: be pitied or get stronger. Which one are you going to be?” She tapped my head. “You need to wake up and realize that there is a man that apparently has waited ten years to find you. I’m going to let you think about this.” Vivian waved her hand in the air as if thoughts were floating around. “Sophie, I think you’re strong but you’re afraid. Ask yourself what is it that truly frightens you. When you know the answer, you’ll be ready to move on with your life. When you’re done in here come on out, we’ll be waiting for you. And for what it’s worth, I’m always here if you need someone to listen.”

When the door closed, I slid down the wall, pulled my legs up, laid my head on my knees, and let the gut-wrenching sobs hit me. I expected someone to come running in at any moment, thinking that I was being slaughtered, but I couldn’t stop. It hurt, everything hurt so fucking bad. I hated myself. I hated life. And most of all I hated that Vivian was right. I straightened my legs and pounded my fists against the floor as I continued to wail.

When there was nothing left to cry out, I wiped my nose, stood up, and looked at my face in the mirror. My nose resembled Rudolph’s, my cheeks looked more like I was suffering from rosacea, and my eyes were in the middle of hay fever season. I snatched a paper towel and dampened it to clean away the mascara streaks and then sniffled some more, drying the last of my tears before pushing out of the bathroom door. 

Back at the table, I picked up the last shot then downed it. “Let’s dance.” I was listening to the alcohol, which was telling me that I should dance as I spread my arms out, tilted my head up to the lights, and twirled as Rachel Platten sang “Fight Song.” When the song was over, whether it was Vivian’s words, the song, or that Carter Lang, the only guy that I’d ever fallen in love with was picking me up tonight, I was happier than I had been in a long time, and full of hope.

Walking . . . or was it wobbling, back to our table, Stella gave me a vibrant smile. “Feel better?”

I nodded.

“Ready for our drinking game?” she asked.

“What game?”

“We call it, Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda. It’s sorta like Truth or Dare for alcoholics. Every sentence has to have a would you, could you, or should you, and involve drinking. Ariel can start.”

“Would y’all go dance in front of everyone like a chicken with its head cut off?”

I glanced to the center of the table and noticed that two more shots for each of us and some food had been placed there.

“So, what happens if we’re all willing to do it?” I asked, trying to understand if this was automatically a dare.

“We drink,” Leo said, picking up a shot.

“And what if no one wants to do it?”

“We drink,” Leo said as she twirled her glass.

“And if only a few did it am I to assume that we still drink?”

“You catch on quick.” Leo handed me a shot glass.

We each downed one, and then ran, as fast as seven fairly intoxicated women could run, to the dance floor. Laughing as the DJ played “Fight Like a Girl” by Bomshel. I jumped around in my version of an African tribal dance before moving with the others as Stella started doing the chicken dance, and just before the song ended, one of these drunk bitches—Vivian—got the bright idea to wrap her arm around my shoulders and pull me into the line to start a cancan. I cracked up laughing. Unfortunately, we looked nothing like the Rockettes. When the song finally ended, we headed back to our table.

Grabbing a slider from the basket, I ate and drank some water while we decided who went next.

“Sophie’s new, let her have a go,” Ariel said, nominating me.

I thought for a moment before saying, “Would you switch phones with someone and allow them to text anyone in your contact list?” Watching the stunned looks on some of their faces and a cackle coming from Stella and Vivian, I knew that I had hit on a genius idea. Everyone pulled out a phone, and I kept my eye on the one I wanted to grab. “Put them in the middle, and then we will all just grab one, just not your own. Make sure to unlock it.” When we counted to three, I dove for the iPhone with the orange OtterBox with a bar and shield logo.

I wasn’t overly worried about who got my phone. I didn’t have many names in my contact list except family. I opened the phone and went to settings, moved the icon to block caller ID, and then scrolled through her contacts. 

Nothing. 

He wasn’t in her phone. 

Fine. That wouldn’t stop me. I entered his number into her phone and then pulled up the text screen. 

Unknown Caller: Do you know how fucking hot I find you? There is something about a rocket scientist’s brain that fucking turns me on. Just thinking about you, your dark hair, and chocolate eyes makes me wet.

I watched as the three dots flashed across the screen.

Ian: Haha. Very funny. Who the fuck is this?

Unknown Caller: If I told you, I’d have to shoot you or ask your brother to shoot you.

Ian: Enough. Really, who is this?

Unknown Caller: I’m serious. I think that you are the sexiest man. But I know that you don’t see me that way.

Ian: Are we in fucking high school?

Unknown Caller: Does that turn you on, Ian? Me, in a catholic school girl uniform. My skirt rising up as I bend over to pick up my books?

“Sophie has an entire conversation going. Who the hell are you texting?” Stella leaned over my shoulder to read what I was typing and snorted. “Oh shit, that’s good. Keep going.”

“Fuck, that’s my phone.” Leo tried to pull it from my hands, but I swatted her away.

“Stop. Let me finish.”

Ian: Please tell me that you’re over eighteen?

Unknown Caller: I am legal. But I also want to do things with you that are illegal in several states, maybe even some countries. 

Ian: Oh God.

Unknown Caller: Actually, you will shout: Oh God, oh God, oh God!!!

Ian: Okay, who is this?

Unknown Caller: Good night, gorgeous.

Ian: Oh, no you don’t. Don’t stop texting until you tell me your name.

Ian: You still there?

Ian: I will figure out who the fuck this is.

I returned Leo’s caller ID to its normal setting and handed back her phone. I watched as she read the text conversation and threw her head on the table.

“No, no, no. He thinks I’m a lesbian.”

“Don’t worry. I turned off your caller ID before I texted him. I turned it back on when I was done. So, don’t text again, otherwise he will have your number,” I told her. “Wait. Why does he think you’re a lesbian?”

“I don’t know, just comments he has made over the years, and I get so tongue-tied around him that I can’t say anything to correct him.”

Stella and I leaned closer together and stared at Leo. 

“No. Whatever you two are thinking about, the answer is no.” Leo waved her index finger between the two of us.

We let out a laugh and then grabbed our phones back. Whoever had my phone had been having a rather interesting conversation with Carter. 

Me: Hey, gorgeous, I’ve been thinking about you all night.

Carter: What about?

Me: About your big cock.

Carter: What?

“Oh shit, who had my phone?”

“I did.” Vivian waved her hand as she read her own phone’s texts.

Me: The girls wanted to know about you as a lover. So, I told them you were incredible and that you promised to drunk fuck me tonight.

Carter: Is that what you want?

Me: I always want you to fuck me, drunk or not.

Carter: When?

Me: What time are you coming to get me?

Carter: Now.

Me: Ride the motorcycle.

Carter: Why?

Me: So, I can have the roar of the engine between my legs and the roar of your engine inside me.

Carter: What? You want sex on the bike?

Me: Yes. Doesn’t that sound hot?

Carter: That sounds fucking hot. I’m on my way.

Me: Good because I’ll be sitting here getting wet just thinking about your big cock.

“Holy shit, Vivian, you should write porn screenplays.” Stella shouted, and the entire bar silenced. “Sorry.” Stella gave a slight wave. “You didn’t write a lot of words, you just got right to the action. A part of me wants me to seek mental help because what you wrote is hot and it’s to my brother.”

“Raise your hand if you think the phone game is our new go-to girls’ night out game?” Ariel held her hand up, waiting for everyone else to join her. When we did, she smiled. “Perfect. That’s our game until someone can come up with something more fun.”

We all fixed plates, grabbing a little of everything from the baskets of food in the center of the table. I reached for the last shot while everyone else grabbed theirs. “Thank you for welcoming me to my first official girls’ night.” We drank the butterscotch flavored drink. “Was that our fifth?”

“It was your sixth.” A warm familiar male voice said from behind me.

“Shit,” I shouted like it was bingo and I had just won. “You scared me.”

“Did you ride the bike up?” Ariel asked.

I looked at Carter and saw him raise one eyebrow. “No.”

“You didn’t? Why not?” Leo jumped in.

“Because, although that text was hot, it didn’t sound like Sophie, so I figured one of you had gotten your hands on her phone.”

Our laughs stopped at the sound of male voices coming near us.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Kayson asked.

“Did you get text messages?” Carter asked, a low chuckle in his voice.

“Yep,” Ian commented, coming to stand next to Kayson. 

“And me.” Tristan smirked at Stella.

Wow, three of my cousins got texted, I needed to grab Stella’s phone and see what was sent to him.

“So, what’s going on?” Kayson stood behind Ariel. “Ian called me and told me that he had just received the strangest text. So, I called Tristan and Damon. It seems that Damon was the only one left out of the prank. I’m assuming that you are all drunk texting?”

“Mine didn’t sound drunk and whoever texted me blocked their caller ID.” Ian waved his phone out for us all to see.

“Mine wasn’t blocked, but it didn’t sound like Stella, either. It was much too tame.” Tristan stepped up and tugged on Stella’s braid.

I bit my lip, holding back my smile.

Carter’s warm breath tickled against the back of my neck. “What did I tell you about biting that lip?” His voice was low so only I could hear. “Let’s go home.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Nice diversion,” Stella whispered, unfortunately we were drunk and in a bar, so our voices were louder than normal and the guys all stopped to stare. “Shit.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Carter picked me up in a fireman’s hold and carried me out the door.