The Lying Season (Seasons #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,9
marriage with none other than the devil himself, Camden Percy. Only that Natalie had thrown down the gauntlet with Penn, and so she was a problem to be disposed of.
I was saved from trying to navigate that mess when I saw English’s blonde head bobbing toward us. She waved once and nodded her head back as if to say Whitley was the problem.
But what else was new?
I loved Whitley Bowen with a fiery passion, but she was a handful. She’d been in medical school while English and I were in law school. Now, she was on her way to becoming one of the best plastic surgeons in the city. For someone who was borderline genius, she was total a head case.
English finally pushed through to our box. Her pale skin was flushed, and she glanced back once to look for Whitley. She shook her head and then pulled me in for a hug. “Hey, babe. How are you holding up?”
“I’m doing…okay.”
“She’s anxiety-ridden,” Katherine said, tipping her champagne at English. “We need to get her drunk.”
“Great idea,” English said, brightening. “If only Whit could get her ass over here, I’d say we should do shots.”
“Why wait?” Katherine said. “Tequila?”
“God, yes.”
English stepped toward Katherine to greet her when Whitley appeared at the entrance to our box. She was five foot nothing with olive-toned skin that glowed with gold highlighter and the best pink ombré to her natural waves. For all her lack of height, she had a giant personality.
“Larkin!” Whitley tipped back the rest of her drink and then threw her drunk ass toward me. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
I laughed as she hip-checked me. “I missed you too, Whit.”
“Sorry we’re late. Ran into a guy I used to date.” She made a face that said it was not a good run-in. “You know how, like, no one ever gets over me? Well, he hasn’t either. Awkward.”
English snorted. “Your tits were in his face, and then you got a free drink out of him before ditching him, Whit. I wouldn’t exactly say that he hasn’t gotten over you, honey.”
Whitley just rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, is that tequila? Pour me some of the good stuff.” She winked at Katherine. “Ren, baby. Bring it in.”
Katherine shook her head.
My friends—the pinnacle of self-restraint and letting loose. Watching them together was like waiting for the clock to run down on a ticking time bomb. As much as Katherine complained about Whitley’s behavior and Whitley complained that Katherine had a giant stick up her ass, they actually loved each other. At least…in small doses.
“All right, shots all around,” English said, passing out the tequila, lime, and salt. She raised her glass. “To my last night in the city and not having to deal with hookers and blow for once.”
We all laughed and then threw the shots back. I coughed over the burn of the tequila.
Whitley patted my back. “Let’s get you another. How hungover can you be tomorrow at work?”
“Um…probably about as hungover as you?”
“Oh, I can do my job drunk with a blindfold on,” Whitley said. “So, you should be good.”
I snorted as she grabbed the bottle of Patrón out of the waitress’s hand and poured the liquor into my empty shot glass.
Then she winked at the waitress. “Thanks. What’s your name?”
“Keri,” she said automatically, taking the bottle back. She gave Whitley a small, secretive smile.
“Keri. I like that.” Whitley grinned big at the waitress. “You’re hot.”
Keri laughed. “Thanks. So are you.”
Whitley leaned back toward me. “I think I’m going to take her home. Girls are so much less complicated than stupid boys.”
Whitley looked her up and down. “Girls like you maybe.”
English just shook her head. “Can’t we just have drinks and dance and leave worrying about going home with someone to Lark? Because she needs it.”
“I do not need a one-night stand.”
Whitley nudged my glass. “Yes, you do. Drink up.”
I narrowed my eyes at her but tipped the second shot into my mouth. It went down better than the first. And I felt the effects almost immediately. I went from steady to shaky as soon as it hit my stomach. If I didn’t slow down, I was going to be throwing up in the bar restroom.
“You know…maybe you do,” Katherine finally said.
“Traitor,” I said, sidling up to her.
Katherine arched an eyebrow. “It’s not like it’s your first time.”
“Well, I haven’t since…right after Thomas,” I admitted.
“Are you telling me that you haven’t gotten laid in over