The High School Reunion From Hell - Saranna DeWylde Page 0,62

heal.

I let go of him, my fingers still hungry for the feel of his solid flesh, and my hands and arms felt strangely empty when we stepped apart.

Lila Jean pushed Cornflake up next.

“So like, you better hug me, okay?” She wouldn’t look at me. “I know I’m not your favorite person, but—”

I didn’t even wait for her to finish. I snatched her up and hugged her tight. “Oh, Presley. Yes, you are.”

She returned the hug and squeezed me like she was dying.

“I saw the video. You kicked so much ass. You were amazing.”

“Well, I did what I could.” She stepped away from me, demure.

“Me too. I’m sure you know by now that Dallas resurrected as a shadow vamp. I asked Weaving if he could be declared dead so you’ll still get his life insurance.”

“Is there anything left of him?” she asked softly. “Did he know you?”

“No, he was a shell. His body was still moving around, but there was nothing left.” I hugged her again. “And Gabe told me that one of his powers was to take away the will of his victims. Who knows how long Gabe had power over Dallas? You forget everything bad that he ever did and you tell your kids he died fighting for the good guys, okay?”

“I will.”

“But uh, I still don’t want them on my obstacle course.”

“God, you’re the worst neighbor.” She sniffed and rolled her eyes. “Just awful.” But her words didn’t carry any bite.

“I know, Cornflake.” I winked at her. “Maybe I could show them a few things.”

Her eyes widened and immediately sparkled. “They’d love that.”

“But holy shit, at a reasonable time. Like in the afternoon.” Then I added for good measure, “On a leap year.”

Finally, it was Lila Jean’s turn. “Girl, I’m going to put on my red cowboy boots and kick your ass so hard if you ever scare me like that again.”

I collapsed in her arms. “You’ve been such a rock. You’re the best friend a slayer could ask for.”

“Yeah, well, I almost had a heart attack when Ryder told me what happened. You’re not allowed to scare us like that. I forbid it. I’ll smack you in the back of the head again.”

“Okay,” I said softly.

“Auntie Lila Jean telling you what’s what,” Ryder crowed.

Then, Lila Jean handed me off to Brooke, who definitely didn’t look like she’d ever seen the inside of a jail cell, let alone had been in one only hours ago. Her hair hung over her shoulder in waves, and she was wearing a tailored red shirt dress, red heels and a white hat with a red satin ribbon.

“So hey,” I said, my tongue suddenly thick in my mouth and all my words were stuck in my throat.

“Yeah, hey.” She fidgeted with her Chanel bag.

We stared at each other for a long moment.

“I guess I’ll go,” she began. “No one’s ever done anything like that for me before. Put themselves at risk to save me. I mean, Mina, but dogs are inherently good. Not like people.” Brooke pushed an invisible stray hair behind her ear.

I was coming to learn that was something she did when she was nervous.

I was at a loss for what to do with my own hands. My arms felt awkward hanging by my sides, and I didn’t want to cross them over my chest because that body language closed you off in other people’s perceptions.

And I wasn’t closed off. For the first time in a long time, I was completely open.

“Do you like this dress?” she asked suddenly.

“You look beautiful, Brooke. You always look beautiful.”

“Good.” She smiled widely. “That makes me feel better.”

“I’ll tell you any time you want to hear it.”

She took my hands. “So here’s the thing. I was going to do this grand gesture, but—”

“Let’s not be hasty dismissing grand gestures,” I interrupted.

Her hands were cool, and smooth, like marble statue. I found it soothing and comfortable.

“Well, I was going to just sweep you off your feet and carry you out into the sunset, but that’s not going to work, is it? You’re still half in love with your husband and your heart needs some time. I told you earlier I wanted to be here for you any way you needed me, but it was a shock seeing what you do in action. It was cool, but it was intense.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m glad you’re okay. I’m saying that I really want to kiss you again. But I don’t want to be the girl you under so you can get over your ex.”

I hadn’t even thought about a ho phase, or even rebound sex, and the idea held zero appeal.

“I want to be friends.” She pressed her lips together. “I want to be more than friends, obviously, but right now, I think you need a friend more than you need a date.”

I realized she was right. I didn’t like it, but that didn’t make it any less true. It wouldn’t be fair to me, or to Brooke to jump into another relationship when I hadn’t finished grieving my last one. When I hadn’t done the work on myself.

Just like with Gabe, it wasn’t okay to expect someone else to be the answer to my problems. I had to be the answer to my problems. I had to fix my trauma so it didn’t spill over onto other people and hurt them.

It was okay if I wasn’t okay. It was okay to look for support. It wasn’t okay to use someone to fill the emptiness just so I didn’t have to feel it.

And that’s not what I thought my feelings for Brooke were, but I owed it to us both to heal before we tried to build anything more.

“Okay. Friends?” I held out my hand to her.

“Fuck that.” She yanked me against her, not shy about using her vampiric strength.

She felt so good, and her hands burned through my clothes and I felt her touch almost under my skin.

“I said friends,” she whispered in my ear. “I didn’t say we were friends without UST.”

I laughed so hard I snorted. “You’re awful.”

“I know. And now you can think of ways to pay me back.” She winked at me. “You’ll have ample opportunity if you take me up on my offer.”

“What offer is that?”

“Roomies! I just put an offer in on a house in your neighborhood. It has five bedrooms.” She turned to look at Presley. “And yes, she can bring her obstacle course, and you can bring your little monsters to play on it.”

This would solve my problem of where to live. It’d be easier to let go of the house I’d shared with Marc if I wasn’t living in it.

If you’d told me last week that at the end of the high school reunion from hell, I’d be considering becoming roommates with Brooke Wellington, well, I’d have told you that you were mean as a snake and twice as ugly.

Yet, here I was.

“That kind of seems like a grand gesture to me,” I said.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, but I’d love to have you.” The tone in her voice was light and playful, and I caught the double entendre and blushed so hotly, I could sizzle an egg on my ears.

I looked around at all the faces of the people I loved, and they all were waiting with bright eyes and smiles. Even Marc. His smile was sad, but gentle and full of warmth.

Looking back at Brooke, I said, “Fuck it. Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh, Slayer. You know better to than to ask that question,” Brooke replied.

And again, if I’d been so lucky as to obtain the wonderful, talented, motherfuckerly talents of Samuel L. Jackson, I’m sure he’d have said, “And these motherfuckers were about to find out.”

* * *

To follow along with Margie’s next adventures, click below for The Divorce From Hell!

* * *

The Divorce From Hell

Thank You!

Thank you so much for reading The High School Reunion From Hell. I had such a great time writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it.

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This book just poured out of me. The words were in my fingertips just begging to get out. I’m excited for you to see what happens next to Margie and her crew.

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