Page 41 of Forbidden Hearts

“Most of them are,” Liam says. “Others are just friends of friends.”

Isabelle stares at me with a blank expression.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her.

“Everything is spinning,” she says.

“You’ve never taken shots before?” Liam asks.

Isabella shakes her head. “It’s the first time I drink alcohol.”

“Holy shit, you went for the kill on your first time. Good on you,” Liam says.

“What’s going on?” Abby asks. She and Gianna return with colorful bottles in each hand.

“Isabella isn’t feeling too hot,” I say.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Isabella says. She puts her hand over her mouth and looks at the ground.

“Let me get you to a restroom,” Abby says. She hands me two bottles and escorts Isabella to the house. “We’ll be right back,” she says over her shoulder.

“Was it the shots?” Gianna whispers once Abby and Isabella are a good distance away.

“Yeah. It turns out those shots were her introduction to alcohol,” Liam chuckles.

“Are you serious?” Gianna asks.

“Yup,” I say.

“Shit, I feel bad now. I’m gonna go check on her, too. I’ll be right back,” she says. She hands Liam her two drinks and runs after Abby and Isabella.

“And then there were two,” Liam says. “I don’t even like these girly drinks.”

“Same,” I say. “I’m more of a beer girl.”

“Really?” Liam raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I don’t drink very often, but the few times I do, I drink one or two beers.”

“Shit, you should’ve said something sooner. I can get us beers.” He puts his bottles on a nearby table, then grabs mine and puts them next to his. “The girls can have these when they return. I’ll get us beer.”

Before I can tell him I’m done drinking for the night, he takes off and runs to the house. A few minutes later, he returns with two beer bottles.

“Here you go,” he says, handing me a bottle. “I opened it for you.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what are you up to this weekend? I mean, other than this party.”

“Just visiting my mom and studying I guess,” I say.

Seeing Mom every weekend has become a big part of my schedule. It’s the main reason I never go out with friends on weekends. Mornings are for Mom, nights are—were—for Jacob.

I shudder just thinking about him. Maybe Idoneed another drink.

I sip the beer, letting the cold alcohol ease my mind. It’s a good night. I recently quit The Den for good, and now I have a group of quirky friends. Life is good. Better.

A few sips later, I begin to wonder where the girls are.

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