“I think there’s someone out there waiting for you, Cass.”

“I’m tired of waiting.”

Cassie had never said anything like this before. She always looked forward to fun times and wild nights, sometimes not remembering the specific details of them in the morning. Sometimes, she didn’t even remember their names.

“You deserve the kind of love and friendship you have given me. I’m so lucky to have you.”

“Me too, babe.” She emptied her glass and looked off into the distance—wondering, thinking, hoping. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve just been a cynic for all these years. Maybe I do believe init, you know? Maybe there’s something to all this ‘meant to be’ stuff.”

“I think it’s better to believe in it. What woman doesn’t want real romance or true love in their life?”

Cassie snorted a tiny laugh.

“Okay,” I said. “You. But really, Cass? Don’t you want it?”

“Sometimes.”

“If I didn’t know what I know now—about loving Chris—I might agree with you. But now that I’ve lived it . . . experienced it . . . there’s no way I could go back to the old way of thinking.”

“Micky!” she called.

When he came over, she leaned forward, “We want some shots.”

“Shots?” I asked.

“Yes! We are celebrating.”

“What are you celebrating, love?” Micky asked.

Cassie smacked the bar top. “Love! And soulmates!” she yelled. “Can you make us a couple of Red-Headed Sluts?”

“Cassie!”

“What?” She giggled. “I like them!”

I shrugged and told Micky, “Whatever she wants.”

“And friendship!” Cassie added, clutching my hand in hers. “We’re celebrating friendship too.”

“Best friendship,” I agreed.

Chapter Twelve

Emily

“Those mozzarella sticks and calamari did not taste as good coming up as they did going down,” I said, walking out of Cassie’s bathroom the next morning.

“You threw up?” Cassie asked, pulling herself out of her bed.

“Yeah. Whose bright idea was it to do those shots after three glasses of wine?”

Cassie raised her hand guiltily. “I only meant for us to do one. But the first was so yummy I wanted another. Sorry.”

“It was worth it,” I said. “I haven’t been hung over like this in a long time.”

“Me either.”

I tossed the bottle of aspirin to her.