Page 47 of Whiskey Kisses

I shake my head again, not in the mood to rehash the increasingly complicated dynamic between Tristan and me.

“Girl, if you don’t start talking …”

I shrug. “I think he might’ve felt obligated to do something for my birthday. But we're not actually together, you know? It would have felt forced.”

“Or maybe it’s not that deep, and he wanted to do something because you’ve been friends a long time,” she says.

"Maybe," I say doubtfully.

Opal gives me a knowing look but doesn’t push it further. “Well, don’t dwell on all that because we've got dinner reservations at Sushi Sakura and then we're hitting up alllll our favorite bars. Tonight’s about you, babe.”

My mood lifts at the thought. Nothing like a night out with my best friend to get my head straight. “You're the best.” I lean against her, linking our arms. No matter what else is going on in my life, nights like this always make everything feel right again.

I’m feeling good.A little drunk, but good.

After dinner, Opal and I stopped by Ivy & Rose for their famous Ramos Gin Fizz. The rooftop bar was hopping, nothing like it was the day Tristan and I got married. I try not to think about that too much, but it’s tricky when I’m standing in the spot where we exchanged vows. Sometimes I still can’t believe I’m married to him. I can’t believe I’m married at all. Nothing about my life screams wedded bliss—I live with four guys, and my cats are the only ones warming my bed.

After leaving Ivy & Rose, we hit up a few other bars, toasting each other over fancy drinks, gossiping and dancing and catching up with friends. Despite its less than glowing start, it’s turned out to be a damn good birthday. Every time I remember that Aunt Myrtle left me her estate, my heart feels like it might burst. It couldn’t have come at a better time, too. Life has been one, big unpredictable mess lately, but I can’t deny that there have been a few sweet spots.

We save Honey Hive, my favorite, for last. Lane slides us a couple of lemon drop shots on the house when Opal tells him it’s my birthday, and then, despite my mortification, sings a rousing round of happy birthday that has everyone in earshot joining in.

Armed with fresh drinks, we settle down at a high-top table near the jukebox and take the requisite selfie. I’m digging through my wristlet, looking for quarters to feed the old-fashioned jukebox, when Opal cries, “Ha!”

I hum absently, vaguely bummed I have no quarters. Maybe Lane can give me change for a dollar. “You have any quarters, Ope?”

But she’s zeroed in on something behind me. “How’d I know that boy was gonna show up?”

I shoot a look over my shoulder, my heart glitching when I spot Tristan threading through the crowd, Finn and Malachi trailing closely behind. He’s wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt with Chelsea boots,and he looks so good that it gives me a stomachache.I’m married to that man,I think, slightly hysterically. And I can’t even have him.

Tristan’s eyes lock on mine, and he smiles just a little, raising his chin in acknowledgement. A sweet, warm flutter ripples through my body, and I whirl back to Opal, grabbing her hand across the table. “What’s he doing here?”

She smiles around her straw, giving me a playful eye roll. “You really thought he was just going to let you come out by yourself tonight? C’mon now, Evelyn.”

I blink, considering. That’s exactly what I’d thought. “Yeah, ‘cause he said?—”

“Shh.” She beams up at the boys crowding our high-top. “Look who’s here! What a coincidence!”

“Couldn’t let you two have all the fun, now could we?” Tristan’s irreverent wink pops me right between the ribs. “How’s it goin’, birthday girl?”

God, he’s cute. I can usually tell how much he’s been drinking by his speech patterns, and tonight he’s all Boston.

I grin, a little giddy. “It’s going great.”

He taps a finger against my glass. “Whatcha got?”

“A French ‘75,” I say, offering it to him.

He keeps his eyes on mine as he takes a sip, his fingers overlapping mine on the glass. “Not bad.”

Opal’s chatting it up with Finn and Malachi, so I twist in my seat to better face Tristan. My chair is pretty high up, so we’re almost level. “How’d you find us?”

“You told me that this was your favorite bar, so I figured you’d show up eventually.” He cracks a sly grin, his thighs brushing my knees. “But …”

My heart flip-flops at how close he is. “But what?”

“Evie, we’ve been following you two all night.”

“No way! How come we never saw you?”

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