Page 20 of Win Big

She was supposed to share a bed with Taylor that night, but Taylor and JP ended up there so she was bedless. Which is where I came in. “So you’re sleeping with Taylor.”

“You make it sound dirty.”

“Nope. Sounds fun to me.”

“Oh my God.”

I laugh. “What’s wrong with a threesome?”

“There’d be nothing wrong with it, if it was two men.”

Whoa. “I’m not into dudes, but I’ll try anything once.”

She bursts out laughing. “Geez, I thought that would turn you off.”

Once again our eyes meet and hold. The air thickens around us. “Is that what you were trying to do?”

Before she can answer, Théo appears, followed by Lacey and Taylor with full wineglasses.

“I brought the bottle,” Lacey says, setting it in front of Everly. “Because I knew you’d need a refill in about two minutes.”

Everly laughs and reaches for it. “Why not? I’m not driving anywhere.”

“My place is definitely walking distance,” I say with a wink. “Just keep it in mind.”

5

EVERLY

No,I didn’t spend the night at Wyatt’s place again, tempting as it was. I was a good girl, like I always try to be, and kept to my side of the bed I shared with Taylor.

But I was thinking about him.

I’ve been thinking about him a lot in the week since then. Now it’s the night before the Birds Banquet and I’m not just thinking about Wyatt, I’m thinking about a million things. This is the biggest fundraiser of the year for the Foundation.

What if no one comes tomorrow night? What if we’ve done all this work for nothing?

What if people do come, but the food is awful? What if one of the chefs doesn’t show up? What if there’s a fire and we have to evacuate the arena?

I know these things are ridiculous. Of course I know it. I just can’t stop thinking them.

It’s how I roll.

What if I slept with Wyatt and he told the whole team I’m an über slut and everyone hates me and mocks me?

What if I get to the banquet and I go completely tongue-tied and have no idea what to say to anyone? I picture myselfhiding in the ladies’ room all evening because I’m too terrified to interact with people.

My breathing is getting faster. My heart rate accelerates.

I slip my earbuds in and turn on my brain music, as I call it. I lay down on my yoga mat in my bedroom and close my eyes, focusing on breathing all the way into my belly.

As a kid, I always worried. I used to think about my homework when I lay in bed in case I forgot something. If Dad was out late, I worried that something happened to him. I worried that our house would catch fire. I always wanted to know what was going to happen next, tomorrow, tonight, this afternoon.

It wasn’t really a problem until I was a teenager. Until I made the worst decision of my life. Until Mom and Dad had to get involved with aspects of my life I never wanted them to. After that, I had a hard time living with how I’d failed them.

Then my crazy catastrophizing started to interfere with my life. I nearly missed an exam in college because I couldn’t make myself leave the house. I missed parties. I couldn’t pick up the phone to make a doctor’s appointment, even though I knew I needed to. My first panic attack landed me in the hospital. It was embarrassing, but also a relief to know what was wrong, and it pushed me to get help.

I think about the guests who are coming tomorrow night, mentally matching names to faces, trying to remember facts about the people I know so I can make small talk with them. I review my lists in my head. I’ve already double- and triple-checked things, but maybe I’ve forgotten some detail...

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