Page 57 of Austen Persuaded

“Girl, I saw you!” he shouted.

I covered my ears and closed my eyes. “Why are you yelling at me?”

He stood and sauntered over, pursing his lips. “I’m not, but I should be. You got wasted last night, didn’t you?”

I stared at my best friend, mybestbest friend. If my head didn’t hurt so much, I’d glare at him, but it hurt to make facial expressions right now. “First of all, lower your damn voice. Second … are youjudgingme?”

His hands were on his hips as he nodded and then turned to start the coffee maker. “I’ll take pity on you though and get you some coffee and toast.”

Misery replaced my indignation, and I just nodded, ambled over to a kitchen stool, and then rested my head on my arms. He was probably right anyway—I’ve been relying on alcohol too much lately.

After a few minutes in silence, he placed a much-needed steaming coffee and buttery toast in front of me. “You went out with Cory and Stacy, didn’t you?”

My mouth full of toast, I shook my head.

Rafael narrowed his eyes.

When I finished chewing, I mumbled, “Just Stacy. Cory’s been sick or something.”

“Probably with liver disease,” he snickered.

I glared at him, even though it worsened the splitting headache I’d woken up with. “That’s not funny.”

“Sorry, you’re right.” After a moment of what appeared to be sincere regret, he scrutinized me with scrunched brows and demanded answers. “But what the hell, Annie? Why’d you call them instead of us? Rainn and I were sitting here in the apartment with nothing going on when we got your text that you were going out with a friend.”

Stalling, I took a sip of the coffee and then a few more.

Going out with Stacy last night had been a stupid idea, as it always was. Stacy and Cory were the friends I called when I wanted to party hard, to drown my sorrows or work off some rage, to get completely wasted and forget everything and everyone. In college, we were all friends, but Rafael and Rainn had started distancing themselves a year or so ago, claiming they’d outgrown the lifestyle of constant drunkenness and recklessness. I mostly agreed; I felt too old for this crap. But every now and then, the old life pulled at me, sucking me back in. It wasn’t the alcohol so much as the life of just … not caring, pretending nothing really mattered except having fun. The life my mother lived, basically. I flinched at the thought, and not for the first time. This was always my thought the morning after. But this time, drinking with Stacy hadn’t been fun at all. I hadn’t blocked out any of the feelings I wanted to forget, I couldn’t muster any desire to hook up with a new guy, and I couldn’t even look back and say the hangover was slightly worth it. Not even a little.

Rafael reached out slowly and took my hand, squeezing it briefly before letting it go. “It wasn’t even worth it, was it? Sorry, girl.”

“How are you a mind reader?” I asked, shaking my head in disbelief.

“I’m not. But I know my girl.” He sat on the stool next to me. “What I don’t know is what led to this. Last night was the book club. Was it that bad? I don’t see how it could go that wrong—”

“It was a success by all measures. Twenty-eight people showed up. By and large, everyone seemed engaged and interested,” I said flatly, using my finger to gather up the crumbs left up on my plate.

“OK, then …” his voice trailed off as he eyed me patiently.

“He was there.”

“Who?”

I raised my eyes to meet his.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“How—why—”

“It was just chance. He wasn’t following me or anything weird. He likes books and so do I. Just my bad, bad, bad luck,” I said, punctuating the last “bad” by stomping my foot on the ground as I rose to put my plate and cup in the sink. But I winced, realizing that although the food and caffeine had begun to help my headache, it hadn’t vanished.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Rafael said casually. “Want to talk about my wedding instead?”

I turned and leaned back against the counter, regarding him thoughtfully. “Yes, please.”

An hour later, we were eating chocolate on the couch, laptops perched on our laps. “Oh, Raf, this is classic you and me. What’s Joel going to think when we tell him we spent the morning finding your honeymoon destination instead of your wedding venue?”

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