“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” she says, biting her bottom lip as she watches her husband’s ass.
“You’re probably right,” my best friend mutters with a wince.
Auburn returns with my two suitcases. “Juliette, I’ll put your bags in your room.”
“You can leave the smaller one here,” I tell him. “It’s for Evie.”
“What did you do?” she asks suspiciously.
“You’ll see,” I tell her slyly, reaching for a toast point topped with smoked salmon, a thin slice of cucumber, and a fat cherry tomato.
After Auburn and Gianna leave, Evie pours us both a glass of crisp, white wine.
“Well, those two are hot as hell,” I comment.
“They are disgustingly steamy,” my friend adds. “And wait till you see Monty and Kassie again.” She leans closer and lowers her voice. “I think my little brother is a Dom.”
I fan my face and take a swig of my wine. Images flash through my mind of strong fingers digging into my hips, of that spanking, of the hand necklace.
Stop it, Juli. We’re not thinking about…him.
For the next two hours, my best friend and I talk a lot, cry a little, and laugh like maniacs. She fills in some more of the details of her disappearance as we drink enough wine to get deliciously tipsy. It’s the best reunion I could have imagined, like we’d never been apart. But we had.
“Okay, don’t think I’m weird, but…” I stand and grab the small floral suitcase Auburn left behind.
“Too late,” Evie shoots back with a grin. God, how I’ve missed her smile.
“I bought you a present every year on your birthday,” I admit, unzipping the suitcase.
“Juliiiiiii,” she whines. “You’re gonna make me cry.”
“Meh, don’t get all sappy on me. Most of them are kinda cheesy,” I tell her. “Well, this one is special.” I turn over my arm and show her my tattoo.
Her soft hand grips my wrist, and she rubs her thumb over the lilac. “You got a tattoo for me?”
“The other girls did too. On the first anniversary of your disappearance, which was right before your nineteenth birthday, so we got our ink right before your twentieth.”
Evie pulls me into a hard hug. We hold each other for a long while, and the tears return in full force. Then I pull back and give her a tremulous smile. “Okay, enough of that. On to birthday number twenty-one. This one willmake you laugh.”
We go through the gifts, year by year. Most of them aren’t really profound, just stuff like a cute pair of earrings, a turtle-printed pajama set, or quirky little things I knew she’d like.
“I still can’t believe you got me a cheese-flavored condom,” she says, falling over onto the couch in a fit of giggles with the foil packet held to her chest.
“It made me laugh when I saw it, and my first thought was that I wanted to call and tell you about it. So that was your gift for your twenty-third birthday.” I shrug. “That was over a decade ago, so I wouldn’t suggest using it.”
“Yeah, probably wouldn’t taste very fresh.” She holds it between two fingers and wiggles it. “But I’m gonna think about this every time I eat a bag of Cheetos.”
And I’ll think abouthimevery time I do. Damn, the things Reno Swain can do with a Cheeto.
Brushing away the thought, I pull out the final gift. “Here’s the last one. I had an artist draw it up for me earlier this year,” I tell her, handing over the flat package in lavender wrapping paper.
Evie tears open the paper like a kid on Christmas morning. Then her eyes fill with tears, and her voice cracks. “Juli, it’s us.”
The framed artwork shows two women from the back, one with long caramel hair and the other with long blonde hair. Arms around waists. Heads tilted slightly toward each other
“Sorry, your hair is different now,” I apologize.
“No, it’s us back then, and I love it.” She reads the calligraphed words aloud. “I may not always be there with you, but I will always be there for you.”
