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when we were younger.

My own lips curve with amusement. “What are you up to?”

He stands and holds his arms out wide, his voice boisterous. “I’m just a man who wants to enjoy his last single night.”

He’s up to something, that much is clear. I’m just not sure what. Either way, he’s right. It’s his party and we’ll do whatever he wants as long as it doesn’t break the law. “Fine.” I push to my feet. “We’ll move the party wherever you want.”

“Hell, yeah.” He grins, slinging his arm around mine. “Come on, Chase. Smile. It’ll do you good.”

26

Alicia

“More shots for the single ladies!” one of Jill’s coworkers screams above the current rendition of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” blasting from the speakers.

Our server holds out the tray of amber-orange cocktails, and most of the women from our group huddle around to take their glass.

“Drink up, bitches!” someone cheers, holding hers high before throwing it back.

I pass, of course, which earns me a few curious stares, but Jill’s friends are too polite to harass me about it. Or maybe they’re mature enough not to care. Either way, I’m grateful. I have no interest in sharing my life story. In my limited sober night-life experience, publicly claiming I’m a recovering alcoholic while in a bar tends to make people uncomfortable. Or they ask insanely personal questions. I’d like to avoid both.

Not that I frequent bars much these days.

As much as this isn’t my scene, I am happy to be here celebrating with Jill and Callie. And Chase’s girlfriend. Okay, so I’m not thrilled about that. A few people left after dinner and selfishly I hoped she’d be one of them. Alas, the universe is not that kind. She’s here, hanging out and acting like an all-around decent human. Because she is. Which is equally annoying. It would be easier to hate her if she was a bitch.

Fuck. In this scenario, I’m afraid I’m the villain. I abandoned Chase and my best friends. I had Chase’s baby and didn’t tell him until this week. She’s going to hate me once she finds out, and she’ll have every right.

“You okay?” Callie says, leaning forward so I can hear her over the crowd.

It’s a loaded question.

“I’m good.” I force a smile.

“If this bothers you and you need to bail early, Jill will totally understand.”

I wave off her concern. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“When you say you’re fine twice in the sentence, it usually means the opposite.” Callie wiggles her finger at me.

Nervous laughter bursts from my belly. “I am as fine as anyone can be in a karaoke bar.” And hanging with her baby daddy’s new girlfriend.

Callie scoots closer and bumps her hip against mine. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been steering clear of that microphone.”

“I am not much of a singer. You should know that.”

“Oh, no.” Callie shakes her head. “You used to be the queen of karaoke. You’ve only been gone a few years. That kind of talent doesn’t fade way. Don’t think I forgot.”

Maybe after a little liquid courage.

“I’m not sure my voice works the same when I’m not drunk,” I joke.

“Come on.” Callie takes my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze. “For old times’ sake, sing a duet with me?”

Before I can refuse, Jill slides between us. “What are you two talking about and why do I feel left out?”

“We were just deciding what we should sing together,” Callie interjects.

I shake my head and hold out my hands. “Oh, no. I did not agree to that.”

Jill’s face lights up. “Fuck, yeah! We have to do a song! The three of us!”

“You wouldn’t deny a bride at her bachelorette party, would you?” Callie grins in triumph.

Fuck. There is no way I’m getting out of this. Not without looking like a total dick. “Ugh. Fine but I get to pick the song.”

“Let’s do this!” Jill threads her arm through mine and marches us toward the stage.

My stomach tumbles with nerves. I really don’t have the best voice. Not that anyone in here cares. Still, I feel out of my element. My confidence is shaken after this week, and I’m having a hard time finding exactly where I fit in. With Jill and Callie. With Chase. With my family too.

The DJ lets us cut the line thanks to Jill’s bride-to-be status draped over her shoulder with a very non-Jill-like sash. I don’t know how Callie convinced her to wear it—not with all those rhinestones. I flip through the songbook searching for a fan favorite. My eyes land on “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls. What the hell. I point out our selection to the DJ.

Callie screams with delight and Jill laughs. At the very least I’ve made my friends happy.

Before I get a chance to rethink my decision, microphones are thrust into our hands and we’re shuffled onto the small stage. The shimmery foil streamer backdrop glitters from the disco ball overhead. Cheers and shouts of encouragement come from the crowd as the familiar beat drops.

Jill starts us off, shouting into the mic. Callie takes the next line, shaking her hips. The lyrics are so engrained in my memory that I don’t even have to glance at the screen. I smile and laugh with my girls, the ball of nerves in my gut loosening with each repeat of the chorus.

Who would have known?

I’m having fun.

Until I glance out into the crowd.

My stomach practically bottoms out. My breath catches. A rush of awareness courses through my body as I’m struck still. Because standing near the bar’s entrance is none other than Chase Matthews, and he’s staring back. Fuck, he’s delicious. His jeans hug his muscular legs and I have the sudden impulse to help him remove every button on his gray collared shirt. But mostly it’s his eyes. Deep, soulful, and intense. Entrancing me with their power.

Jill bumps my hip, pointing at the screen with the lyrics. Crap. I’ve stopped singing. I was too busy checking Chase out. Shit.

Finding my place

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