“If it makes you feel any better, I have to present the board I’ve been working on in New York next week. Thinking about it makes me want to vomit, so it’s probably a good thing we’re drinking tonight. Make sure I drink just enough to forget about it, will you?”

We hail a taxi and continue complaining about our upcoming week as it drives through rush hour traffic, moving only a few feet between stops. It would be annoying if I was alone, but the company makes it tolerable.

“If you want to get out of going to New York, I’ll gladly take your place,” she remarks as we pull in front of Charlie’s.

“Would you give up your baby, Reece?”

She lifts a brow. “That’s an odd question since I don’t have a baby and all. Or even a man to make a baby with.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“It’s the end of a very long week. I’m not in the mood to read between the lines.”

“Point taken,” I say, handing the driver some cash before climbing out of the car. “What I was trying to say is I’ve put so much into this project that I’m not willing to give it up … not for anything. From beginning to end, it’s been mine.”

“Ah, well, I can’t say I’ve fallen in love with my current project yet, so I’d gladly give it up.”

We walk into Charlie’s, taking in the usual Friday crowd. It hasn’t changed much. Heads still turn when I walk in. It’s hard to escape when the ratio is ten men to each woman. They haven’t quite figured out that they have a ten percent chance of getting laid on a good night.

“Hey, pretty ladies. Are you looking for a place to sit?” asks one of the regulars at the bar as we walk by. He’s harmless enough, but I learned when I worked here that it’s best to ignore him.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Dana asks when she sees us coming. I don’t see her often anymore, and I feel like the worst friend in the world when I do.

I wrap my arms tightly around her. “I missed you.”

“And we need to get drunk,” Reece chimes in behind me.

“Well, you’re in the right place. What can I get you?”

“Shots,” Reece blurts before I get a chance. “Charlie will let you do one with us, won’t he?”

Dana gestures to Charlie then leans over the bar, whispering something to him.

He nods and lines three shot glasses on the bar, filling them with an amber colored liquid.

“What’s that?” I ask, tracing my fingertip along the rim.

Charlie grins. “Fireball. Have one, and I promise you’ll be begging for a second then a third.”

“Let’s do this, girls!” Dana shouts, holding her glass in the air. Reece eyes me, watching until I pick mine up. “1 … 2 … 3”

I tilt my head back, pouring the liquid down my throat. It burns a little at first, but for the most part, it just tastes like cinnamon gum. It would be easy to disappear with the entire bottle and not know what hit me until I wake up the next morning.

“Again,” I choke, slamming my glass on the bar. I need to forget, even if it’s just tonight.

He fills my glass. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll call you a cab.”

I wink, hoping the other two don’t pick up on my regular habit.

After the third shot, the night blurs.

My head aches as I attempt to open my eyes. Drinking has become a form of self-punishment. The more pain I cause myself, the less guilt I feel. It’s my way of seeking repentance. Deep down, I know repentance will never be found at the bottom of a bottle, though.

The first thing I always do on mornings like this is try to recall what happened the night before.

I remember laughing. That was all Dana’s fault.

I remember arguing. Reece was on the receiving end of that.

And crying … the water works always start after the fourth or fifth drink.

Someone moans next to me causing me to squeal as I jump out of bed. “Damnit, Reece! Are you trying to kill me?” I scream, recognizing her as my departing gift from the bar. At least it’s not a nameless man.

“Please stop screaming. My head is going to explode any minute,” she says quietly, circling her temples with her fingertips.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles. “I don’t even remember how we got here, but I’m glad it was just you I woke up to.”

My head pounds, forcing me back to my pillow. “We’re never doing Fireball shots again. Ever.”

“Trust me. I’ll never suggest it.” She turns her head so we’re lying face to face. It reminds me of the sleepovers I had when I was younger. “What time is it anyway?”

I pinch my eyes closed, despising the bright sunlight that shines through the crack in the curtains. “Don’t make me look. I’d have to turn around, and I can’t commit to that right now.”

“At least it’s Saturday.”

“No doubt. The mood board may just have to wait until tomorrow.”

She sighs. “I’ve seen that thing a hundred times at least. It’s perfect … brilliant actually. Leave it alone.”

“It’s not really that. I have to be able to sell it to a group of wealthy, intelligent businessmen. What if they hate it?” I speak as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb the raging demons in my head.

“What does Pierce think?”

“He says he loves it.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” she says, curling the pillow under her head. We lay in silence for a few minutes; it’s nice to spend time with someone who doesn’t need to be entertained the entire time. “Are you ever going to be able to let him go?”

It takes a moment before her question registers. Between the lack of sleep and pounding hammer in my head, things aren’t adding up easily. “I never had him, Reece.”

“But you thought you did. Perception became your reality.”

“I know. I keep waiting for him to come back and say he made a huge mistake by leaving.”

“Has he called yet?” she asks, hesitantly.

It’s been a sore subject—me not being able to get ahold of him. I want to know that he’s okay if nothing else. “No.”

“After everything you’ve been through the last year, you may not believe this, but there’s someone better out there for you. Someday, you’re going to meet a guy who’ll stay by your side unconditionally.”

“That scares me actually,” I whisper.

“Why would that scare you?”

“Because to get to that point, I’m going to have to trust someone again. I just don’t think I can.”

She stares me straight in the eye. “There is one guy you trust.” My lips part, but she starts up again before I can say anything. “Maybe it’s time for you to give Pierce a real chance.”

I open my mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. If Blake hadn’t walked into my life, Pierce would be the one lying beside me in bed right now. I don’t doubt that for a second.

“I screwed up any chance we had a long time ago,” I say sadly.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

I think about the benefit. The night in New York. Frozen hot chocolate on Christmas Eve. I had chances but I gave them all up for Blake.

“I don’t know. I mean … I’ve done things. He’s done things. I don’t know.”

“Promise me one thing,” she says. “Promise me you’ll keep an open mind. I can’t stand to see you like this for much longer, and you’d hate to meet the guys I’d set you up with.”

I laugh which only makes me wince due to the massive headache last night gifted me. “Are you going to lend me one of your many book boyfriends?”

“Well, I’m not willing to give up any of them, but have you met the new guy in accounting?” she snorts. “The one with gold, wire-rimmed glasses and a hideous comb over complemented with a whole tube of gel.”

My nose crinkles on instinct. “You mean he’s bald?”

“Oh, he’s not bald. I just don’t think he’s made time for a haircut lately.” She giggles. “And, this is the best part, he wears white tube socks with black dress shoes and slacks.”

“He’s all yours,” I say, closing my eyes to ease my headache.