Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

RYLEE

T he smell of the tequila wafted up my nose and into my brain as I held the shot glass up and clinked it against Karen's. Her eyes narrowed on her shot until they were crossed, and she scrunched up her nose with dreaded anticipation. Meanwhile, I tipped my head back and downed it in one go, feeling the burn all the way down my throat to my belly.

Karen still had her perfectly full shot in her hand. "You're crazy, Rylee."

I laughed, stole her shot, and downed it too. "It'll put hair on your chest."

Her nose scrunched up even more. "Why would I want hair on my chest?"

After the grand opening of the library and Archer's incredible surprise proposal, my head was spinning. All of us—Lauren and Jameson, Jenny and Ward, Mary Ellen and Archer, Karen, and I—had gone out to celebrate at a bar not far from the library.

Karen and I were the loners. We were the single girls. The odd girls out. I was so glad she didn't have a man so she and I could stand in single solidarity together. That was horrible, but I didn't want to be the only one of the five of us to be single. My only hope was Karen wouldn't find a man until I did.

And I wasn't looking.

And Karen was too damn fussy.

"Another round!" Archer called out.

As we all raised our glasses for another round, I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had been lingering in the pit of my stomach all evening. The clinking of glasses and laughter around me felt distant, muffled in a way that made my head swim. Everything was changing—except me. I was still the same Rylee, slinging drinks at the bar and perfecting my mixology skills. I wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't going to find a rich dude to sweep me off my feet and move me into his mansion. At best, I would find a man that had a job and didn't fart or belch too often.

Not exactly high standards.

Karen nudged me, a look of concern on her face. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked over the din of the bar.

I forced a smile, trying to push away the dark thoughts threatening to engulf me. "Yeah, just a bit tired. It's been a long day."

But Karen wasn't convinced. She leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is it really just exhaustion, or is there something else bothering you?"

I hesitated, my gaze flickering toward our friends laughing and snuggling with their guys. "Yep, fine. Perfect. Just don't run off and get married on me, okay?"

She smiled, empathy softening her expression. "I don't think we have to worry about that happening anytime soon. I'm waiting for a service that allows me to order the perfect man. The guy that puts the seat down and actually puts his socks in the laundry basket. And it would be nice if he cleaned up his beard hair after he shaved."

The idea of a perfect man seemed like a far-off fairy tale to me. From where I was standing, my besties had snagged the last three good ones on the market. Jameson, Ward, and Archer were all the definition of good, stand-up, top quality dudes. Sure, they'd all had their blips along the away, but when push came to shove all three men made it very clear what their priority was—their women.

My girls, as I liked to think of them. But they weren't mine anymore. Not really.

It was late when Ward announced he got us a limo to take us back to the Big House. No one was ready to call it a night just yet. We were celebrating Mary Ellen's big moment, after all. She was the least likely to find a man and she ended up hooking up with the bad boy.

Everyone assumed I would be the one to fall in love with a biker with a criminal history. But nope, it was our sweet little Mary Ellen. Archer was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she to him. As we piled into the limo, she sidled up next to him, and he leaned in close to brush her hair behind her ear and whisper something spicy to her. I didn't hear it—their whispers were drowned out by the loud music and Ward calling to the driver to take us home—but I saw Mary Ellen blush, giggle, and take a fistful of Archer's shirt to plant a kiss on his lips.

My heart tightened up with envy.

I want that.

A short twenty minutes later, we stumbled out of the limo, looking like clowns at a circus piling out of a car, our faces flushed with the buzz of alcohol and excitement. I couldn't help but laugh at how unsteady we all were, leaning on each other for support as we made our way inside. Karen stopped to check the mail and made a disgusted sound.

"What's wrong?" I asked, hooking my arm through hers.

"This stupid subscription is impossible to cancel."

"I told you not to fall for that salesman's pitch," I reminded her.

"Yeah, yeah."

We walked into the house. Karen tossed the mail on the coffee table along with the magazine that had offended her. Everyone sprawled on the couches and chairs, canoodling and looking generally happy. I immediately assumed my role in the kitchen, making bespoke cocktails for my friends. It was my specialty.

I had paid close attention to what everyone was drinking at the bar and was careful not to mix their liquors—I knew how not to ruin people's nights. As I mixed and poured, I could hear snippets of conversation and laughter from the others. They were discussing Mary Ellen's wedding and what kind of dress she would wear. It seemed like an endless parade of weddings the last few months.

Always a bridesmaid and never a bride.

Not that I ever wanted to be a bride. At least that was what I would keep telling myself. It hurt too much to think I might never actually find a man. I knew I was a lot to handle. I could be a little wild. Okay, maybe a lot wild, but I loved life. I wanted to appreciate every minute of it.

"Rylee, you're the best," Jenny said as I handed her a drink. She was perched on Ward's lap, her arms draped around his neck.

"Seriously, these are amazing," Lauren added, raising her glass to me in a toast.

I grinned, feeling proud. This group was my chosen family, and I loved taking care of them. I served the last of the drinks and joined them in the dining room, where the couples were being, well, couple-y . Jenny and Ward looked inseparable, Mary Ellen and Archer were sharing little kisses and whispers, still giddy after their engagement, and Lauren and Jameson were joking about how they'd better get married before Archer and Mary Ellen beat them to it.

Archer, still grinning like a fool, spotted the magazine Karen had brought in. He picked it up and chuckled, holding it up for everyone to see. The cover featured a dangerously handsome man adjusting the cufflinks on his sleeves.

"Who's reading this?" Archer joked. "Someone looking for eligible bachelors in Dallas?"

"Oh god, Simon Locke," Karen said, rolling her eyes. "That's mine. He's a hottie, but he's also the biggest jerk in Houston. I've tried to cancel that subscription over and over. I swear, they dig around for the biggest assholes to put on that magazine."

"Hey, I was on that magazine," Jameson said.

"On brand," Mary Ellen teased. "You were an asshole back then. Or have you forgotten?"

Lauren snickered, and Jameson teasingly reminded her that she was supposed to have his back. She gave him an apologetic kiss.

"I've heard of Locke," Ward said. "Greedy and problematic, to say the least."

Jameson snorted. "The guy's known for being a loose cannon. He hits on reporters during interviews, gets caught up partying, and always ends up on social media for all the wrong reasons."

"Messy," I said, taking a sip of my drink. "No wonder he's still a bachelor. But he's hot. I might want a date with him—assuming he kept his mouth shut."

Everyone laughed and shared their own stories and opinions about Simon Locke. For a while, our conversation revolved around his latest shenanigans. As they continued to talk, I found myself looking around the room, thinking about how everyone seemed to be moving forward with their lives. And here I was, still right where I had been five years ago.

It was a sobering thought, one that lingered even as I laughed and joked with my friends. No one here expected me to settle down. I was expected to keep doing Rylee things. Partying, starting shit, and just taking the bull by the horns.

Simon Locke might be an asshole, but at least he had made something of himself. Could I say the same thing? I was a bartender—a good one—but where was my future heading? What was I going to do? Granted, I was only twenty-four and didn't feel like I needed to run the world, but I was aimless. I had no direction.

Lauren's voice broke through my thoughts. "Hey, Rylee, you okay?"

I forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, just thinking."

"About what?" Jenny asked, leaning forward with a curious expression.

"Oh, just life," I said lightly, trying to brush it off.

"Come on, spill," Karen said, nudging me with her elbow. "What's on your mind?"

I sighed, knowing they wouldn't stop until I answered. "I was just thinking about how everyone's moving forward with their lives, you know? And I'm still here ."

Mary Ellen smiled. "Rylee, you are destined to do amazing things."

"And your cocktails are pretty damn amazing too," Ward added with a grin.

"Seriously, Rylee," Archer said, his voice earnest. "We all have our paths, and yours is just as important as anyone else's. Don't sell yourself short."

I smiled, feeling a little better. They always knew how to lift me up. "Thanks, guys. Who's ready for another round?"

As I collected the empty glasses and headed back to the kitchen, I was grateful for my friends. Pouring another round of drinks, I couldn't help but wonder if maybe they were right. Maybe I was too hard on myself, expecting to have it all figured out at such a young age. I mixed and poured and put the glasses on a tray, then carried it into the living room. Hey, everybody had at least one talent. Maybe I found mine.

Yay, me. I can balance a tray of drinks on my hand. Big whoop.

As the night went on, the conversation drifted to lighter topics. We reminisced about old times, shared embarrassing stories, and made plans for the future. Mary Ellen and Archer talked about what kind of wedding they might have. It was good to see her happy. The girl had a rough go in the man department, but she got lucky with Archer.

Eventually, the couples started to make their way home. Eventually, it was just Karen and me. We looked at each other, both understanding how the other felt. Our once wild and crazy bachelorette pad was empty. It was just the two of us in this big-ass house.

I wasn't going to complain too much, considering the house was bought and paid for. When my hours were cut or tips were shitty, I didn't have to worry about making rent. It wasn't like we were going to get booted. But still. All the open space was unusually loud.

Karen stretched and yawned. "I think I'm going to call it a night too."

I nodded. "I'm going to clean up."

"I'll help."

"Nah, I've got it," I said. "Go get some rest."

She gave me a hug. "You're the best, Rylee. Night."

"Night, Karen."

I started to put away glasses and wipe down the counters. I put away the liquor bottles and mixers in the small bar in the corner. Although our friends had moved out, the Big House was still the hangout.

As I finished tidying up, peace settled over me. Yes, my friends were moving forward with their lives, but that didn't mean I was stuck. I was on my own path, and that was okay. Maybe I didn't have everything figured out yet, but I had time.

I turned off the kitchen light and headed upstairs. Again, I couldn't help but feel Karen and I had way too much space. The place felt hollow.

I went to my room and took a look at myself in the mirror. My makeup had slipped a little, smudging under my eyes. My black hair hung past my shoulders. I had put a small braid on one side, something I liked to do sometimes. I was wearing a pair of tight black jeans and a tank top with a giant tongue on it. Was this the look of a wife?

I laughed to myself. Correction. I laughed at myself.