She sits up too, a lot slower than I did. “They were in my fridge. They weren’t that good. My mom sucks at baking.”

“Heidi.” I shuffle on my knees until I’m in front of her. Reaching out, I shake her shoulders, hating that her hair stays as perfect as her face while I do it. “Is there weed in those brownies?”

She slaps my hand away, scowling at me. “Why the hell would there be weed? It’s just my parents at home. Why would they have weed brownies? Why is it called weed? And what is brown?”

Amanda chuckles. “Heidi’s parents are stoners.”

“Shut up,” Heidi retorts, her face paling as realization sets in.

Mikayla gasps. “We’re stoners!”

Heidi clicks her tongue. “You’re all full of shit,” she says, swaying on her feet when she stands up. She walks over to her gigantic bag. “Let me do your face now.”

“With your vagina?” Lucy asks.

“Luce!” Heidi squeals.

Lucy sighs. “I have such strange lesbian tendencies. I apologize.”

We all giggle like schoolgirls, watching Heidi attempt to apply make up on Mikayla’s face.

“You look like a clown!” Amanda shouts. She’s louder than Lucy.

“A sexy clown,” I add, seeing Micky’s frown.

“You look like a fucking whore!” Lucy yells.

Micky gasps. “Fuck off. I’d rather be a lesbian with Roxy than with you!”

Lucy’s gasp matches Micky’s. “That was a low blow.”

Micky’s gaze drops, her frown back in place. “It was. I’m sorry.”

“Who’s Roxy?” I ask, fisting a bunch of compacts in Heidi’s bag. I pull them out and drop them on my lap. Then I open one—blue eye shadow. I smear it across my lips and find a brush to apply what I think is blush across my entire face. Because my mind tells me to. And the brush feels so damn good against my skin.

Lucy says, “Roxy is a fucking cunt of a whore and we shall never speak her name again.”

“Yeah, Riley,” Amanda spits. “Her name is Dylan.”

“I thought her name was Roxy,” I mumble using a tube of mascara to paint my nails.

Heidi turns to me. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?”

Amanda giggles.

Out of nowhere, Lucy says, “Hey. Is Dylan a moaner?”

I throw a brush at her face. “What?”

“A moaner,” she says, ignoring the brush. “In bed, I mean. Like… does he moan?”

“I bet he’s just silent,” Kayla says.

“He’s not a moaner,” I snap.

And they all shut their mouths and looks down at their hands.

I add, “He’s more of a grunter.”

Lucy tries to stifle her laugh.

“And a talker.”

“Dylan talks?” Amanda shouts.

“Yeah, he says dirty, filthy shit in my ear right before I come.”

“So hot,” Lucy mumbles.

“Dylan talks?” Amanda shouts again.

Micky laughs.

“He never did that with me,” Heidi murmurs.

Lucy scoffs. “As if you’d be into that anyway.”

Heidi shrugs. “True.”

I nudge Heidi’s elbow. “You missed out, Heids.”

“I bet you’re missing the D,” Micky says.

“I miss him a lot,” I admit.

Lucy laughs. “Not D, as in Dylan. She means The D. As in The Dick.”

My eyes widen. “Oh.” Then I shrug. “Not as much as I miss him.”

“It must be hard,” Lucy says, a seriousness taking over. “Cam and I spent a few weeks apart and it was hell.”

“I had a year away from Logan,” Amanda chimes in.

“A few days, max, for me and Jake,” Kayla says.

Heidi asks, “What do you miss the most?”

For a moment, I wonder why she’s asking… if it’s because she’s trying to compare us to see who missed him more. She must realize what I’m thinking because she adds, “I just thought you might like to talk about him. Lucy’s right. It must be so hard.” She smiles, warm and gentle. And I know right away there isn’t a single ounce of malice in her words.

She’s trying to cross a bridge, and I choose to meet her in the middle.

I suck in a breath and let it out in a whoosh as I lie back down. The others follow.

“I miss everything about him. I miss the way he touches me, the way he smells, the sound of his voice—”

“Dylan talks?!” Amanda yells again, and I laugh.

“He talks a lot,” I tell her. “And he’s funny. So funny.”

“Dylan’s funny?!” she shouts.

We laugh as one, mine ending sooner than the others. I’d done everything I could to ignore how much I’ve been missing him lately but the days are just as hard as the nights now and I’ve tried not to think about what he’s doing and where he is and if he’s safe. I try not to get angry when I think about how hard it is for him to call, just once, just so I can hear his voice and tell him I love him. I tell the girls all this without realizing it, but they never interrupt, never ask questions.

I wipe my eyes, the pain of longing unbearable. I release another round of tears. Another sob. I’m not the only one crying now, but we do it quietly. Together but apart. “I’m so grateful that he gave me you guys, too, because I don’t know that I’d be able to get through all this without you and the boys and I appreciate you all so much and I’m sorry if I’ve never told you that.”

Next to me, Kayla lifts her head. She smiles but she doesn’t speak.

I add, “I think, what I miss most, is the way he makes me feel. I don’t think he even realizes how important he is in my life. He was my strength when I had none and sometimes I find myself getting lost and I have to dig deep to find my way back. The only way I can do that is because he’s shown me that I can. He has this way of making me smile, making me happy. He makes me laugh when I feel like I can’t. But the best part is that when I believed it to be impossible, he made me love again.”

Kayla takes my hand, holding it between us as we lay on our backs, looking up at the ceiling. “He’ll come back to you, Riley. He loves you so much.”

“He made you a car,” Lucy says.

“And gave you his home,” Amanda chimes in.

On the other side of me Heidi sighs. “But Riley knows. Right, Riley?”

“Knows what?” I ask, rolling my head to face her.

“That it’s not about him giving you a car or a house. Those are just material things—things Dylan doesn’t care about. That was just his way of showing it.”

“Showing what?” I whisper.

Her eyes lock on mine. “That he loves you and that he’s creating a future with you, Riley. One that he plans on lasting forever.”

Thirty-Six

Riley

I wake to Sydney in my bed. She wasn’t there last night.

She’s smiling, creepily. Real creepily.

Honestly, it wasn’t really a surprise to find her here. Eric had a key to the house and she did tell me she had plans for a belated birthday celebration.