Delilah Green Doesn't Care(Bright Falls #1)(4)



“Wish I could,” Delilah said as she edged toward the door. The offer was tempting, but her brain was already gone, back at her apartment, running through what the hell kind of clothes she needed to pack for this wedding and all the brunches and showers and, dear god, bachelorette parties Astrid had planned.

Astrid and her posse of mean girls.

London’s face fell. “Oh. Okay, well . . . text me?”

Delilah turned her back to the woman and headed into the hallway. She lifted a hand as she opened the front door. “Absolutely. Will do.”

She knew she wouldn’t though.

She never did.

On the subway ride back to her apartment in Bed-Stuy, it settled on her, the reality of what she was about to do. Going back to Bright Falls was one thing, but spending two weeks at Astrid and Isabel’s beck and call? That was quite another.

And Delilah had absolutely no intention of making it easy for them.





Chapter Two




CLAIRE DRAINED HER wineglass for the second time that night, then set it down on the rough wooden table a little too hard.

“Relax,” Iris said, sitting across from her, stirring the orange in her vodka soda.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Claire asked, tipping some more Syrah into her glass. She knew she’d regret it—red wine always gave her a headache—but Ruby was spending the night over at Josh’s apartment for the first time in two years, and she’d told Iris she wanted to go out, clear her head, get away from Josh and his relentless I’m a great guy! smile and sparkling hazel eyes. So here she was, half drunk at Stella’s Tavern, Bright Falls’s only bar, while the neon jukebox in the corner piped out horrible country music and she tried not to hyperventilate.

“I don’t think the alcohol’s doing the trick,” Iris said. She turned her head and surveyed the crowd, which consisted mostly of guys playing pool and a bunch of college students home for the summer.

“No, I don’t think it is.”

“You want to go somewhere else?” Iris squeezed her hand. “We could just go back to your place and watch a movie.”

Claire shook her head. She felt jittery, like that time she and Josh had tried pot during their senior year in high school and her heart raced at a thousand beats per minute for the next two hours. She had to get some energy out, and sitting on a couch drinking and eating leftover pizza wasn’t going to cut it.

“I just need a distraction,” she said.

Iris’s eyebrows popped up. “What kind of distraction?” Her voice was teasing, and Claire knew exactly what direction her friend was headed. Iris was always reading one romance novel or another, and was famous for constantly trying to cultivate happily ever afters for her friends, even if just for one night. “Like . . .” Iris rolled her hand over and over, prodding Claire to go on.

Claire rolled her eyes but smiled. “Okay, yes, fine. That kind of distraction.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Iris clapped her hands once, then rubbed her palms like some wicked villain. “Yes! It’s been forever since we got you laid.”

Claire shushed her and leaned forward. “Keep it down, will you?”

“Keeping it down isn’t going to land you in the sack with someone.”

“Oh my god, will you—”

“Hey, Bright Falls!” Iris called, cupping her hands around her mouth as she stood up. Heads swiveled toward her, mouths already smiling like they did anytime Iris Kelly spoke up. “Who wants a chance with this fine-looking lady next to me! She’s in desperate need of a good fu—”

“Iris, oh my god.” Claire tugged on her best friend’s gauzy tank top, half hoping she ripped the hem in the process. Iris plunked down into her chair while Claire’s face burned like the center of the sun. Everyone stared, and more than a few lifted a brow in her direction. Matthew Tilden, who used to make extremely inappropriate comments about Claire’s ass back in middle school, turned around on his barstool and tipped his beer toward her, while Hannah Li, a kindergarten teacher, for god’s sake, smiled so prettily before lowering her long lashes to her cheek, Claire’s stomach flipped.

“What the hell, Ris?” Claire asked.

“I thought you wanted to meet someone?” Iris said, her smile dropping away as she leaned across the table, her fiery red hair falling into her face. Iris did everything at one thousand percent, while Claire simmered at around ten.

“I did. I do. It’s just . . .” Claire sighed. She wasn’t great at this. Dating. Romance. Sex. She’d never had a one-night stand, never had a fuck buddy. She’d had a kid at nineteen; she didn’t have time for fuck buddies. But lately, she’d been thinking about trying to date again. Thinking. She hadn’t acted on anything. She hadn’t had the time. Between running the bookstore and parenting a preteen, she collapsed into bed every night around ten, as soon as Ruby was asleep.

“How long has it been?” Iris asked.

Claire’s mouth opened, then snapped shut quickly. It had been a while. No, longer than a while.

“Uh-huh,” Iris said. “A long-ass time. Who was it?”

“What?”

“The last person you slept with. Hell, the last person you went on a date with.”

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