Page 52 of Don't Think

“I, Allison Lorraine Windsor,” I repeat, flat and unamused.

“Am a hot-ass bitch who’s going to steal someone’s man tonight,” Ana says with a grin.

I wince, shaking my head. “Nope. I’m not saying that.”

She laughs, gripping my shoulders again. “Okay, okay”—she pauses—“then just say:Am a hot-ass bitch.”

“Am a hot-ass bitch,” I deadpan.

“Allie, I swear to God.” She spins me around and points at Nora. “You’re freaking out over your little black dress, which, for the record, covers everything, but look at Nora.”

Nora glances up from the bed. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” she asks, rising to check herself in the mirror.

Her red pleather dress hikes up as she straightens, basically flashing her entire ass.

“Nothing,” Ana says, dead serious. “I’m just saying your dress is way more revealing and you feel good, right?”

Nora tosses her hair in the mirror. “Right.”

“Exactly my point,” Ana says, hands on hips. “So, we’re gonna go out, have some drinks, look hot, and forget the night by tomorrow,” she finishes, leaving no room for argument.

I sigh louder than necessary, and glance back at my reflection.

Honestly, I should’ve just worn the damn leather pants. This dress? It’s doingnothingfor me. All those imperfections I managed to ignore at the concert? They’re way too bright to hide tonight.

No matter how hard I try to suck it in, my mom pouch refuses to behave. Which, in turn, echoes Trevor’s voice in my head from every time he asked me if I was pregnantyet again. It was always with the same tone—more accusing than anything.

And my thighs are already rubbing together like they’re plotting against me.

This is a bad idea.

“Allie?” Ana’s voice softens as she steps closer. When I glance over, she tilts her head and gently brushes my hair off my shoulder. “Bucket list.”

Ugh. That damn bucket list is going to be the death of me.

I manage a small smile and nod, even though every alarm in my brain is screaming for leggings and a baggy T-shirt. “Okay. Fine.”

Her eyes light up before she lunges, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispers.

I hug her back, trying to match her enthusiasm, but that nagging feeling doesn’t ease up. Because deep down, I know it’s just me needing to forget the way Trevor ruined my self-worth. But how can you forget something like that?

We were together since we were practically kids. Ifhegrew to find me revolting, then…

“Hey,” Ana cuts through my spiral, nudging my elbow with a mischievous grin spreading across her lips. “Maybe you’ll even turn some heads tonight. Maybe even a particularWelshone if you’re lucky.”

I shoot her a side-eye in the mirror. “Yeah, right. He said there’s a bar downstairs in their hotel. There’s no reason he’d come all the way to this side of the city.”

“Never say never,” Ana says with a shrug. “You two seem to be getting close. I wouldn’t be surprised if he drove here just on a chance.”

I narrow my eyes at her, unsure of what exactly she means by “getting closer.” Then I remember our moment in the kitchen when the lights went out. I really thought he was going to kiss me that night, but he never tried again. So, clearly, that was just my brain making me see things that aren’t really there.

“You can lock that thought away in your brain,” I say, gesturing toward her head, because clearly something’s loose up there.

“Aw, come on, Allie,” she says with a chuckle. “You can’t tell me you don’t see the way he looks at you. Like you’re the reason the freakin’ Earth spins.”

“He does not—”