Page 7 of More For Me

Everly tenses and I want to punch this guy. She’s never comfortable with people talking about her family’s money. Or her father’s fame. Every one of the Ransome offspring have dealt with their share of assholes over the years, people who would use them and their family connections for their own purposes. She’s told me, more than once, how difficult she’s found it to make true friends outside of her family.

Which is a freaking travesty, because Everly Ransom is the most friendly, social, amazing person I know.

That’s also one of the reasons I’ve been so hesitant to rock the boat with us by hinting that I might want more. The idea of doing anything to make her pull away from our friendship kills me.

“Why don’t you ask the bartender,” Everly says tightly. “I’m sure he can give you all the options.”

“Right, right.” The bartender I’ve been waiting on is still slammed so Trey heads down the bar to try and get another bartender’s attention—without asking if she wants anything. I meet her eyes.

What the hell are you doing with him, Lele?

“Anyhow,” she says, her voice falsely bright. “I just wanted to tell you that you look great. And I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“Areyouhaving fun?” I blurt out, then immediately regret it. I’ve developed some rules for dealing with Everly, and the first one is this: don’t push. I try to make my tone more casual. “I’ve barely seen you on the dance floor.”

She smiles, but I can tell it’s not genuine. “Trey isn’t much of a dancer.”

I roll my eyes. “Then you should ditch him and come dance with your family.”

She eyes his back, chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t think he’s going to stay much longer anyhow. He has an early meeting tomorrow.”

So, he’s not only an inconsiderate asshole with a stupid name, he’s also completely insane if he’s willing to give up even a minute with her looking the way she does tonight.

Don’t go there, man,I tell myself, fighting to keep my eyes off her body in that dress, focusing on her face, instead. “Whether he stays or goes, you should have fun tonight,” I say.

She shoots a wistful look to the dance floor, where Rose and Leo are wrapped around each other, and I realize that it might not just be the lack of dancing that’s affecting her vibe.

“They’ll only be gone for a week,” I say softly, and her gaze snaps over to me.

“I know. It’s barely any time at all.”

But I doubt it’s the honeymoon itself that she’s worried about. If there’s one thing I know about Everly, it’s this—the girl hates change. She’s as happy as anyone in this room for her cousin, but I know Rose’s marriage is making her feel nervous. She’d been the same way when Will got married, and a few weeks ago when River proposed to Jasmine. The worst was when Alex, her closest girlfriend, got engaged. It had required many pints of ice cream to take the strain out of her smile. There’s a part of her that’s terrified of being left behind.

I just wish she knew that I have no intentions of going anywhere.

“Everly—”

But the bartender I’ve been waiting on finally appears before me. “Sorry man, we’re a little slammed.”

“No problem.” I hold up my empty bottle. “Can I get another Bell’s? And a Cosmo, please.”

“Sure thing.”

He gets to work making the drinks and I turn back to Everly. “The uncles seem to be holding up okay,” I offer, eager to change the subject so I don’t tell her exactly what I think of her date.

Her smile is more genuine. “I think they’re coping with massive amounts of alcohol.” She gives a mock shudder. “Can you even imagine what my dad is going to be like when it’s one of his girls?”

“I think you need to resign yourself to a life of celibacy, babe,” I say. “Your dad is going to buy a shotgun.”

She giggles. “You should have heard him interrogating Trey. I swear he almost peed himself.”

Well done Reed Ransome,I think.

“So, Trey, huh?” I ask, trying to keep my voice casual. “I don’t think I’ve met this one.”

Of course, this isn’t the first time I’ve been subjected to seeing Everly with one of the losers she dates. That’s the biggest downside to living with her, honestly. It used to be even worse because she always wanted me to help her get ready—just like a good BFF should, right? I eventually had to put an end to that for the sake of my mental health. Now I try to arrange to not be home when I know she has a date.

“He’s new,” she says, sighing. “We met at the production offices. He’s in development at the network.”