Hold the Forevers

“I have an eight a.m. panel,” I reminded her.

“So do I! Come down to the hotel bar with me. We can do Bourbon tomorrow.”

“Blah. I don’t know. I need to go over my presentation again.”

It was my first physical therapy conference, and I was set to present my research at a panel in the morning. I was both overly confident and nervous as hell. I knew that drinking wouldn’t help anything. I should look over my slides and call it a night.

“One drink,” Trish begged. “Your boyfriend can’t be mad about one drink.”

I laughed. “Ash doesn’t care if I drink.”

“Really?” She flopped down on the bed next to me. “I thought he was, like, super possessive, and that’s why you never go out with us.”

“I’ve gone out with you,” I said. At least once or twice. “I’m just busy. Between school and working as a tech and athletic training, I’m wiped.”

“Well, you don’t have those excuses today. Text your boy-toy that we’re going out and not to wait up.”

I shook my head at Trish’s enthusiasm. I hadn’t realized how much of a hermit I’d become in school. I was constantly juggling too much at once and retreated into myself. I needed to be better about that.

“Fine, I’ll go. One drink at the bar.”

“Bourbon tomorrow?”

“If you’re lucky.”

Trish cackled and headed to her room as I rummaged through my suitcase for something to wear. I settled on black skinny jeans and a black square-cut top that I’d planned to wear on Bourbon because it made my boobs look amazing. I paired the outfit with red high heels, touched up my hair and makeup, and then went next door to find Trish.

“Girl!” she gushed. “So fucking hot.”

“Thanks. You look great too.”

She looked like she was single and ready to mingle in the tiniest little black dress I’d ever seen. But somehow, it worked on her.

We went downstairs with three other girls from our school and settled into a booth in the back of the bar. I’d texted Ash when I was heading out the door, and I got his response as we were ordering drinks.

Have a good time. Call when you’re back in your room?

Will do. It’s only going to be one drink.

“Vodka tonic,” I said, stashing my phone.

“No! We’re in New Orleans. We need something fun,” Trish insisted.

“You order for us then,” Mazie said.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

An enormous red drink was planted in front of me. My eyes widened. “What the hell is this?”

“Hurricane,” Trish said. “I got them for everyone.”

“When I said one drink, I didn’t exactly mean this.”

Trish shrugged. “Should have been more specific then.”

She held her drink aloft, and we all cheers’d to the weekend. I decided to kick it back. It wasn’t like my presentation was going to make or break my career. It was important, but I was here in New Orleans. It was the first time I’d been here since I’d road-tripped with Channing for the Georgia–LSU game sophomore year. We’d gotten shit-faced all weekend, and I’d snuck into Cole’s football hotel to have sex with him after we won the game. Different time.

When I finished my drink, I was super buzzed. “What the hell is in this?”

“Rum.”

I blinked at Trish. “How much?”

She shrugged. “A lot.”

“Fuck. I need to get a water to survive.”

She patted my back. Mazie let me scoot out of the booth. On wobbly legs, I traipsed across the room to the U-shaped bar, regretting my heel choice and the choice of alcohol. The Hurricane hadn’t even tasted like it had alcohol in it. I’d sipped it down like it was Kool-Aid. What a dangerous beverage.

I leaned against the bar and requested a water from the cute bartender. He slid it across to me. I took a careful sip, trying to clear my head, and stared hard at the guy seated across the bar from me. I blinked. No way. It looked like Cole’s college roommate Tony.

Well, I had to see for myself. I walked around the bar and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Lila? Holy shit!” Tony said. “What the fuck are you doing here, babe?”

We hugged tight. It had been four years since I’d seen him. I’d thought he was in Atlanta.

“What are you doing in New Orleans?” he asked.

“I’m at the PT conference at this hotel. I thought you were in Atlanta.”

“I was, but I moved here with my fiancée last year.”

“Oh my God, congratulations!”

“Thanks,” he said with a megawatt smile. “It’s pretty amazing. She works for a distillery here, and I’m in computer tech now.”

“That sounds awesome. So very you. It’s crazy to see you here. What are you doing at the hotel?”

He opened his mouth to answer and then laughed, tipping his head behind him. I whipped around, and there was my answer.

“Cole,” I whispered.

He stood a few feet away, staring at me as if he’d seen a ghost.