“You look like hell,” Trina said a while later as we brought our empty plates to the sink. “I mean that in the nicest way possible, of course.”
I nodded, settling onto the couch. “I feel like hell. And I can’t seem to shut my brain off.”
Trina nodded, dropping to the couch next to me with two beers and handing one to me. “Well, that’s what I’m here for. Distraction duty.” She grinned, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, what’s the plan? Movies? Booze? Gossip? All of the above?”
I couldn’t help but smile at her energy. “Maybe all of the above.”
By the end of the morning, we were sprawled on the couch, wrapped in blankets, watching the ending credits of a cheesy rom-com that Trina insisted was a “guilty pleasure.” The beer was cold, the Oreos were a sweet distraction, and Trina’s
