JULIA
Sarah’s car sputtered to life after what felt like an eternity of cranking the engine. The thing felt like it was held together by willpower and occasional prayer. Maybe I should have taken up the men’s offers to drive us home.
Still, it was running, so I guess that was better than nothing.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, Sarah let out an exaggerated squeal, gripping the steering wheel like she was on a rollercoaster. “This is better than any romance book I’ve ever read,” she said, vibrating in her seat. “Like, what the f**k? Two ridiculously handsome men fighting over you? This is the kind of drama I live for.”
I rolled my eyes, slumping in my seat. “They’re not fighting over me, Sarah.”
She shot me a look, her eyebrows raised quite high. “Keep telling yourself that.”
I
