Chapter Seven
“Remind me why I let you convince me to come to this thing,” I say, groaning and leaning my head against the sleek leather of Iris’s passenger seat as she swings her car into a parking spot at The Depot.
When she cuts the engine but doesn’t move to get out of the car, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel instead, I look at her. The bangs of her pixie cut hide her eyes, so all I see are the tips of her dark eyelashes fluttering against her high cheekbones, and a long, silver earring shimmering against her brown skin. “I thought I was the one who didn’t want to go inside.”
She stills her hands and stares at her fingernails. This week’s manicure color is a deep, dark purple that in the dimly lit car looks almost black. “You know if I had the money, I’d give it to y
