Leila's POV
By the time I walked through my apartment door that Sunday evening, I felt like I'd been run over by a freight train made of billionaires, champagne, and terrible decisions.
I tossed my bag onto the couch and collapsed face-first into the cushions, letting out a groan that sounded half-human, half-dying-walrus. My body was buzzing with exhaustion, embarrassment, and a low-level panic that wouldn't quit no matter how many deep breaths I took.
"Girl."
I lifted my head just enough to see Zara standing by the doorway, arms crossed, eyes wide with the kind of expression that could either mean oh my God, you're glowing or what the hell did you do?
Spoiler alert, it was the second one.
"You look like someone who's either had the best weekend of her life... or the absolute worst,
