LISA

After watching Jennie sleep for a while, I gather her into my arms and carry her to our bedroom. She hugs on to my arms and rests her head against my chest. I gently lay her onto our bed and pull the covers up to her chest. I give her a soft kiss on the forehead and am about to turn and get myself ready for bed when she says something.

"Rosé," she mumbles.

Did she just . . . ? I stare at her, trying to replay the last three seconds in my mind. She didn't say—

"Rosé." She smiles, rolling onto her stomach. What the fuck?

Part of me wants to wake her up and demand to know why she would call her name—twice—in her sleep. The rest of me, the paranoid and fucking fed-up part of me, knows what she'd say. Jennie will tell me that I have nothing to worry about, that they're only friends, that she loves me. Some of that may be true, but she just said her name.

Hearing that asshole's name fall from her lips on top of fucking Jisoo and her certainty about her future—it's too much. I'm not certain of anything, not in the way she is, and Jennie obviously isn't sure about me either. Otherwise she wouldn't be dreaming of Rosé.

Grabbing paper and pen, I scribble out a note for her, leave it on the dresser, and head out into the night.

I TURN THE CAR toward the Canal Street Tavern. I don't want to go there in case Jackson and the group are still there, but there's a place close by where I used to drink all the time. Gotta love the state of Washington and the dumb-asses that never ID college kids.

Jennie's voice plays in my mind, warning me not to drink again after the last time, but I don't give a shit. I need a drink. I hear Rosé and Jisoo's voices next. Why does everyone around me think their opinions matter to me?

I'm not moving to Seattle—Jisoo and her shit advice can fuck off. Just because she wants to follow her girlfriend around doesn't mean that I want to. I can see it now: I pack my shit and move to Seattle with her, and two months later she decides she's had enough of my shit and she leaves me. In Seattle, it'll be her world, not mine, and I could be pushed out of it just as easily as I was brought in.

When I arrive at the bar, the music is low and there aren't many people inside. A familiar blonde stands behind the bar and looks at me with surprise, and interest, in her eyes.

"Long time, no see, Lisa. Miss me?" She grins and licks her full lips, remembering our nights together, I'm sure.

"Yeah, now give me a drink," I respond.