It was sad, really, that I had such a hard time deciding what to wear for a girls' night out. Well, what constituted a girls' night out in Neptune Bay, which included meeting up for food and drinks at Mara's house before hitting up The Watering Hole.

The summer dresses in my closet felt too fancy, and with the humidity that stuck around late into the evenings, jeans felt like they'd be too constricting. It was a conundrum, made worse by the fact that my dad had been right yesterday when he'd more or less told me that I needed to get a life. I hadn't really hung out with any of my friends in the last year—too stuck in my own grief and new routine that I'd failed to accept the olive branches they'd offered in support.

Tonight was the first step in changing that.

After trying on more outfits than I cared to admit, I settled on a maroon romper that'd been hanging in the back of my closet and paired it with a pair of gold sandals. It had three-quarter length sleeves, cinched at the waist, and cut off just above mid-thigh. Plus, it was super breathable and easy to move around in, which boded well for a warm summer night.

Deciding that I might as well go all out, I curled my hair loosely before styling it into a half-up half-down ponytail, and then applied a bit more makeup than I normally would. Some extra bronzer, eyeliner, and a nude lipstick brought out my features, and when I took a step back and looked in the mirror once I was done, I recognized the woman as someone who'd been hiding but was ready to step back out into the world

And I felt good.

Grabbing a clutch to store my phone, keys, and wallet, I veered into my kitchen to grab the bottle of rosé I'd stuck in the fridge after work, and then made my way over to Mara's.

All the while trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach and the small voice in the back of my end warning me an awkward night was in store.

Half a mile on foot wasn't exactly long enough to completely ward off my nerves, though the fresh air certainly helped. By the time I reached the front steps, I took a few seconds to myself, breathing out slowly before bringing my hand up to knock.

The door opened a moment later, revealing a partially surprised, but grinning Mara with a wine glass in hand. "Hey girl! Glad you could make it."

Laughs and music trickled out of the house, telling me I was likely one of the last to arrive.

"Thanks for the invite," I replied, already eased marginally by her greeting as I held up the bottle in my hands. "I brought wine."

"You and just about everyone else," she mused while accepting the present. "But still, thank you. Come on—" Stepping aside, she waved me in. "—I'll pour you a glass."

Following her, all eyes turned our way when we rounded the corner into her open concept living area.

"Look who's here," Mara said to the room, waving her hand my way and everyone was quick to offer a myriad of greetings.

While a few of the faces were unfamiliar, I recognized Mara's cousin, Faith, and was happy to see Jenny and Naomi, whom, similar to Mara, I'd begun to lose contact with over the last year. Shooting them all a smile, I told them I'd be back right, continuing over to the kitchen space on the other side of the room.

"Where's Sam?" I asked, realizing her high-school sweetheart and now-husband was nowhere to be seen.

"He's off at his brother's, so we have the house to ourselves for the night," she replied, placing the bottle on the kitchen island, along with her own drink before grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard for me. "Though I'm gonna be honest Sloane, I thought you'd be a no-show."

And I didn't blame her. I told her as much.

"Apparently I've become that predictable," I said, a sheepish expression gracing my features. "But I figured I'd shake things up tonight."

She lifted a brow. "What changed your mind?"

"Is it totally lame if I say my dad?"

Mara huffed out a laugh and shook her head. "Not at all, your dad's great. I still remember the pep talks he gave us when driving to our debate team matches. It was like he was talking to a pair of athletes instead of two brainiacs."

"Yeah, well I got another one of those pep talks yesterday morning," I drawled before explaining how my dad had more or less accused me of being a shut-in outside of work and visiting him.

"I mean, I'm not going to disagree," she started, pouring me a generous glass and pushing it across the counter. "You sort of closed yourself off early last summer, and understandably so, but after the dust settled, me and the girls wanted to start easing you back into the life you'd had before your mom's passing only to be shut out."

A stab of guilt made my chest feel heavy. "I'm sorry."

She waved me off. "Don't be. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. We get why you were acting that way, but in all honesty, I think it's well past time for you to have a little fun."

I hummed teasingly and took a sip of my drink. "Are you sure you haven't been talking to my dad?"

"Swear," she replied. "But if Papa Montgomery wants to finally see his daughter live a little, I think it's our duty to listen."

I laughed. "How crazy can a bunch of almost thirty-year-olds really get?"

"You'd be surprised."

***

Evidently, my friends definitely let themselves loose on girls' nights, because while I remembered having fun on nights out before, it was like closing in on the big three-oh had kicked most of these women into nostalgic partiers.

It felt like I was back at a college party—playing beer pong and flip cup, except we were using semi-decent wine instead of warm beer. Laughing and trading embarrassing stories. Dancing to throwback songs we took turns queuing on the playlist. Ordering way too many pizzas for the eight of us but still somehow managing to devour them all.

Honestly, it was a breath of fresh air—fun and a welcome break from my introverted tendencies as of late.

By the time we all walked into The Watering Hole just before ten, we were all slightly tipsy and drew a bit of attention as we made our way toward an open booth in the back.

"Hollis," Mara called a little too loudly while glancing over her shoulder toward the bar and gesturing to our table, "can we get a round when you have a sec?"

The man in question was in the middle of pouring drinks for a couple but shot her a bemused smile. "Give me five minutes."

"Please tell me it's not shots," I whispered, leaning closer to her after she gave him a thumbs up. I was already feeling a nice buzz, and that's all I really wanted. The clumsiness and sudden blanks in memories that came with getting black-out drunk didn't appeal to me in the slightest.

Shaking her head, she chuckled. "No, girl. The last time we decided to indulge in tequila was Naomi's birthday last year, and let me tell you, that turned into a shit show."

"True story," Naomi said, hopping in. "It seems like a fun way to celebrate, but when your family throws you a surprise brunch the next morning and you have the hangover from hell, it paints a different picture."

I winced. "Ouch."

"Wasn't a great time."

"But don't worry," Mara continued with reassurance, "Hollis stocks a great sauvignon blanc and pours generously. One glass will have you set for the rest of the night."

And she was right. Thirty minutes later I was still sipping from the same glass—barely anything having disappeared—as I listened to Jenny recount her latest foray into dating. She was treating us to a story of how the guy had invited her on a hike, only for her to show up and realize it was a challenging, uphill trek that lasted over two hours, and I let loose a laugh.

"And you just went along with it?" Mara asked, stunned. "I can barely get you to do yoga a few times a month."

"Of course I did," Jenny said defensively. "He was hot and I wasn't about to let an eligible bachelor go just because he's a little too into exercise."

"Well, did your hard work pay off in the end?" Faith asked, nudging her suggestively.

"No actually." Jenny glanced down at her wine as she swirled it around the bottom of her glass, then a small smirk appeared on her lips. "But he's coming over tomorrow night for dinner, so we'll see what happens."

"Yes girl."

"Get it."

The table erupted in hysterics as a blush grew on Jenny's cheeks, and I glanced over to the bar for a second. Only to double back when I noticed a familiar face sitting lonesome at the end.

"Hey, I'll be back in a bit," I said, mostly to Mara as I slid from the booth.

A flicker of confusion graced her features before her eyes travelled toward the bar and saw the same person I did. Then her gaze turned knowing. "Okay," she drawled. "Don't hurry back."

Rolling my eyes, I took my drink with me and walked over, stopping behind the empty stool next to Ryan. "This seat taken?"

I thought I caught a flash of surprise as he turned my way, but it was quickly masked by a look of thinly veiled delight. "Go ahead," he replied before looking over at the booth I'd just vacated, "though won't your friends be wondering why you're over here?"

Which meant he'd already known I was here.

That knowledge made me unusually giddy, and I blamed the alcohol running through my veins for it.

I waved him off, placing my wine down on the bar top and sitting down next to him. "Let them wonder." Before I could question whether or not that was too forward, a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Besides, I'm curious about how things are going with Bowen, especially considering you're currently at a bar."

Quirking a brow at him, I noticed his shoulders tense as he averted his gaze down to his drink. "Do you want the long version or the short version?"

"I've got time."

Launching into the events of the week—because yes, it hadn't even been seven days since the funeral—Ryan explained how, overall, Bowen was a great kid. He wasn't that picky of an eater, he favored playing outside over watching television, and he listened to what Ryan said most of the time.

It was evident, however, after hearing him go into Bowen's nightmares the previous evening, that while he may not be a handful to care for, the added responsibility of suddenly being his guardian was weighing on Ryan both mentally and emotionally.

"Last night was just a lot," he said, raking his fingers through his hair, "so while I took some time to sort out what's going on inside my head, my parents agreed to watch Bowen for the night."

"That was nice of them," I offered softly.

"It sure was," he agreed. "I guess I finally get why people say it takes a village to raise a kid."

"Well, it certainly helps, but some people have to do it alone," I said. "Though most people also have eight or nine months to get used to the idea of having a kid before they actually arrive. You were kind of just thrown headfirst into the deep end, so I think it's only natural there's an adjustment period."

"I know." He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug as he took a sip of his drink. "It's strange though. Suddenly not knowing what I'm supposed to do."

"Did you want a piece of advice?"

"Please."

I debated how to phrase my words for a moment before saying, "Kids like being treated as adults, so if you think he's internalizing the pain of losing his parents, it's best to talk through it with him. Plus—" The corner of my mouth twitched. "—I've never met a crying kid that didn't calm down once offered candy."

"Noted," he chuckled, but that faded quickly. "Though I guess when it comes to talking about Liam and Thea, I don't know if I'm ready to talk about them just yet."

"And that's okay too. Grief doesn't have a timeline. Take me for example. This is the first night I've been out with my friends since my mom passed away."

He blinked. "Really?" he asked, tilting toward me.

I nodded. "And I should probably get back to them," I said, and as I hopped off my stool, I boldly reached out to place my hand on his thigh. "But before I do, I'll just say this: Liam and Thea were great people, and they had a lot of friends around this little town. If you ever need help with Bowen, I'm sure there are countless semi-familiar faces ready to lend a hand."

"And are you one of them?"

Reaching for my drink, I shot him a gentle smile. "Of course."