“Should we stop her?” I ask, half rising from my seat, unsure if I’m supposed to be the responsible one.
Laurelyn sips her drink, unbothered. “Let her have her moment. After this year, she deserves it.” She smirks, casual as can be. “They make penicillin for those types of mistakes.”
The whole table howls.
I sit back, heart tugging. I still don’t know the entire story with Ben. Chloe doesn’t talk about it, but I’ve seen the way her expression goes tight when someone mentions his name.
But tonight, she’s free. She’s wild. She’s laughing. And honestly? That’s a step in the right direction to healing.
Back at our VIP table, the rest of us have settled into the role of amused spectators.
Violet lounges beside me, one leg crossed over the other, sipping champagne like a duchess on vacation. It’s alarmingly tame for her, borderline suspicious, actually.
Julia’s perfectly composed, as always, while Laurelyn is already halfway through another drink and snorting at Leilani’s latest dance move.
“Does anyone else feel like we’re chaperoning?” I say, watching Chloe attempt to spin on a pole she definitely shouldn’t touch with bare hands.
Krishna laughs. “If we are, we’re terrible at it.”
“I’m not stopping her,” Laurelyn says. “That girl’s earned a scandal.”
Another dancer struts out, and the crowd loses it. This one has biceps the size of a rugby ball, and a cowboy hat that may have its own zip code.
“He’s pretty,” Julia says, studying him.
“He’s someone’s very dirty dream,” Violet says. Then, lowering her voice, “But honestly? What I’ve got waiting for me is better.”
We all nod, a quiet, shared truth settling in.
“Don’t tell Elias I said that, though,” Violet adds with a grin. “He might think I’m in love with him.”
“You are in love with him.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t know. Yet.”
“Hate to break it to you, Vi, but he definitely knows. You’re not exactly subtle about it.”
She laughs. “Okay, but in my defense, he looks at me like I’m his whole world. It’s hard to keep the mystery alive.”
I sip my drink, letting it all wash over me—the laughter, the music, the ridiculousness of the night. But mostly, the women beside me. My circle. My heart.
The music thumps steady, lower now, a heartbeat slowing after the high. Most of us are winding down—hair tousled, makeup kissed off by laughter and cocktails.
But not Leilani. She’s still dancing. Her dress clings to her and her hair’s a mess of curls and glitter. Her smile is pure chaos—the beautiful kind.
I watch her, chin resting on my hand, heart pulled tight in my chest. She’s beautiful. Strong. Loud in the best way. And underneath all the glitter and jokes, she has the biggest heart. A person who makes room for everyone—no matter how crowded life gets.
It hits me then—she gives so much, but I’ve never seen her ask for anything. Not really. Not when it comes to love.
She throws her hands in the air, head back in laughter, and I swear it’s the most honest thing I’ve seen all night.
“Go, Leilani!” Chloe screams beside her, clapping off beat but happy.
Leilani turns toward us, cheeks flushed, eyes shining. “Someone better be filming this for future blackmail!”
“No phones, remember?” Julia calls back.
Leilani shrugs and twirls, arms wide. “Then I’m dancing for the gods, babes!”
