"I'm still at the yacht—"
"And I woke up in my ex's bed." I snap, hearing as both of them fall silent before Vlada curses.
"God damn, Gigi. How did you even manage to do that?"
"Wait a second," Chelsea says, "The one with the dead eyes?"
"The one we're not allowed to badmouth?" Vlada says, "I don't understand people who refuse to talk shit about their exes."
I close my eyes, shaking my head as I fish out my apartment keys from the pocket of my coat. Maddy should be here—she got drunk exactly once, two years ago at a speakeasy I took her to and it hurt her pride so bad, she never took another sip of alcohol. 
She's something of a lightweight—like our mom was. She's a lot like mom. And as gut-wrenching as it is, I'm definitely more like my father. Being stupidly stubborn and prideful, suppressing emotions, or even my drinking and smoking addictions.
"Hey," Vlada says, "Wasn't Winona supposed to be the sober one? Where is she?"
I glance at my screen with a concerned frown while opening my door and slipping inside, "She didn't pick up."
"Did anyone get a text?" Chelsea asks.
"Uh, no," I say, struggling to take off my strappy shoes with my coat tossed over my arm and my messy hair getting in my face as I try to look through my notifications, "Not me."
"Oh she's here," Vlada says before a groan spills through, "Why're you sleeping on the floor? Oh wait, I forgot she has seasickness."
"G! You're back," I hear Maddy say with a grin and raise my head to spare her a glance before doing a double take, my eyes widening as they lock onto the man sitting on the chair by the dining table, leisurely bringing his cup of coffee to his lips, "Your boyfriend has been waiting for you."
My lips part and I pause. Blinking twice as my brows furrow in confusion.
"Madeline," I grit out, giving up on trying to undo my shoes as I straighten and hang up the phone before walking deeper into the living room, my stiletto heels clicking. I toss my coat over the couch, letting my phone drop over it before fixing her with a glare, "Do I have to teach you about stranger danger now?"
"Uh," she trails off, glancing towards the man in question, hoping he'd jump in but he promptly looks away, enjoying his coffee as if the entire conversation has nothing to do with him, "He said you guys got back together."
"And he punctuated that with Hunter Braun's signed jersey?" I ask dryly, my gaze flickering to the striped fabric she hid behind her back.
"Uh..." She trails off with a shrug but look at that pleased smile she can't seem to suppress, I don't think she's the least bit regretful.
I don't look at him when I ask, "What makes you think you can buy my sister?"
"She said—I'll let you in if you get me Hunter Braun's signed jersey." Comes his matter-of-factly reply.
"Hear me out," Maddy throws her hands in the air, failing to suppress her laughter, "It's not just any jersey. It's his World Cup jersey!"
"Well, she's returning it. Now."
"Oh no," She narrows her eyes at me, "She is not." 
"Madeline."
"Over my dead body! We had a deal and I kept my end of the bargain I'm not returning anything!"
"That deal we'll talk about later—"
"Hey, I only accepted because this was getting lame. I more like sacrificed myself to give you guys another chance to talk to each other."