“Don’t call me Colorado,” I deflected. “This isn’t Zombieland.” Frankie smirked. “You might change your mind if you looked in a mirror.” I glared in his direction, well aware of the state I must have been in. I knew what a night out did to the undersides of my eyes—I wasn’t twenty-one anymore. Not to mention Natalia’s makeup wipes were fucking scented, and I could feel the dry layer of skin begging for the expensive serums I had back at her apartment.
