Shit.
Maybe I needed a night out away from my thoughts.
I texted my security team and made my way to the closet. If I was going out, I might as well commit.
The rooftop bar was alive with bougie lighting, strings of lights that blended into the city skyline, and too many people to count.Everyone around us looked like they either owned a yacht or wanted you to think they did. This should have been my scene, but I wasn’t one for going out. Usually, I preferred quieter corners and nights that didn’t feel like a performance. With three drinks in me and a fourth on the way, I didn’t give a fuck anymore.
Ben and a few members of my security team lingered nearby, keeping watch.
Rachel shoved a pink cocktail in my hand. Something was floating in it—maybe fruit, maybe potpourri. Who was to say?
“It’s called...something French. I don’t remember,” she said, squinting. “The hot bartender told me it was good. I trusted his biceps.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m hydrated,” she slurred, raising her glass like a toast.
“That’s not water, babe.”
She held up her cucumber garnish like a trophy. “It has produce. It counts.”
We stumbled toward a half-lounge, half-dance-floor situation and collapsed onto a velvet bench. I immediately kicked off my heels. Feet, dead. Brain, soup. Dignity, gone.
Rachel curled her legs under her and gave me the look, the one that meant she was about to dig into something I definitely didn’t want to talk about.
“So…” she said, drawing the word out, “how’s the sexy football player?”
I stared into my drink like it might save me.
“Oh, there’s a story there,” she sang. “Tell me, tell me! Are we entering not-so-fake territory now?”
“I’m not talking about him. This is a Sawyer-free zone. Tonight is about being unbothered and relaxed.”
“Relaxed, huh? So…did he not help you relax?”
I groaned and dropped my head back against the booth. “He’s fine. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
Rachel sipped her drink and smirked. “You know you say that a lot, right?”
I glared at her. “Don’t make me throw your cucumber at you.”
She grinned. “Okay, but spill. Have you just been window shopping, or did you buy the whole damn place?”
I rolled my eyes. “What in the world is wrong with you?”
“Daddy issues.” She shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But hey, that’s beside the point.”
“Nothing happened,” I slurred, heat rushing to my cheeks.
Rachel’s grin was wicked. “Liar! You definitely took that guy for a spin.”
I groaned.
“Oh, you so did.” She wagged a finger. “I see that post-orgasm glow.”
I covered my face with both hands, trying to disappear. “We didn’t have sex, okay?”
She gasped as if I’d told her I ran off to join a fucking circus. “Wait, wait—so you had full access and didn’t even go for a joyride? Not even a little test drive?”
