“Nina!” she shouts, laughing as she lies on her back.
“Come on.” I pull on her arm. “Let’s dance on the tables until they tell us off.”
She smiles up at me. “Why you so badass?”
We link arms and dance over to the tables at the back of the room. I pick one and then look down at my heels.
Thankfully, the guy who is sat at said table notices. Smirking, he lifts his pint and gestures to the table as if to tell me it’s all mine. He stands and offers me his hand, so I take it and use the chair he just vacated to climb up.
“Thank you!” I shout, pointing at him with a cheesy wink.
“What a babe.” Lucy nudges me, taking my hand as she climbs up behind me.
The DJ starts playing “Me & U” by Biscits and puts a shout out to the two hotties in the back, making us both cheer like a pair of teenage girls.
We draw attention from every eye in the club, and before long, all the girls are searching for a table to dance on.
I’m mid slut drop, just about to work my butt back up and into Lucy, when my eyes lock onto Mason.
Oh, Fuck.
30
Nina
He stepsup to the edge of the table, his strong hands finding my waist as he lifts me effortlessly and places me on the ground. My feet hit the floor, and I stare at him through a drunken haze.
Now isn’t the time to do this.
“It hurts to look at your face,” I tell him.
He nods, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he watches me.
“I need a drink.” I leave him at the edge of the dance floor and walk to the bar, trying my best to keep my feet steady.
“Vodka cranberry, please,” I ask the barman.
The guy to my left smiles down at me, and I grin wide. “Hi!”
The barman’s eyes move past me, and I spin to see Mase shaking his finger ‘no’ at him.
“Who do you think you are?” I turn back around. “Yes, to the vodka cranberry, thanks,” I say, shaking my head.
Does he think he can tell me what to do? He can’t.
“You can’t!” I mutter when he steps up beside me, and he frowns down at me.
The handsome son of a bitch.
“You and your friend put on quite a show up there,” the guy to my right tells me, drawing my attention to him.
“We did, huh!” I chuckle. “I’m Nina.”
“Nina,” Mason growls at my back.
“Ugh, what? Why are you here? Who phoned you? Was it you?” I evil eye the guy beside me, and he puts his hands up in defence.
“Cause he’s an asshole, he sold my studio, and I’m so mad at him I hate him,” I slur.
