Nina
I slamthe door to the cubicle, spinning to face the girls. “I’m so getting laid tonight. Is that okay, or does it make me a slut? I hardly know the guy.” I cringe, running my palms down over my dress.
“Are you kidding? You’d be a fucking idiot not to.” Lucy laughs as she sits to pee.
“Nina, you have to sleep with this man. I’m hot for it just watching the two of you,” Megan says, handing Luce the loo roll.
“Girls, he’s intense. I don’t think I could sleep with him and then just walk away. You saw how I was after last week, and I wouldn’t say he’s the type to settle down anytime soon.”
“Then you make sure you shag his brains out!” Megan cheers, switching spots with Lucy so she can pee.
“Shag? Megs, nobody fucking says that.” I laugh.
A hand raps on the cubicle door. “Hurry up in there!”
“Fuck off,” we all say in unison.
“Just don’t kiss him. That always works for me.” Lucy shrugs. “Keep it impersonal.”
“Ugh, don’t. I think I could come from his kiss alone. Kissing is an absolute must.”
“No,” she scolds. “No kissing. You can do this. You’re a strong independent woman, and you will take all the orgasms you can get from this man and then leave the motherfucker wanting more. You will not kiss him, got it?”
“I’ll try?” I smile.
“You got this, girl,” Megan says, standing then straightening out her dress.
We leave the toilets and head straight for the bar. “Three vodka cranberries, please,” I say, holding up three fingers in case he doesn’t hear me over the music.
The barman frowns, looking between the three of us. “Just a moment, please.” He backs away, giving me another once-over before whispering something to the suit at the end of the bar.
He returns a few seconds later. “I’m sorry, darling, I can’t serve you,” he cringes.
“What! Why? I have ID,” I say, riffling through my clutch.
“It’s not that. We’ve been told to no longer serve you this evening.” He shrugs apologetically, moving on to serve the next person in the queue.
What the hell?
I turn to the girls to find them both as surprised as I am. We aren’t even drunk. I look past the girls towards the railings where Mason stood earlier. He is sitting in one of the tall wingback chairs, his eyes fixed firmly on me, and I just know.
I start towards him, not stopping until I’m directly in front of him. I ignore the other men sitting around the table, my focus solely on Mason. I take his glass, the golden liquid sloshing onto my hand as I rip it from his grasp.
I tip my head back and down it in one.
He smiles as I struggle to keep my eyes from watering. “That’s your last one,” he says, pulling me down and onto his lap.
“Pixie, it’s good to see you again.”
I turn to see Elliot sitting to our right. He nods his head at me in greeting.
“Why do you call me Pixie?” I frown. “Is it my ears?” I run my fingers over the tops of them consciously.
Elliot and Mason look at each other before throwing their heads back, laughing. Confused, I look to Charlie, who’s sat on the bench seat opposite us with the other man I saw earlier.
“Ignore them,” Charlie mutters, shaking his head.
“No, Nina, it’s not your ears,” Mase whispers, his lip tipping up on one side as he tries to control his laugh.
