“Oh, don’t you worry,” she scoffs, taking her drink from the tray. “We saw them, babe.” She salutes me with her glass.
I roll my eyes, laughing with them.
“Did you get numbers? Please tell me you got numbers!” Megan begs.
“No! The blond guy was intense and had the attitude of an eighteen-year-old boy.”
Lucy’s mouth drops open again, and Megan breaks out into a face splitting grin. She has a glint in her eye that she only gets when she’s on a manhunt.
I look to my empty drink and pray it will actually take me to Hogwarts.The blond asshole is behind me.I turn slowly, confirming my suspicions when I find him towering above me with a tray of shots, eyebrows raised high as he tries to look offended. Charlie looks at me sympathetically with a grin on his face. His head turned to the side, looking all adorable. I slide into the seat deeper, sighing as I make room for them.
“Pixie, I see you made some new friends. Want to introduce me?” His facade slips, and he cracks a smile. I elbow him in the ribs, my own smile splitting my face.
“Megan, Lucy, this is Charlie and…” I look to the blond in question. I don’t remember his name. Did he even tell me? I smile. “Ken.”
He throws his head back, laughing, as does Charlie.
“Tequila, girls?”
Oh god. As I said, it’s going to get messy.
* * *
It’seleven p.m. and the club is completely packed. There isn’t a spare seat in sight—every square foot filled with men and women fawning over each other.
The night has been better than I’d expected. The boys, Charlie and Ken—or Elliot as I now know him to be—have been hilarious. I have danced, sang and laughed more than I have in a long time. I feel good. I feel drunk. I’m so drunk.
Lucy is tucked under Charlie’s arm, having a deep ‘I won’t remember this in the morning’ talk. She’s all tequila’d out. Is that even a word? I frown into my glass of water. We need to get her home.
Megan comes back from the dance floor with a guy on her arm, and I nod my head to where Lucy is sitting and mouth,We are going. She turns, giving her man an all tongue and teeth kiss as he grabs her behind, grinding into her as she whispers in his ear. I look at Elliot, sitting next to me, only to find he has the same horrified expression on his face. We both erupt with laughter.
But then he stops and stares at me, his face growing somewhat serious in his drunken state. His eyes pinch in at the corners, his lips twisting up in thought. Maybe it’s the tequila, but I can’t control my features, and I continue to laugh in his face. Elliot shakes his head as he looks down into his glass, his face morphing back to that megawatt smile.
* * *
Mase
I rollmy car into my apartment building’s underground car park, heading for my space at the farthest end along the back wall. My dash reads 22:34, but it feels a whole lot later.
A layer of sweat still sits on my skin from my late-night workout. It’s been a shit week. The same old shit in the office topped off with a call from my father tonight.
My phone alerts me of a new message just as I’m reversing in. I put my car in park and pick it up.
Elliot: I have something for you (Pixie emoji)
Pick me up @ The Pearl
The life of Elliot Montgomery. It must be nice having all the girls, money, and power, but no burden of the empire we’ve built. I love my best friend. He’s one of the smartest, loyalist men I know, but he’s a lazy bastard. Our parents were best friends growing up, which meant by default, we became best friends. It wasn’t ever a choice, but he’s the family I choose now.
Clicking back on the screen, I read the message again, shaking my head in annoyance. I needed that idiot tonight, and he was out? Chasing fucking pixies. I shake my head and laugh. “Not tonight, my friend,” I mutter to no one.
Climbing from my car on aching legs, I round the bonnet, grabbing my gym bag from the back seat. I walk to the elevator and hit the button for the penthouse, leaning back and running my hands over my face. The steel doors jolt open, and I flick on the lights. It doesn’t feel like a home anymore, it’s cold and serves the only purpose of a hole to rest my head. Its charm’s lost on me. Dimming the lights and blanketing the place in darkness, my feet hit the stairs, and I leave the shadows of the apartment behind me.
Ten minutes later, I emerge from my en suite fresh from a shower. A towel wrapped low around my waist. Dropping down to the bed, I run my hands over my face and hair. I contemplate having a drink to take the edge off, but I already know nothing will be strong enough.
My mind goes back to Elliot’s text and that little pixie emoji. It’s been years. Blowing out a breath, I sit up in a rush, making a rash decision based on the warmth that spreads through my chest.
The streets are full and bustling with the Friday night crowd as I weave in and out of London traffic with one thing on my mind.
