From the corner of my eye, I can still see Arina—her serious face lit by flashes of strobe light, her expression tight as she talks. After a moment, she even forces a smile at something the girl says. I take that as my cue to let it go, at least for now.
Luckily, I know myself well enough to recognize that pushing it right now would only make everything worse. Drunk, stumbling, with my words going around in circles—probably end up saying shit I don’t mean, or saying it all wrong. And I can’t afford to do that. Not with whatever this is.
Because it isn’t just something small I’m holding back—it’s my mom, and her damage always finds a way to stay with me. The one person who knows exactly how to gut me with a single word. The one storm I’ve yet to learn to stand through without getting torn apart.
Just thinking about telling Arina and Levy what happened tonight makes my chest want to cave in. I take another drink from the bottle. It’s almost empty when I lift it higher, offering Levy a sip. He takes it without hesitation, and the way his Adam’s apple moves as he swallows nearly pulls my thoughts away from my fucking mom.
I still can’t believe she showed up here—tonight of all fucking nights. The thought of her alone is enough to make my throat burn hotter than the liquor.
I’ll tell them both in the morning—when the world isn’t spinning.
Maybe then it won’t break me all over again.
? ? ?
The night keeps rolling like a wave that doesn’t want to break. Shots keep finding their way into my hand—tequila, vodka, I don’t even know anymore. The music still shakes the walls like it’s begging us not to stop. Every room is alive with laughter and dancing—while everyone is drunk enough to forget about tomorrow.
Hell, maybe even the next day. And part of me hopes that applies to me as well.
By the time the clock edges close to two, the crowd starts peeling away, but the energy stays alive, lingering around us. Arina got her wish—last I saw her, she was slipping into her room with someone, her cheerleading skirt bouncing behind her before the door shut. He’s definitely not the guy from earlier, but if she’s having fun, good for her.
Levy and I pull everyone we can into the living room for a last-minute round of shots. We’re all a mess—makeup smudged, hair falling loose, fishnets with runs, costumes crooked—but we’re having so much fun it almost hurts.
My brother handles the last of the stragglers out front, his voice sharp as he makes sure everyone too drunk to drive has a ride lined up. I haven’t talked to him since I saw my mom hours ago, and honestly, I don’t plan on it. He’s only here for a job—nothing more, nothing less—and it sure as hell wasn’t to fucking invite her over. The thought of it makes my stomach twist, the anger pushing up through the haze of alcohol.
But I’m too drunk to deal with him right now.
Only once the yard is finally empty, Sonny slips out quietly, not a glance in my direction. And I let him, even though every part of me wants to slap him for telling the enemy my damn business.
The door finally shuts behind the last guest, and the house is just a house again. Besides the cups and pizza boxes everywhere and the fog machine is still hissing faintly outside. But none of it matters because I’m crashing. Hard.
My heels click against the floor, stumbling my way to my room. I keep every layer on, because drunk-me doesn’t have the patience for anything else—all I want is Levy, and for him to keep the promise he made before the night went sideways.
The door clicks closed, swallowing the last traces of the night’s smells. The night is still in my system, alcohol coating everything in a lazy blur—but the moment Levy walks in behind me, suddenly every muted sense wakes up.
His orange jumpsuit is practically falling off him, unzipped to show off his sculpted chest like he did it just for me—a deep V of skin hitting me right between my legs. He pauses, looking me over slowly, and I can see it in his eyes—he’s drunk, taking me in like it’s his first time seeing me tonight.
I walk toward him, the hem of my skirt creeping higher with every step I take. “Mmm, good girl. You didn’t change,” he says, his voice slurred almost as bad as mine.
I breathe against his lips, stepping closer. “I wantyourhands ripping this off m—.”
His hands are on me before I finish the sentence, gripping my waist, sliding down over my hips, pulling me flush against him. His mouth collides with mine, teeth grazing, tongue plunging in like he’s starving for it.
He groans kissing down my jaw, trailing fire over my neck, every sound making me wetter, needier. His fingers diginto my hips harder, my heels scrape against the floor as he lifts me. I clutch at him, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“I’ve been waiting for this all damn night,” he growls against my skin. “Seeing you walk around in that little outfit… you have no idea how close I was to pulling you away from everyone and fucking you on the spot.”
“Then do it,” I breathe, already arching into him. “I’ll let you do whatever you want… just keep touching me.”
My head falls back as he moves down my body, kissing and biting—marking every inch. The room spins—and not just from the alcohol, but from everything crashing into me at once. From him, being my anchor when I need him to be. From the way my mom showed up tonight, ripping open a wound I keep trying to stitch together. To the look on Arina’s face when she was talking to that girl—like she knew something was wrong.
I’m almost thankful he hasn’t asked me about it yet. Thankfully the only thing on his mind is getting me out of these clothes. But if he does, I don’t know if I’ll crumble or lash out. I’ll tell him—and Arina—soon, but not when the memory of my mom’s eyes still haunt me, reminding me I’ll never be enough. Not when the ache of that truth still claws at my chest.
Tonight, I don’t want to bleed out words that’ll ruin the air between us. I don’t want to explain, or relive, or hurt right now. I just want him to pull me out of my own head. I want his hands to scrub away the sting of her voice and his mouth to drown out the memory of her face until there’s nothing left but him.
So, I lean onto him—because right now, he’s the only thing strong enough to silence the noise in my head. The only one who can make me forget, even for a little while, what it feels like to stand in front of the woman who’s never learned how to love me.
Chapter Twenty Eight
