I leave him and Ciaran to it, having never been a fan of dancing, and make my way up through the seated area and downstairs to the toilets. It’s a tight squeeze as people wait to use one of the two cubicles, but thankfully I only need the urinal, and can skip the half a dozen people waiting in line.
By the time I’ve peed, zipped myself up, and made my wayback to the sink, the line seems to have doubled. As I bend down to splash my face with water, a familiar voice speaks.
“I thought that was you.”
I lift my head and catch Ryan’s reflection in the mirror.
I slowly reach for a paper towel to dab at my face, buying valuable seconds to reconcile my thoughts, and breathe deeply into the sheet of paper.
“Oh hi,” I say, turning to face him. I rub my hands together, still coming to terms with the fact that he is really standing in front of me.
He hasn’t aged a day since I last saw him, nearly three and a half years ago. He still has the same blond hair, green-eyed look, and his tall toned frame is complemented by a white T-shirt, stonewash jeans, and the familiar Tom Ford scent he always wears.
“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Who you here with?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but Stephen convinced me to come here. You here with Marcus?” It’s a veiled dig at the guy he moved on with after I broke up with him.
“Err, can you move?”
A rude effeminate twink pushes me back into the sink, trying to get past us and to one of the urinals.
I start to reach for the back of the guy’s shirt but think better of it, clenching my fist instead.
“Wanna wait for me upstairs? It’d be good to catch up properly.” Ryan grabs my shoulder, his touch sending a bolt of electricity around my body.
I want to say we’re heading elsewhere, but I know I won’t be able to drag Stephen away from the dance floor. So I’m stuck here.
“Sure,” I say, unclenching my fists. “I’ll wait outside in the smoking section.”
A couple of minutes later, Ryan steps outside to join me. Ihold onto the golden pole that ropes off a space on the pavement for smokers and vapers to congregate.
“You’re looking good.” Ryan touches my arm as he steps toward me.
I’m not sure if it’s the cool air outside or his touch, but another surge of electricity charges through my body.
“Thanks, so do you,” I say, instantly regretting my words.
“So. How’s LA?” He tilts his head sideways, widening his eyes.
I remember when I used to get lost in those eyes of his, before my dad’s death forced me to take off my rose-tinted glasses and see Ryan for the man he was.
“It’s great. The weather’s perfect. Work is going amazing, and I can’t wait to get back.” My truth-adjacent nature is kicking in, but I’m not going to disclose my issues to Ryan, of all people.
“Don’t you miss London?” His eyes narrow as he waves the smoke away from the person vaping next to us.
I wonder if he means London, or more specificallyus.
“Sometimes. Especially the food. But also not really. So much has changed since I was here last.”
“But some things don’t,” he says, leaning forward to kiss me.
I don’t know whether it’s actual shock or the alcohol, but I surprise myself when I don’t instantly pull away. I am momentarily frozen before I not only remember that I am in a relationship, but all the reasons that I ended it with Ryan.
His control.
His persuasive nature.
His ability to make me feel like I was the one to blame for all our problems.
