He nods, but I can tell there’s something more he wants to say, but we reach the bus so he doesn’t. I take my seat by the door and grab my cup of tequila. It’s finished by the time we reach the club, and not that it was a huge glass, but it’s enough that I’m already feeling amazing.
I listen to the guys messing around as we wait in line, talking about football and school and all the hot pieces of ass they’re going to meet in the club. Eventually, a couple of the guys start conversations with a few girls in another line beside us. I roll my eyes at how cheesy they’re being, and how pathetic it is that the girls are eating it up. I swear, I am thrilled to be into guys, because that shit just doesn’t fly with us.
Once we’re inside, I grin to myself, knowing it’s going to be a good damn night. Our group heads to the bar and we do a round of shots before getting drinks and heading to the bathroom before making our way onto the dancefloor.
I get lost in the music instantly, enough alcohol in my veins to last me all night. I won’t even have to drink anymore, I’m feeling so good right now. I don’t think anything could ruin it.
Chapter Fifteen
Austen
One club turns into two clubs, and two turns into three, and somewhere in between, I lose track of where we are. The only thing I know is that wherever we are, the place is huge, and someone sprung for the top tier VIP package.
We’ve got our own freaking alcove—one of those wrap-around sofas that encases a big, glass table full of half drunk and empty champagne and vodka bottles among empty glasses and decanters of orange juice, cranberry juice, and something I can’t tell what it is, but it tastes sour as hell.
The lights flash around me as Alex and Mack entertain two girls on the corner of the sofa. I’m pretty sure they aren’tstrippers, but that doesn’t stop them from giving their best performances, fueled by alcohol most likely.
Our VIP has been packed with pretty girls all night, the guys bringing them back like prized trophies, which only makes me feel worse.
Even Cam is having fun, and he hates the guys.
One of the girls bumps into me, giggling uncontrollably as the waitress brings a fresh round of drinks and bottles. I pour myself a drink, nearly three fingers of vodka and a splash of cranberry to make it colorful enough.
I’ve always been more of a beer drinker, but I learned real quick my senior year that a vodka cranberry was my weakness.
Pretty sure about three vodka cranberries were to blame the night I fucked Savannah for the first time.
I grab a little lime from the cocktail tray and toss it in my drink, not even blinking as I practically drain my drink in one shot.
The vodka burns down my throat, and I wait for it to make me feel better.
But it doesn’t.
So I pour another. And another.
The room is a bit blurry as I open my eyes. To my left, Alex is slobbering all over some girl’s face and Mack looks half-alive as he and his date of the night grind along to the music. Paul and Andre are lost in their phones, and Trey and Hudson spray us all with champagne before guzzling it like idiots.
What am I even doing here? I wonder.
Where’s Cam?
I look to my right, and realize he’s gone, though I don’t know where he went. He was right here…
I sigh, getting up and grabbing the bottle of vodka.
“I’ll be back,” I say, but no one hears me.
A deep sadness forms in the pit of my stomach, one I can’t ignore.
I step over the velvet rope that ties off our alcove, stumbling a bit from the alcohol and nearly knocking over one of the pillars, but manage not to.
I take a swig of my vodka bottle as I head for the doors that lead outside.
It’s just as packed on the rooftop as it is in the club, but I don’t care.
The cool air kisses my skin as I find a shadowed corner, between the bar and the landing that overlooks the strip.
Savannah’s words still echo in my head.
