“Actually, no. I’m going to Waverford with Keren,” she said. “Apparently I need to know more about the area so I can advise guests on where to visit.”
Zack raised his brows and folded his arms, trying to make himself seem bigger. “Waverford? It can be rowdy on a Friday,” he said, knowing full well how rowdy it could be, having been part of the rowdiness often enough. There were a couple of clubs there, as well as an assortment of bars and pubs.
“I think that’s the point,” Sorrell said. “Keren’s had one of those weeks she needs to forget and apparently I could do with drinks and somewhere to dance.”
“According to Keren?” Zack said, starting to side with Scott, and his grudge against Keren.
Sorrell nodded. “It’s been ages since I had a proper girls’ night out. I think your cousin’s joining us too.”
He felt his back stiffen. Rayah was the family’s wild child, which since she had four elder brothers or male cousins was always going to be kind of the case. She had always tried to keep up with them, in terms of drinking, escapades and general madness. Becoming a nursery teacher had levelled her slightly, but it hadn’t stopped her pushing boundaries—she just did it in a less obvious way.
“One of us will pick you up then,” he said. “Don’t get a taxi. Just call me or Jake and we’ll bring you home.”
Sorrell laughed, and he realised she was definitely laughing at him. “No, Zack, we’re not booking you for a lift. Keren would kill me if Scott cockblocked her, although I haven’t found out why she’s so anti-him yet.”
Zack shrugged. “I’ll pick you up. Seriously, Waverford’s not the best place to be stuck waiting for a cab.”
She shook her head again. “We’re three grown women, Zack. We can look after ourselves. Besides, I bet you have plans for this evening anyway.”
“I’m only going round to Jake’s. And then probably Scott’s.” He wondered about taking a trip into Waverford. Jake rarely passed up when that was suggested, given it was his usual playground for picking up a woman. Not that Zack was an angel in that regard either.
“We might even end up there if we don’t stay in Waverford. Have a good evening,” she said. “And at some point, you’ll need to tell me why Keren hates your cousin.”
“That’ll be a six course tasting menu then,” Zack said. “On both Friday and Saturday. It’s a long story.”
“I’ve gathered. See you later.” She gave him a grin that concealed a laugh and he wondered if she could tell that he wasn’t overly keen on her going out to the town and if she’d worked out why, because he’d now realised why. Helikedher.
“If you need a lift, call me. I won’t be drinking tonight, so I can pick you up,” he said, hoping to hell that she didn’t hear the need in his voice.
There was that smile again. “You don’t need to, Zack. I’m not after a heavy night. I’ve too much to do to have a hangover.”
“You know Waverford’s got a reputation, don’t you?” He mentally kicked himself for sounding like such a wuss. “Especially Scruples, because the people who generally go in there don’t have any. If someone’s not wearing a wedding ring, don’t think they’re not married…”
She was full-on belly laughing now, her eyes crinkling at the sides. Her small hand reached out to grasp his forearm.
“Zack, I should’ve been getting married four weeks from today. I’m interested in getting dressed up and feeling pretty and having a laugh with the girls. Not taking anyone home.”
She couldn’t have said anything that deflated him more, because that meant she wasn’t interested in him.
“I wasn’t…” He stopped. “Just let me know if you need a lift.”
“I will do.” She squeezed his arm. “Have a good night yourself.”
Zack arrived at Jake’s in a foul mood. His cousin was sprawled on his sofa with a beer, his eyes fixed on the highlights of the European soccer match from the night before.
“What’s up with your face?” Jake said when he finally looked up. “You look like you’ve just seen a mirror.”
“Fuck off,” Zack said, sitting down. “Fancy going to Waverford?”
Jake sat up and frowned. “Why? It’s colder than an Eskimo’s testicle out there. And I heard that Chad Hooley has his stag night tonight, so I’d rather avoid that sack of shit.”
“Fuck,” Zack said and slumped back into the sofa.
Jake’s expression switched from frown to over-keen interest, as if he could smell a nugget of information that could be used as a weapon for torture. “What’s with the sudden urge to go to Waverford? You hate the place.”
That was true. Waverford was Zack’s last choice for a night out. He preferred the city: Manchester or Leeds, Sheffield at a push, where there was a more cosmopolitan feel instead of a large market town with cheap beer.
“The girls have gone for a night out,” he admitted, reluctantly. Jake would now take on the vibe of one of Alex’s sniffer dogs, hunting around for more information until he’d dragged it out and forced Zack to choke on it.
