There’s a few places I haven’t tried, but I think I’ve met my quota of rejection today.
I’ve been meaning to text Sofia all day, but every time I typed out a message it always came out wrong. I feel like shit with how we left things last night and I’ve barely slept from thinking about it.
I dig out my phone and begin typing, hitting send before I can change my mind.
A messagepings through almost instantly.
A smile pulls at my mouth, tears of relief filling my eyes as I reply back.
She must sense my apprehension because after waiting for a few minutes with no response, those three little dots appear at the bottom of my screen, followed by a text a few seconds later.
My stomach lurches at the mention of his name, my mind returning to our less than pleasant encounter last night after the fight, and the last thing I want to do today is go for round two.
I consider it for a momentbefore typing back.
Only a few of the tables are occupied as I step inside, and with the bar largely empty, it gives me a chance to have a look around, something I wasn’t able to do last night.
The bare brick walls are covered with framed photos of motorcycles, posters and various other bike related memorabilia. Naked bulbs hang down from the thick wooden beams on the ceiling, creating an atmosphere that’s warm and cosy. The booths against the far wall are full quilted black leather, the tables solid oak.
Fi is sat at the bar on one of the high stools, swirling her straw around the glass in front of her. She looks up when I move closer, giving me a smile that settles some of the apprehension inside.
I slide onto the stool beside her. “Hey.”
“Hey, babe.” She must see something on my face because she reels me in for a hug, squeezing me tight.
I hug her back even tighter, unable to stop the tears from falling. “I’m so sorry about yesterday, the things I said to you were awful and I’ve been up half the night thinking about it. Killian rubbed me up the wrong way and I was angry, but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” I rush out, barely coming up for air.
“Babe, you’re getting snot and slobber all over my shirt.”
I snort a laugh, pulling back and wiping my tears away with my sleeve. “Sorry,” I sniff.
“It’s okay. I guess it’s payback for when I threw up all over yours at Josh Reed’s house party when we were fifteen, remember?”
“How could I forget? Couldn’t get the smell out of my nose for weeks.”
She throws her head back and laughs, and I struggle to holdback mine, her laugh has always been too infectious to resist.
“So you really don’t hate me?” I ask.
“You’re my best friend, dummy. One silly argument isn’t gonna make me love you any less. You’re my ride or die, bitch.Always.” She leans in and plants a kiss to my cheek. “While we’re on the subject, I’m sorry too. I asked you to come and hang out with me and I spent most of my time with Mac. I’m a shitty friend.”
“No you’re not. You’re just in love and have a boyfriend who adores you.”
“That’s no excuse. I promise it won’t happen again. It was still a bad call to bring you here in the first place but Mac insisted.”
“He did?” That’s weird.
I go to ask her why when I’m cut short.
“Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon, sugar.” Jett beams, drying a wine glass with a cloth on the other side of the bar.
“I’m full of surprises.”
“I don’t doubt that.” He winks. “Soda?”
“Please,” I reply, stifling a yawn.
“You okay, babe? You look exhausted,” Fi asks.
