‘How can you be sure?’ I murmur, my eyes not reading the description, my heart beating so hard I can feel it.
‘Call it an educated guess.’
‘How strange,’ I say almost to myself. ‘There was a reason I didn’t want more wine.’ His brow creases a touch as I carry on. ‘There’s wisdom in wine, so they say. And tonight, I decided I want to be a little reckless.’
As my gaze flicks to his again, I find I can’t read his expression, but our moment is broken as Melody turns to us once again.
‘What you having, Pen?’
My eyes flick to the menu, my mouth seemingly deciding for me without the firing of synapses. ‘I’ll have a Hanky-Spank, I think.’
‘I don’t think I saw that one on the menu,’ she says, looking down at the thing, confused.
‘Because it’s not on there,’ replies the barman with a smirk. ‘But he looks like he knows exactly how to give her one.’
Chapter 14
PENNY
‘Ah, babe, you got so may Tinder licks tonight.’
‘I got what?’
‘So, so many,’ Mel says, shaking her head like a toddler being offered a spoon of peas. ‘Sooo many!’
‘Come on. Let’s get you to bed.’
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ comes Ben’s voice from somewhere in the kitchen. Hell, it’s a good job she’s insensible.
‘Many, many Tinder licks on your profile.’
Mel flops backwards onto the couch as I try to decipher drunk speak, deciding she must mean Tinder profile likes.
‘Jus cover me with a blankey an I’ll takeyoutobrunch tomorrow. Myshhowt.’
‘You don’t want to sleep on the sofa,’ I cajole, pulling on Mel’s arm. ‘Come on. There’s room upstairs. If you stay here, Smalls will come and sit on your face.’
‘Kinky cat,’ she says, giggling. ‘Can you get pink eye from cat farts?’ she asks, lifting her head and only her head.
‘He’s more likely to suffocate you in the dead of night.’
‘Make the room stop spinning,’ she whines, snatching her arm away and pulling a throw cushion over her face.
‘I told you not to drink that last cocktail.’
Lifting the cushion, she sends me a narrow-eyed gaze. ‘S’not helpful, Pen. I was drowning my sorrows. What kind of boyfrien’ doesn’t care if you’re not comin’ home?’
‘Evidently yours,’ Ben answers, walking into the living room. ‘Here.’ Arm under his sister’s head, he pulls her up to sit. ‘Drink some of this,’ he says, passing her a glass of water. ‘And don’t puke on Penny’s nice rug.’
‘Tim didn’t even care,’ she repeats balefully.
‘Yeah, well, you choose the shit. Want me to go beat him to a pulp?’
‘That’s not helpful.’ Folding my arms, I frown at him.
‘Pull the throw over her. She’ll be fine.’
‘She should be in bed.’
