“Sure, sure.”
He shot me a look that could kill as I’d challenged his parking skills and got out. I shuffled over the and got out of his side, not wanting to risk his paintwork.
It was still relatively early so there wasn’t a long queue to get inside. Good thing really because Kerry hated the cold and the temperature had dropped drastically.
In the club, I pushed through the crowd toward the bar, my feet sticking to something spilled on the floor. The air was stuffy despite the intermittent gusts coming from air conditioning units above us. Strobe lighting flashed in my face and music so loud it vibrated my bones made my ears bleed.
I wasn’t usually this much of a grumpy bastard. I’d enjoyed every other night out with them.
This was all on me.
No, it was all onher. I blamed Oakley for every shit day I’d had since she left… and there had beenmany.
The anger and the longing and the fucking heartache made every single part of my life a struggle.
I hated it. And I loved her.
Ben pushed Kerry up against the bar and kissed her, leaving it to me to order. The arsehole hated getting the first round in.
Chelsea leant against the bar beside me, shooting me another flirtatious look. I smiled back, again wishing I was into her. But then nothing had happened between us yet, not even a kiss.
Maybe I needed that to see where my head was at. I was attracted to Chelsea, and from some of the looks she was getting in here, I wasn’t the only one.
Maybe she could kick my Oakley habit.
I handed her a gin and tonic, my fingers brushing over hers.
“Thanks,” she said, moving a fraction closer.
The strobe lighting bounced off her smile. I dropped my gaze to her lips. Did I want to go there?
Whatever, I was going to get shitfaced and see where the night led. See if anything changed.
“To the best fucking night of our lives,” Ben said, holding a shot and a beer in each hand.
“I’ll drink to that,” I replied before downing my shot and taking a swig of my whiskey.
Chelsea raised her brows. “You’re on it tonight.”
I made myself move closer and whispered in her ear, “I thought that was the plan.”
“I think it’s averygood plan,” she said, pushing her chest against mine.
I took another swig, a much bigger one, and revelled in the burn as the whiskey, straight, slid down my throat.
I was going to need a few more of those.
So that was exactly what I did.
Seven whiskeys later, and five shots of whatever Kerry randomly chose at the time of ordering later, I waswasted. I’d barely moved an inch, just slumped in my seat like a loser, getting more and more drunk.
The women were more appealing to me, and I wasn’t a mess, waiting for someone who had fucked off and was staying fucked off.
“Cole,” Chelsea slurred, gripping my arm to hold herself up. “Come dance with me?”
I shook my head, not even able to think straight, let alone move. “No. I like the bar.” I slumped against the polished wooden counter and raised my hand for the bartender. “Double whiskey, please. Want anything, Chels?”
Her eyes narrowed. “No, thanks. This is… I’m going to the bathroom.”
