Page 25 of With You

I reapply my lip balm, checking over my appearance before I leave the bathroom. I can see our table from here, and while Grayson is back with the drinks, River isn’t with him. I can only hope he’s gone home so the rest of us can enjoy our night.

I head back into the fray, trying my best to avoid getting bumped by people who are trying to make the best of their time here, too. The music seems louder here, surrounded by so many people, and I can barely hear myself think as I push through the crowd. A cold sensation trails down my back, liquid pouring over me so quickly I stop in my tracks.

I whip around to see who’s responsible for the drink I’m now wearing, half expecting River to be executing some petty revenge, but it’s a stranger instead. He’s shorter than River, floppy blonde hair with a pretty boy face.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault,” he says in French, holding his hands and the empty cup up in the air.

“It’s okay,” I reply, before turning away from him. There’s no point standing around while my dress keeps getting ruined. I think over my options, the bathroom seeing even further away than before, and decide going back there to dry myself off isn’t the best choice. I take the heaving mob of a crowd blocking my path as a sign to just leave instead.

“Let me buy you a drink,” the stranger says from behind me. I look over my shoulder to tell him it’s not necessary, and somehow he’s gotten closer to me. I take a step forward, putting some distance between us, but he steps closer again.

“I’m leaving now, anyway,” I tell him, continuing to walk so I can get to my friends.

“Come on, just one drink. It’s the least I can do,” he insists.

“Really, it’s fine,” I deadpan, losing all politeness in my tone.

“You’re too pretty to go home alone,” he says, his hand closing around my upper arm as he spins me to face him. The way he’s acting is disgusting, his clammy fingers press into my skin, foul breath ghosting across my face as he moves closer to me.

I jab my heel straight into his foot as I shove his chest as hard as I can. He jumps back, his grip loosening right as someone grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him away from me. The horrid man almost falls to the ground as he crashes into a group of people.

“Are you okay?” River asks, jaw clenched as he glances at the stranger before back to me.

His eyes dart across my face, checking me over for whatever injuries he thinks that man might have inflicted on me. Without thinking, I rub the spot on my arm where his hand was, and River’s gaze travels there before snapping back to my face, something in his expression I can’t quite read.

“He spilled his drink on me, it’s fine. I’m going home.” I can’t bring myself to say anything else, this entire night falling apart in the space of just a few minutes.

“I’ll come with you,” he says. “I was getting bored of this place anyway,” he tacks on to the end of his sentence, as if he wants to give me a believable excuse for leaving.

It feels like the welcome dinner all over again. I don’t have the energy to fight him this time though, the adrenaline from pushing that man slowly fading as the dampness on my back drags me into reality again.

“Okay,” I say. “Let me go tell the girls.”

“I’ll text them when we’re outside. Let’s just get out of here.”

I nod, turning toward the exit as River moves to stand slightly in front of me. He guides us through the crowd, avoiding any more incidents as we reach the exit. River takes his jacket from the cloakroom staff, asking them something as he does so. A few seconds later, napkins appear in his hand as he comes to stand next to me again.

I give him my back without a word, and his touch is gentle as he drags them across my skin to get rid of the remains of the drink.

“Can I?” he asks, his hand resting over the top of my dress.

I nod as his hand travels lower, dipping under the fabric to wipe away at those spots, too. I could probably reach it myself if he gave me the napkins, but it’s almost as if it wasn’t even a question for him to do it for me. Once he’s finished as much as he can without getting too much under my dress, he throws the napkins away, and drapes his jacket over my shoulders.

I’m grateful for it as soon as we get outside, the cold night breeze hitting me instantly. River taps on his phone and a few seconds later a sleek black car pulls up in front of us. He opens the door and ushers me in, reaching across me to fasten my seatbelt, and his familiar citrusy floral scent hits me all over again. He closes my door and goes around to get in the other side. As soon as he’s seated, the driver takes off without any hesitation.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, fiddling with the console buttons until warmth floods the back of the car.

“I’m fine,” I reassure him. “Probably need to get a new dress, but it’s okay.”

“I’ll find out who he is,” River says, voice low but steady. “He can repay you for it.”

It’s a silly thing to say considering I can easily buy a new and probably prettier one whenever I want, but I understand the sentiment behind it.

“There’s no need for that. It’s old season, anyway,” I say in an attempt to lighten the dark cloud that seems to be the third passenger with us.

“Alright,” he sinks back into his seat, some of the tension leaving him, “but let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.” I take a few seconds to gather my next words. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I’ve said that yet.”