Page 30 of Swim To Me

“Three cosmos, please.”

He nods, turning around to grab a bottle of vodka while I pull out two crisp banknotes from my clutch.

My upper eyelid twitches at the price when he slides the drinks over to me in exchange for my money, but I pretend it’s fine, picking up the three martini glasses in a triangle formation between my fingertips, so as to make carrying them over to our booth that much easier.

“Sophie, seriously, put the phone away!” I hear Aurelia say as I slide in beside her, and gulp down two big mouthfuls of my cosmopolitan.

“But Aidan—”

My sister grabs her own drink. “You mean the cheating knob—”

I push Sophie’s cocktail towards her. She looks like she bloody needs it. “How did you catch him cheating? Had you been together for long?”

Our drinks disappear as Sophie spins her tale, until Aurelia slips out of the booth to buy us our next round of cocktails. I sip my second cosmo slowly this time, savouring the sour twist of the lime hidden inside and the way it dances across my tastebuds.

Sophie, however, gulps hers down much faster than before, and then grins, making it rather apparent she’s not too good at holding her drink.

I don’t mean too, but as she babbles on in the background – we’ve left the topic of her cheating ex-boyfriend far behind – my mind begins to drift off.

The crowd inside the bar, thins out and then thickens in waves; people moving from the bar to the seats, groups of friends reuniting, hugging and kissing before dispersing again, the making of new connections as people pair off, some in twos and threes and fours.

I stare right ahead, watching the woman in my line of sight move from her seat. She edges towards the doorway, leaving me with a clear-cut image of the small, simple, two-seater table she’d been sitting in front of.

Of the small, simple, two-seater table that’s occupied.

By one person.

By onefuckingperson…

I blink and then again, unsure if my eyes are playing tricks on me. My stomach is pleasantly warm from my consumption of alcohol, but I’m not drunk. I’m not even tipsy.

At least, I don’t think I am. But if I’m sober, then there’s no way I can actually see—

Grey.

As if he can feel the weight of my stare on the side of his face, he turns, finding me in the crowd instantly.

I must make a sound because I vaguely hear Aurelia mutter, “What’s up with you?” beside me, but I can’t turn around to faceher. I can’t force my lips to move and make words. To tell her who I’ve just seen in this crowded bar. To tell her it’s just my luck, that Grey has chosenthisparticular bar, the one I’m in, when there’s hundreds upon thousands of bars in London, he could take his date tonight.

God, his date. The thought—

I swallow down the sudden knot in my throat before a weird itch tickles the left-hand side of my rib cavity, protecting my heart. I scratch at it, the gossamer material of my dress catching on my French manicured nails, until it fades as easily as it arrived.

All the while, my eyes stay permanently fixed on him. On Grey. I’m transfixed, greedily gobbling up the way his long legs are straightening as he pushes back his chair and stands.

He looks fucking edible; a pair of brogues I can’t quite make out the colour of on his feet, a tailored pair of black trousers, turned up at the bottom and leaving a strip of his ankle bare. Grey’s trousers are held up by a belt, with a matching black button down on his top half. Although, he’s got half of the buttons not even fucking done up, so I can see halfway down his chest, his defined pectoral muscles—

I can’t open my mouth to tell my sister Grey is eating up the space between us, walking away from his seat, foamy beer in hand, heading towards us.

Towards me.

“Hello, Delilah.”

His voice. The way he says those words, allowing them to spill off his tongue while a grin overtakes his entire face.

My core pulses.

I peer up at him from between my lashes, my hand resting on the cool stem of my cocktail glass, the only thing keeping me grounded. “Grey.”

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