Page 25 of Only With You

“Who are we looking at?” Malik follows his line of vision, but because there are so many people, his eyes roam the entirety of the club.

“Daisy Diaz,” I supply. “The girl by the bar. Pin-straight black hair, tight bright orange dress, and killer smile.”

“Damn, she’s…fine.” Malik whistles.

“She—” Saint clears his throat and for the first time his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “She’s not into anyone younger than her, so don’t waste your time.”

“She’s definitely worthmytime,” Malik replies, unaware of the change in Saint’s mood. “Fuck, she can waste my time for all I care.”

It’s temporary, because whatever’s clouding Saint’s mind dissipates and he’s back to looking happy. “Good luck,” he patronises, patting his shoulder just as Daisy’s look-alike stands next to him.

“Hey, Saint.” Breanna hugs him before waving at us. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey, Bre.” He returns the hug.

It’s obvious why Saint said yes to Breanna. In some way, she looks like Daisy. Same black hair, faces are almost identical, their bodies are slightly the same. The only difference is that Breanna is taller than Daisy.

“I’ll be back. I’m thirsty.” Malik chugs the remainder of his drink and holds his cup up, asking anyone around if they want a drink.

Some say yes, while Saint insists he’ll go with him, and he does with Breanna in tow.

So much for bygones being bygones.

I grimace at the wet stain on my shirt. It’s not big, but still, the disgusting smell of vodka stays on it.

Some girl accidently spilled her drink on me when she tried to get me to dance with her.

“Fuck,” I grumble, deciding against adding more soap because the wet spot will only get bigger.

I pull my phone out and type out a message to Jagger, letting him know I’m leaving, until I hear a familiar voice outside the restroom.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Julianna, why are you being like this? It was a long time ago,” a guy whines.

“Don’t,” she warns.

“You’re being unreasonable and childish. I said I was sorry. What more do you want from me?”

The sound of a toilet flushing mutes the conversation, but when it stops, I don’t hear her anymore. There’s no way I would’ve imagined her voice.

I step into the hall and head back to the crowded club. I spot Gabby and Polly with everyone else, but Hollywood is nowhere in sight.

I swear I couldn’t have imagined her. My brain wouldn’t fuck me up like that and I would know because I sawthe colours.They wouldn’t have made an appearance if I hadn’t heard her voice.

I consider asking Gabby and Polly if she came with them, but I don’t want them prodding. Especially Polly. She’s under the impression we need to fuck the hate out of our systems.

I’m not sure where she got that from, but fuck that.

Searching the entire bar and even the VIP section, I almost give up because I don’t see her. For the first time in my life, I’m hoping I’ll spot her blonde hair and irritating sapphire eyes, but I come up short.

There’s only one other place I can think of and I hope to God she wouldn’t be that daft to be outside alone. Then again, I’ve seen her do some pretty questionable things.

I make my way outside and look everywhere, but I still don’t find her. Right as I’m about to give up, I remember there’s an alley.

A single lamp post lights up the narrow but long lane, helping me instantly spot her. She’s leaning against the brick wall. Her head hangs low, but she fans her face with her hand. Mumbling something, but it’s so low, I can’t hear it.

Without giving it a second thought, I stride down the alley and stand in front of her.

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