Page 69 of Pit

Me: I miss you. Why won’t you text me, Pit? I’m in a bar, drunk. That’s a first. Another first. But this one is without you, again. I hate that.

When I return to Anita, two men have joined the table. I hesitate, but she spots me and waves me over.

I slide into my seat and offer an awkward smile. It’s not like they’re bad looking, in fact, they’re both seriously good looking and dressed well. “This is my friend, Tessa,” Anita tells them, and I blush harder.She called me her friend, not her employee.

“Te, this is Mark and Will. They work as barristers, and we sometimes send work their way.”

I relax knowing they’re more like colleagues than potential dates. “Great to meet you,” I say, sipping my drink.

“I was filling them in on Mister Sky,” she adds, and we both laugh. The client came in this week needing representation for stealing ten vibrators from a well-known high-street store.

While they get lost in conversation, I check my phone. There’s nothing, and my heart feels heavy as I tuck my phone away.

“Waiting for him to call?” asks Mark, leaning closer.

I force a smile. “No, just checking my messages.”

“So, there’s no one special?”

Anita’s mobile rings and she rolls her eyes, cancelling the call. I smirk, knowing full well it’s the mysterious Atlas.

“I’m not looking for anything,” I reply.

“Hey, neither am I,” he replies, holding up his hands in defence. “But I don’t want some guy coming in here assuming the worst and punching my lights out.”

I laugh. “That won’t happen.”

Somehow, we move onto shots. One shot for every time Will mentions his ex’s name, which seems often since they’ve not long split up and he’s cut up.

The room is spinning, and I’m definitely going to regret this by the morning.

Pit

I pace, staring at the text message I received from Tessa over an hour ago. My mobile lights up in my hand and I answer. “Atlas, what the fuck’s going on?” I demand.

“I’ve tried calling Nita, brother, but she’s ignoring me.”

“Don’t you track her?”

“No, she’d rip my balls off. We respect each other’s space.”

“Fuck that. Find them.”

“Aww shit,” I hear him mutter.

“What?”

“She sent me a pic.”

“So?”

“She’s with a guy.”

“What guy?” I yell. “Where’s Tessa?”

“With them.”

“Send me the picture,” I grit out.

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