Page 75 of Mark

She gets to her feet, a cruel smirk on her face. “Good luck with Mum and Dad. They’re looking for you too.”

My brows pinch together as I sit up. “What are you talking about? What do they have to do with anything?”

She flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Well, after what you did last night, I thought they deserved to know.”

“What I did?” I question.

“You pushed me down, screaming that you hated me.”

“Bitch, no she didn’t,” Hayden snorts, dropping down on the sofa next to me. She kicks her feet up, arching a brow at my sister. “You tried dragging her away from my cousin and she got out of your grip.”

I glance down at the mark on my wrist, flashes of her gripping my wrist filling my mind. “This is from you?” I grit out.

“Don’t worry, the bitch paid for it when she went arse over tit.”

“Your family dunked me in the pool,” Esther snaps.

Hayden waves her off. “They were baptising you. If anyone needs Jesus, it’s you.”

I will not laugh.

I will not laugh.

A chuckle slips free and I look away from Esther.

“I’ll be telling Mum and Dad about this,” Esther spits out.

“Didn’t you just get married?” Hayden questions. “Grow up.”

She storms off without another word. “God, my head hurts,” I groan.

“How do you put up with that?”

I lean back, closing my eyes. “She’s like a slinky. They’re good for nothing, but the moment you throw them down the stairs, they bring a smile to your face.”

Hayden bursts out laughing. “You really are a nut. I thought it was the drink, but Mark said you were probably just warming up to us before you unleashed the crazy.”

I chuckle. “My head seriously fucking hurts. I’m never drinking with you again.”

“Why did no one wake me? I’ve missed breakfast.” I blink open my eyelids, spotting Max taking a chair. “How could you do this to me? I’m stuck with toast.”

He says that like the ten pieces of bread won’t fill him up. It also has honey and cream on the top like a stack of pancakes.

Hayden snorts. “You should handle your drink better, Dad.”

“I didn’t drink that much,” he argues.

Images once more flash through my mind. They’re of Max dancing in the middle of the dance floor, looking like he needed medical attention. “I’m pretty sure you took out three passengers with your dance moves last night,” I reply, sniggering.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with my moves,” he snaps. “I won that dance-off fair and square.”

“My nanna has better moves and she’s twice your age,” I point out.

“She isn’t wrong. It was embarrassing,” Hayden mutters. “And you didn’t win it fair and square. You took out your opponents. One guy walked away crying.”

Something else hits me, something I’m not sure is real. “Did I imagine you pole dancing?” I ask him.

A red tinge hits his cheeks. “Imagined it.”

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