Page 44 of Knights Game

“Fuck, that’s cold,” I mutter.

The outside is just as the name suggests, a terrace, with wooden beams and vines wrapping round it, fairy lights wrap around the thick wooden beams, twinkling like stars. Unless that’s just my hazy eyesight.

“Layla!” Katy calls, and I see her draped over a man.

“There you are. You left me,” I say dramatically, dropping onto the spare stool. “He’s here,” I whisper at her, but it comes out in more of a shrill cry. “He’s fucking here.”

The guy says something in Katy’s ear, and she laughs. “Who’s here?”

“Luca,”

“Fuck off!”

“I will not.”

“Have you spoken to him.”

“I just dry-humped him on the dance floor.” I face-palm myself, and Katy squeals with laughter.

“That’s priceless. This is Mark.”

“Hello, Mark.”

“I work with him.” She smiles coyly.

“She’s going to come home with me tonight,” he says grinning.

“She is not. I don’t piss where I sleep.”

“We aren’t going to be sleeping.” He waggles his eyebrows and then leans in and kisses her. She holds his face back, laughing.

I grin at the display, but my neck bristles and I still feel like I’m being watched, by him. I look around the beautiful terrace and notice the security cameras. Is he watching behind them? “I’m going to get a water.”

“Go find him,” she says, “Go fuck him. Remember what tonight was about.”

“Fuck it!” we both shout in unison. And laugh.

“Will you still be here?”

“Here or dance floor.”

“Don’t ditch me,” I say, pointing. “Bros before hoes. Remember.”

“Isn’t it sisters before misters?”

“Well, whatever, just stay here.”

I head back to the bar and wait in the queue desperate for a glass of water to help sober me up, I feel all fuzzy.

“Layla, wasn’t it?”

Levi. Standing next to me, his shirtsleeves rolled up to show off his impressive tattoo sleeves. Barely any skin shows, patterns, symbols and pictures intertwine in an impressive piece of artwork.

He glances down at my chest, and I cringe.

Levi radiated power and dominance, and there’s just something in the way he looks at me that makes me feel uncomfortable. I meet his eyes and nod.

“You know, I don’t really like being lied to.” He looks down at the brown liquid in his crystal glass, swilling it around before taking a sip.

---