Page 10 of A Simple Reminder

I stiffen, instinctively leaning away from him, but Adeline isn’t having it. She steps closer, her expression hardening. “I said back. Off.” Her voice is louder now, cutting through the bass of the music.

He finally lets go, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, fine,” he mutters, but not before leaning in closer than necessary, his breath brushing against my ear. “You’re a five anyway,” he sneers before disappearing into the crowd.

I don’t care about random men’s opinions of me—not in the slightest—but Adeline sure does. “YOUR MOTHER IS A FIVE!” she yells after him, her brows furrowed in fierce anger as she glares at his retreating figure. A few people stop dancing to stare, but Addie doesn’t notice.

The absurdity of her response catches me off guard, and I burst out laughing, the sound bubbling up before I can stop it. Even in situations like this, she manages to make me feel better. It’s one of those deep, uncontrollable belly laughs that shakes my shoulders and leaves me gasping for air. When my eyes meet Adeline’s, it only makes it worse—I laugh even harder.

Her eyes shoot daggers at the guy’s back, but the corners of her lips twitch. Amusement creeps into her expression, and within seconds, she’s laughing with me. We clutch at each other, laughing until tears form in the corners of our eyes, and the tension of the moment is nothing but a distant memory.

When the laughter dies out, I once again bring up my suggestion, “How about that shot?”

Adeline nods eagerly, her earlier irritation forgotten as we head to the red bar that stretches across the room. Its polished surface gleams under the soft glow of the overhead lights. Rows of gleaming liquor bottles line the back shelves, and the bartender stands ready as we approach, his shoulder-length hair adding to his rugged appearance. My brain immediately conjures up a story about him. He looks like a rock star, so he probably plays the electric guitar and sings in a band on the weekends. I have a strong urge to ask him.

“Heeeey,” Adeline and I sing in unison, and my curiosity takes over—or rather, my drunkenness. “Are you in a band?” I sound like a groupie. But afunandhotgroupie, at least that’s what Adeline would say.

He chuckles, a hint of glee in his eyes as he looks at the two of us. “I wish, gorgeous,” he replies, his voice carrying a slight raspiness, “but sadly, I’m just a bartender.”

He called me gorgeous. Despite the slight embarrassment, a warm feeling spreads through me. When did I become that girl? The one who gets flustered by a compliment from a handsome man? Has it been that long since someone actually gave me attention—not counting the man who snuck up behind me moments ago?

Adeline elbows me, a mischievous grin on her face. “I think he likes you,” she whispers teasingly, and I roll my eyes at her.

“Oh, shut up,” I say, trying to keep my cool and praying he didn’t hear her.

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, a small smile tugging on his lips.

Adeline lifts two fingers in the air. “Two tequila shots, please.”

The bartender nods, his smile widening a bit. “Coming right up,” he says before grabbing the tequila bottle. While waiting for him to pour the shots, I take out my phone and open social media for a quick check. I click through my stories, smiling as I watch Adeline sing to the bar’s patrons.

There’s a message from Leora filled with laughing emojis as a response to that specific video. I check who else has viewed my stories because I’m obviously human, and when I see a particular name, my heart stops for a second.Liam Ayoub.

Why has he been watching my stories? He doesn’t follow me anymore and he hasn’t watched my stories in a very long time. Not that I’ve been checking.

I have. I have been checking from time to time.

I tap on the profile I know all too well, my fingers trembling ever so slightly. Needing to see more of him. But to my dismay, it’s private, and I can’t see anything except his profile picture. His dark hair is longer in the small picture, almost curling at the top, so unfairly perfect like his brother Lucas’s, and he’s smiling, a genuine smile that reaches his eyes—a smile I know too well.

A smile that once made me feel like the most important person in the world, a smile that made promises we never got to see, a smile that could melt my heart, even after all this time.

Before I can dwell any further, Adeline turns to me, a tequila shot in each hand. Her brow quirks. “Why are you smiling at your phone?” I hadn’t even noticed that I was smiling, so I quickly wipe it off my face. She puts the shots down on the bar with a knowing look and reaches for my phone.

“Oh, it’s Liam. Why aren’t you following each other?” I try to come up with a nonchalant, appropriate answer, but once again, I don’t have time to answer before I see Adeline’s finger tap the follow button.

Oh my God.

No.

No.

No.

I can't even ask her why she did that because why would I care? To Adeline, Liam is just our best friend’s husband’s brother. That’s it. No big deal.

My eyes go to my watch. It’s two in the morning! Who follows someone at two in the morning? Let alone your new boss, who’s also your ex. This is a mess. An epic, spiraling-into-chaos mess.

Oh, he’s going to think I’m drunk–which I am. But he doesn’t have to know that.

Maybe I’m lucky. Maybe he’s asleep. That gives me plenty of time to remove the follow request. Phew, crisis averted.

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