Page 13 of A Simple Reminder

I take a step forward, intending to intercept her, but hesitate, unsure how to approach her. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. The feeling of regret is almost suffocating as I watch her draw nearer. What am I going to say?Hey, Soph, I saw a video of a man trying to dance with you, and I did not like that at all because the idea of someone touching you, even though you’re not mine, drives me nuts. Oh, and I also want to break every single one of his fingers?Yeah, not happening.

She’s almost at the bar, so I scan the room for the man in the video, hoping not to find him lurking nearby. The thought of him anywhere near makes my blood boil up again. Which is not exactly helpful right now. I’m supposed to be playing it cool, dammit.

When Sophie finally looks up and sees me, her face goes through a range of emotions. Her eyes widen in confusion, and her mouth slightly drops open before she quickly closes it, furrowing her eyebrows. Then, to my surprise, her expression brightens.

“Liam!” Her voice bursts with excitement, cutting through the noise around us like it’s meant just for me.

Before I can even respond, she opens her arms and runs toward me, throwing herself into my embrace with such force that I stumble back a step. My hands instinctively grip her waist to steady us. The feel of her against me—soft, warm, and treasured—sets my nerves alight, like a live wire sparking beneath my skin.

This is not the welcome I was expecting. But I’m not complaining.Not in the slightest.

“Soph,” I manage to say, my voice quieter than I intended, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment. All I can register is the scent of her hair, the warmth of her arms around my shoulders, and the way her laughter vibrates through my chest. It’s dizzying.

She leans back just enough to look at me, her smile so warm and infectious that it momentarily overpowers the glazed, slightly unfocused look in her eyes. She’s drunk. Of course, she’s drunk. Otherwise, I’d never be greeted like this.

The realization hits hard. Her enthusiasm isn’t genuine, not the way I’d want it to be

Adeline releases a soft chuckle, and my gaze meets hers. Her head is tilted to the side as she watches us with a raised eyebrow. ”This is unexpected.”

Sophie pulls back, her hands still resting on my shoulders but the smile is still plastered on her face. ”What are you doing here?”

I let go of her awkwardly, glancing between her and Adeline. ”I came with a friend,” I recycle the lie.

“Where is this so-calledfriend?” Adeline asks, her tone dripping with mock suspicion as she draws out the last word for effect.

I stammer, scrambling for a plausible story. “He’s, uh, somewhere around here. We got separated in the crowd.” My eyes dart around, desperate to find a face—any face—that could support my lie. But the sea of strangers blurs together, offering nothing but a growing sense of unease.

“Riiight,” Adeline drawls, both her eyebrows raised now, clearly not convinced. “How about we get you a shot? You need to relax a bit.”

I nod, relieved for the change of subject. “Yes, that sounds good.” A shot would do well to help calm down the storm that was brewing inside of me. Adeline gestures toward the bar, and we head over. I glance back at Sophie, who’s still looking at me with a mixture of confusion and amusement on her face. She opens her mouth to say something before a redhead, who looks to be her friend, interrupts us, leaving me hanging.

Adeline orders us each a shot. The bartender pours them quickly, I pay before Adeline has time to–I knew she’d try–and down mine immediately, the burn of the tequila providing a brief distraction. She raises her glass to mine in a mock toast, a smirk playing on her lips. “Cheers to unexpected reunions.”

I manage a weak smile cocking my head slightly. “Cheers.” I clink my empty glass with hers.

“So, what’s the real reason you’re in this specific club, Liam?” How could I have forgotten that Adeline is too curious and suspicious for her own good?

“Like I said, I was just out with a friend, and we’ve heard good things about this place. So, we thought we’d check it out. I didn’t know you two would be here. It’s a nice surprise though.”

Adeline gives me a pointed look, one brow arching as a half-smirk tugs at her lips. “Uh-huh,” she says, her tone thick with disbelief. “Well, you’re here now. Might as well enjoy yourself.”

I nod, grateful she's dropping the interrogation, or more likely, pausing it. I turn to the bar, flagging down the bartender for another round.

As I wait for the shots, I steal a glance at Sophie. She’s standing next to Adeline now, her beautiful laughter drifting over to me like a melody I can’t ignore. Even with the music blasting, I hear only her. My body instinctively focuses on her whenever she’s near, as if the rest of the world fades into the background, insignificant compared to her. I can’t stop it.

It’s been ten years. I fucked up. She left me, and now I’m her boss. And as her boss, it’s my responsibility to make sure she’s alright. That’s all this is—responsibility. It’s the right thing to do. I’ve always looked out for my employees. Sophie shouldn’t be any different. Except she is, and I can’t admit it. Not even to myself.

“Three tequila shots!” The bartender calls out, breaking my reverie. I turn back to him, my attention locking in. His voice cuts through the noise of the bar, grounding me for a second in the ordinary, even as my mind races with everything that's far from it. I don't miss how his gaze lingers on Sophie, a flicker of something I recognize all too well. Keep those eyes away, I think, the warning flashing through my mind unbidden.

I quickly pull out my wallet and hand the bartender a one hundred bill, telling him to keep the change. His eyes nearly pop out of his head in surprise, but he nods appreciatively and quickly pushes the shots toward me, each adorned with a lemon wedge on top, reminding me to use it this time. I pass the shots to the girls and raise my glass in the air.

“Cheers,” I say, about to bring the glass to my lips, but Sophie stops me with a playful wag of her finger.

“No, no,” she says, her pink lips curling into a smile that’s impossible to ignore. “You need to cheer for something.”

“Like this,” she says, raising her glass high. “Cheers to future possibilities and success.”

Then she nods at me and Adeline before her tongue glides over her hand, slow and deliberate, before she downs the shot and bites into the lemon, her lips wrapping around it as she sucks. It’s such a normal act while taking a tequila shot, but there’s nothing normal about the way it twists something hot and dark in my gut.

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