Page 117 of The Invitation

I’m not so drunk I can’t remember the filthy things he’s done to me. I grin to myself. Then frown. Did I tell the girls about the champagne cellar? Abbie reaches for my phone and taps the message, then puts in my passcode. “I hope you had a lovely evening with your girls,” she reads, in a shockingly bad and very slurry male’s voice. “What time shall I pick you up tomorrow?” She frowns. Looks at me. “You’re seeing him tomorrow?”

“I thought we weren’t talking about men tonight?”

“No men!” Charley yells.

“He’s fucked up.” I scowl to myself, wondering where that came from.

“What?”

“That’s what he said,” I go on. “He’s fucked up.” The best thing I could do was leave, except he didn’t let me when I tried. Not that I really wanted to.

“Have you asked him about that?” Abbie says, her serious face contradicting the slur of her voice.

“He said he doesn’t want to ruin this. That he should have told me about Katherine.”I’m a fuckup.The anger he was projecting when he bellowed those words makes me feel like there’s more to it. Why would he tell me to leave and crack on with my life? Jesus, I’m too drunk to give this the headspace it deserves.

“That is quite sweet, though.” Charley smiles to herself. “Jude texting her.”

“Is he allowed to be sweet if he’s filthy?” Abbie asks.

“I don’t know.” Charley pouts. “Let’s call him and ask.” She lunges for my phone and hits the contact icon on the top. It’s ringing before my drunken brain can register what’s happening.

“Amelia?” Jude’s voice is low and thick with sleepiness.

Abbie and Charley put the backs of their hands on their foreheads, fainting over the table. Then they spring up. “Filthy!” they yell in unison, before they fall apart laughing. I must be drunker than I thought. I have no idea what’s going on.

“Amelia?” Jude says, louder this time. “Are you okay?”

“Jude?” I pick up my phone and put it to my ear.

“I’m here.”

“Fuck!” I cry, feeling like a megaphone’s held by my head.

“It’s on speaker, you dick.” Abbie chuckles.

“Amelia, what’s going on?” Jude asks. “Where are you?”

I look around, picking up my fresh cocktail and slurping. “In a wine bar.” I close one eye, trying to read the neon sign on one of the shelves behind the bar. “Gropes Cock.”

“What?”

Charley’s cheeks balloon and burst, spraying us. “Shit!” I blurt. “Furry cocks ache.” I stand to wipe myself down. I shouldn’t have. “Ohfear.” I sway, seeing three of Charley and four of Abbie. “We need to book more flights if we’re all going.” I fall back to the stool, the bar spinning, Abbie’s and Charley’s laughing faces blurring in and out of focus. “I think I’ve had too many winetails.”

And that’s the end of my night.

Chapter 29

I already know before I open my eyes that this hangover is going to overstay its welcome.Jesus fucking Christ.I squeeze my closed eyes tight, groaning, bracing myself to face the world. And light.

I open one eye.

Frown.

“I’m seriously pissed off,” Jude says, his face a twisted mess of disapproving lines as he leans over my horizontal form. “Do you always drink until you’re legless and incoherent?”

“No.” My voice is quiet. Sheepish. “Hardly ever, actually.” Just a few times in as many weeks. Ironically, more since I met Jude Harrison. I grimace and ease myself up to sitting, groaning as I do. “What are you doing here?” I ask, rubbing at my eyes, my head banging so hard. Then I register where I am. “Wait, what amIdoing here?”

“I’ve never seen a woman so drunk in my life.” He stands, making the bed move. The ripple sends a shock wave through my body into my skull.

---