“You said he wouldn’t be here,” I accused, crossing my arms.
“Any chance you’d believe me if I said I had no idea he’d show up?” he asked, tilting his head with a hopeful smile.
I scowled harder.
Henry rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he grabbed my shirt and dragged me toward the bar. A quick signal to the bartender later, and two drinks appeared before us.
“Look, E,” Henry began, offering me a glass. “He’s sorry. He wants to apologize. Do you know how often I’ve heard Sebastian apologize? Fucking never—that’s how much.”
I snatched the drink and took a sip. “It’s not about that. I’m not doing this with him, Henry. I know you’ll run up there and repeat every word I say, so tell him this: I want him to leave me alone.”
Henry sighed, annoyed. “Why are you so upset? It was just a kiss.”
I slammed the glass down on the bar, the sound cutting through the music. “Because he didn’t mean any of it!” I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. My frustration bubbled over. “It’s a joke to him. He doesn’t care that he’s fucking with my head. For what? To sleep with me and then move on to the next guy? I’m not playing this game.”
Henry’s expression softened, confusion replacing his usual flippancy. “It wasn’t about the kiss?”
I shrugged, exhaling hard. “Yeah, that too. I don’t want to get fucked over nothing.”
“But you knew Ash was never serious, right?” Henry asked cautiously. “I mean, E, he’s like…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “Ash isn’t like me, if that’s what you’re worried about, but he’s not the guy you go to for a relationship. You knew that, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what I thought,” I admitted, my voice quieter now. “I stopped thinking, and now I’ve started again. Just tell him to stay away.”
Henry nodded, resigned.
I returned to our table, grabbing the bottle and pouring another drink. Maya wandered over, her expression curious.
“He sent that over,” she said, gesturing toward the bottle.
“What?”
“The waiter said it was from Sebastian,” she explained, raising an eyebrow.
Glancing toward the balcony, I found him still standing there. Watching. Always watching.
I huffed, grabbing my glass and downing it in one go. The warmth of the alcohol did little to chase away the cold knot in my stomach.
The night blurred as our small group grew. I pulled a girl onto the dance floor, desperate to drown out the twisting feeling in my chest. She was pretty, into me, and I wanted to feel something—anything other than the weight of Sebastian’s eyes.
She kissed me. I kissed her back. But it was hollow, empty, wrong. All I could think about was him, standing up there, watching every move I made.
When we finally parted, I felt like an asshole. She deserved better, and I wasn’t that guy—casual hookups had never been my thing, not after everything with my parents.
Mumbling an apology, I excused myself and made my way to the restroom.
On my way back, an arm slung over my shoulders.
“Having fun?” Henry asked, his grin back in place, but his eyes were sharper than usual. “Take a walk with me,” Henry said, steering me toward the back of the club.
“I’m actually in the middle of something,” I protested, but he didn’t stop.
“Are you drunk?” he asked, giving me a sidelong glance.
I shrugged.
“Good,” he said, ignoring my resistance as he kept moving. He started up the stairs, and my stomach sank.
“I’m not going up there,” I said firmly, shaking my head.