Page 104 of Pick Me Up On Tuesdays

For a moment, I thought they were about to see right through Ethan’s ridiculous story. I braced myself for the worst—for them to call us out, to throw us out, to turn us into frogs or something—but then the taller witch sighed.

“Fine,” she muttered. “You may enter.”

Wait.

What?

I blinked. They… had actually fallen for that?

The second witch stepped aside, motioning toward the entrance. “Enjoy yourselves. And stay out of trouble.”

Ethan flashed them a charming grin. “Of course. Thank you.”

And with that, he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the doors before I could even process what had just happened.

The moment we stepped inside, I whipped around to face him, whisper-shouting, “What the hell was that?!”

Ethan just grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “That, Clark, was the art of persuasion.”

I scowled. “That was a terrible lie.”

“But it worked.”

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “You are insufferable.”

Ethan winked. “And yet, here you are, holding my hand.”

I immediately dropped it. “I hate you.”

He laughed as we stepped through the hallway.

“Come on, babe, let’s get those drinks.”

Inside, the bar was a storm of flashing neon lights, thumping bass, and the chaotic mix of voices shouting over music. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, mingling with the warmth of bodies pressed together on the dance floor. Laughter, cheers, and the occasional crash of a glass being knocked over filled the space, a perfect blend of energy and recklessness.

Ethan and I stepped further in, weaving through the crowd. He walked like he belonged there, comfortable and at ease, while I felt like an imposter in my fake beard and my cake-cream infested hoodie.

Then, he stopped abruptly and turned to face me, his ocean eyes gleaming with something that immediately made me wary.

“What now?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He smirked. “Dance with me.”

I snorted. “Absolutely not.”

Ethan tilted his head. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t dance.”

His smirk widened. “That’s a lie.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No, it’s really not.”

“You’re telling me that in all your years of nerd existence, you’ve never danced?”

I knew where this was heading. That smirk. Of course, he had seen that video—the way I danced and did an unprecedented backflip at a party in his mansion. FYI I was drunk at the moment.

“Not when I’m sober,” I admitted begrudgingly.

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