Page 55 of Ace My Heart

I inhaled until the lump in my throat was small enough to speak around. “I promise.”

I wasn’t sure I could keep that promise. He was clearly carrying enough guilt about the whole thing. I didn’t need to be adding to it with my own issues. But it was easier to lie to him than to argue.

“Another round?” I asked, sliding my empty glass back towards the bartender. Amanda shook her head, indicating her still mostly full cocktail.

Brad watched me thoughtfully. “I’ll have a Coke this time,” he replied. “Got a shift at the hospital tomorrow, I can’t be nursing a hangover.”

I sighed. “You’re a pair of buzzkills!” I grumbled, but I ordered two Cokes. I should probably pace myself too. Joel didn’t see hangovers as an excuse to skip training.

“Hey, babe!”

I turned to see Thomas wrapping his arms around Amanda, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She flushed pink, tilting her head so their lips met. It quickly turned from innocent to almostpornographic, as he spun her on the bar stool and stepped between her knees, gripping her hips.

“Are they always like this?” I asked Brad.

He snorted, sipping at his Coke. “This is PG. Keep watching …”

“Do I have to?” I whined. Something inside my chest squeezed seeing how sweet the two of them were. Amanda’s hands were clutching at Thomas’s back now, sliding under his t-shirt.

“I miss making out,” I sighed.

Brad coughed. “Well, maybe you should be looking for guys who want to make out with you, instead of ones who want to secretly film you deep-throating them.”

I turned to Brad in shock. “Christ! That was harsh!”

He shrugged. “Sometimes the truthisharsh, Smellie.”

“Speaking of harsh …” Amanda interrupted. I turned, noticing her bee stung lips and flushed chest, and the bright spots of colour on Thomas’s cheeks. And then I followed Amanda’s eyes.

Susie Keens.

Susie Keens, my ex’sfiancée, wearing the tiniest body-hugging white dress, heels that could stab right through someone’s torso and come out the other side, and a tacky white veil with a matching satin sash with the words ‘Bride-to-be’ emblazoned on it in hot pink.

She was surrounded by a bunch of girls who looked like clones of her: fake blonde hair, fake claw-like nails, fake tans, trout pouts – also fake. They were giggling and simpering over her, as they all downed glasses of champagne.

I felt like someone had shoved Susie’s stiletto throughmychest. I hadn’t realised when that photographer had goaded me with talk about Grant marrying Susie that it was happening basically immediately.

“I’m not drunk enough for this fuckery,” I muttered, turning back and ordering a Long Island Iced Tea. Brad sighed, but said nothing.

“Come on, Mel. Just one more flight, and we’ll get you into bed,” Brad crooned.

“Oh, come on! You guys are so lame, I was just getting started!”

Was it just me, or were the stairs all different heights? That was weird, I didn’t remember them being that way before.

“Um, Mel, you were kicked out of the bar. And there is no way you would’ve been let in anywhere else.”

“Who’re you again?” I asked, flopping my head, trying to focus on the other person who was half carrying me up the stairs to my apartment.

“I’m Thomas, remember? Amanda’s boyfriend? You asked me to give you make-out lessons?”

I chortled. “Well, it looked like you and Mandy-Moo had it down to a …” I swallowed bile.

“Quick, guys, she’s going to vomit any second,” Amanda’s anxious voice rang out behind me.

“Nah, I’m good! I just need to sit down.” I tried to pull away from Brad and Thomas, but they gripped me harder.

“Your door is right there, Mel. Just a few more steps and you can sit down on your comfortable lounge.”

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