Page 95 of Composed
“Okay.” Her voice is soft, almost melodic as she nods. “Now, what do you say we finish these next drinks, and go somewhere a bit more lively…”
I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips. “I have to be in the studio bright and early.”
“So, you don’t want to go get rat-arsed in a dingy nightclub with me?”
Rat-arsed might be an understatement for my current state.
Pretty sure I’m in totally fucking trolleyed territory at this point.
I blink against the flickering strobe lights, the club floor spinning beneath me. An empty bottle dangles from my hand as I push through the bobbing bodies on the dancefloor on my hunt for Theo.
She said she was going to get more drinks, but that was at least ten minutes ago. I think. Time seems to have lost all meaning at this point.
I stumble to the bar, tripping over a tree of a man.
“Sorry,” I mumble as large hands curl around my shoulder and steady me.
“You okay?” A droll voice asks.
I nod, tipping my head back. “Yes, thank you. I’m searching for a friend.”
“Do you need any help?” he asks.
I squint up at the man and my nose wrinkles. “No, thank you. I’m out.”
He releases me, and I shuffle past him.
I spy Theo at the end of the bar, one ankle kicked up between her as she bounces to get the bartender's attention, though her eyes linger on me.
“Oh my god!” I shout over the din of pop music and loud chatter. “I thought I’d lost you.”
She laughs, then looks at me with wide eyes, then laughs again. “I mean you did, ten years ago.”
“That hurt.” I snicker. “But yeah, that was bad of me, wasn’t it?”
“Terrible,” she says, threading her arm through mine as the server finally clocks her. “A bottle of your finest champagne, sir.”
He looks between us, amusement pulling at his lips. “You sure? You’re looking at nine-hundred quid.”
Theo’s nose crinkles and she blinks before looking at me. “God, can you remember when we could barely afford a pint on pound a pint night?” She turns back to the server and grins cheekily. “Make it two bottles.”
“Alright, coming right up.” He hands over a card reader. Theo roots around in her clutch. I nudge her with my hip, tug my bank card out of my pocket, and tap it.
I’m snagging the receipt just as she yells, “Aha, got it.” She turns to me with a scowl. “Saint was paying.”
I wave her off. “He can get it next time.”
“Next time?”
She snatches up the bottles in one hand, throws an arm around my waist and steers us on unsteady feet up the stairs to the VIP area that she paid an extortionate amount of money to private rent for the night.
That should have been my first clue she already planned to drag our cocktails into vodka and dancing.
“This mean you wanna hang out with me again, Rix?” She asks. “You gonna stick around this time?”
I drop my head on hers, as a truth spills from my lips without thought, “I never planned to leave the first time. I just… I was so broken back then, Theo. I couldn’t break him too.”
“And now?” she asks quietly. “Are we gonna have to watch you walk away again?”
