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My blonde hair falls forward, shielding my face. In a black silk dress, I’m dressed similarly to most every other girl out on the street. The dimly lit pub shadowed my features. Streetlights illuminate our every step, and I really don’t want to be recognized tonight. It might be the one time my sweet public persona slips.
We make it to the entrance of the club Maude spotted without incident. The line to enter is short, but it still feels strange to stand in. I’m used to VIP treatment anywhere I go.
Maude strikes up a conversation with the group of guys in line behind us. They sweep us into their crew as we enter the club, obviously familiar with the place. We end up at the bar first. Even knowing it’s a bad idea, I accept the shot of gin I’m offered. One of the guys co-owns the gin distillery that produces it, according to what little I catch over the pounding bass. Or so he claims. He’s the sole redhead in the group, which surprises me. I thought red hair was common here.
And I’m drunk enough that I decide to tell him that.
We chat for a few minutes about absolutely nothing. If there’s a thread to this conversation, I’m not following.
His accent is cute. His face is cuter. And…nothing.
I let him lead me onto the dance floor. Maude and the rest of the guys follow. We dance as a group, the thrum of the beats pulsing through my body as alcohol flows through my veins. I close my eyes and take the escape it offers.
One song flows into another and another. Until a familiar melody fills the club with its stifling presence, followed by the sound of my voice. As soon as I hear the first line, I stop dancing.
Denial dissipates.
I know exactly who I am and where I am. I slip away from the group and stumble through the crowd, not stopping until I’m back outside and pulling in lungfuls of fresh air.
“Sutton!”
I turn to see Maude emerging from the club, her face twisted into a worried expression.
“Hey, sorry. I just needed a breather.”
I wait for her to call me out. No way she missed they were just playing “Heartbreak for Two.” I can hear it all the way out here. But she doesn’t.
“You ready to go?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “As long as you don’t mind.”
“No. I’m ready too.”
I text Greg, who’s been parked, patiently waiting and on alert in case I needed him to intervene.
The ride back to the hotel is silent. The alcohol is hitting me harder without stimuli. Rather than tired, I feel like I’m burning from the inside out.
Since she’s here for a shorter time, Maude’s room isn’t on the same floor as mine. She gives me a long hug before stepping out on the seventh floor. I continue up to the tenth.
The hallway is empty. I have no idea what time it is, but I know it’s late.
For lots of reasons, I should head straight to bed. But I won’t be able to sleep, wondering if Teddy left the show tonight and headed straight to the airport.
I asked Hannah for the list of room assignments and memorized his—1019—on the off chance I gathered the courage to talk to him during our stay here. It’s halfway down the carpeted hallway, on the way to my room.
I stand outside for at least a minute before knocking on his door, just once.
Then, I hear, “I’ll grab it!” in a woman’s voice.
Horror freezes me in place…because any scenario that ended with a woman in Teddy’s hotel room is not one I want to know about.
Before I can choose flight over fight, before I can fully register what a woman in his room might actually mean, the door swings open to reveal Amelia. Her eyes widen to comic proportions when she sees me. I’m sure I look…not great.
Drunk and sweaty and panicked.
I glance behind her to see the entire band assembled in the sitting area attached to the bedroom, beers in hand. Adam. Jaxon. Blake. Jackson. Camille. And Teddy, of course.
All sitting.
