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Sober me would not have taken his hand, but inebriated me was suddenly reckless. I shook it with the strength I normally reserved for stubborn jar lids. His eyes widened at the force of my grip, but he said nothing.
I reached for the wine he’d placed in front of me, and despite my good intentions took a large mouthful. ‘If you’re trying to get me drunk, it’s not going to work,’ I informed him. ‘And there’s zero possibility of me going home with you, so save your money,’ I added for good measure.
‘I’m pretty sure I haven’t asked you to,’ he replied pleasantly.
I turned towards him and felt the room waver as it tried to keep up with my head. ‘Well, don’t bother, because I really don’t like you.’
‘Fair enough,’ he said, his hand reaching out, lightning fast, as I swayed on my seat. I stared down at where it rested on my arm and within seconds it was gone – and so was he. He returned moments later, with a pitcher of water jingling with ice cubes.
‘Drink,’ he instructed, pouring out a generous tumbler. I noticed he too had switched from beer to something non-alcoholic.
‘So, are you always this grumpy, or is it only when you’re around me?’ Finn asked, the amusement still lingering in his voice as he watched me drain the glass of water.
‘No, it’s just you,’ I said with an assertive nod. ‘I really don’t like you at all. And Ireallyneeded that job.’
‘The one atGlow?’
I turned my head slowly because it still felt as though it was not quite secured to my neck. ‘Of course the job atGlow. The one you’ve got.’
Was there a pause before he replied? My faculties were no longer sharp enough to be sure. ‘I haven’t got that job,’ he said.
I searched his face, which had mysteriously grown more attractive as the evening progressed. Although, sadly, the same couldn’t be said for his personality. ‘You’re lying.’
Finn shook his head. ‘Why would I do that? I don’t know who the new feature writer atGlowmagazine is, but it definitely isn’t me.’
*
‘Oh God. Never again. Never, ever again,’ I moaned, taking the paracetamol packet from Hannah’s outstretched hand.
The midday sun was slicing painfully through my bedroom window, doing what I feared might be irreparable damage to my retinas. ‘I am never drinking again.’
Hannah smiled knowingly.
‘What time did I get back last night?’ I asked, trying to put together the jigsaw pieces of the previous evening. It already felt as though several vital sections might be missing.
‘The taxi dropped you off just after midnight.’
‘A taxi? Oh God, I didn’t have enough cash for a cab. Did you or William have to pay?’ I asked, already panicking about how much I now owed them. The bar had been miles away.
‘No. It was already paid for.’
‘Ohhh,’ I groaned, burying my head beneath my pillow, suddenly feeling sick for a great many reasons.
‘You don’t remember the evening?’ Hannah probed worriedly.
‘Bits of it,’ I mumbled shamefully into the duck down.
Very gently, Hannah lifted the pillow from my face and smoothed back the tangled curls from my sweat-sticky forehead.
‘I remember being pretty rude. And I think…’ A memory hovered on the periphery of my recollection, and I winced as it swam into clarity. ‘I think I accused him of being a liar and a cheat and of stealing the job from me.’
Hannah gulped noisily. I could hardly blame her.
‘And then I told him that if I ended up homeless and living on the streets it would all be his fault.’
‘Oh well, you were drunk,’ Hannah said with a sigh, as though that somehow absolved me of being an idiot.
I shook my head and instantly regretted such foolishness. ‘I was not a nice person last night,’ I admitted sorrowfully, closer to tears than I wanted to acknowledge.
