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“I’ll get it out,” I tell him and lean into his bicep as we wait for our drinks. “I think I'm seeing double,” I comment dryly and twist to Em, grinning deviously.
“That will be the double shots.” She pulls a mischievous face and smacks a kiss on my cheek. “I needed this night out. I am so sloshed I could make some hefty mistakes tonight.” She laughs freely and looks round the bar.
“Not on my watch!” Jeremy sniggers.
“Uh oh. The she-devil and her obsessive, confused BF are here,” Em mutters. “Oh, and the village bully too.”
Jeremy and I both turn and see Cameron and his friends across the room. They look to be playing pool. I’ve not had to see any of them over the last few weeks. At horse riding, both Cam and I stick to opposite ends of the yard. It’s perfect. Emily hasn’t forgotten her grudge even after Dan sent her an enormous bouquet, but when I catch her watching him coquettishly, I wonder if he will be one of her many mistakes.
“Let's hang by the bar,” I suggest.
“Who is the obsessive, confused BF?” Jer murmurs, craning his neck to find out. “BF? What’s that stand for,butt fuck?”
Em and I cry out with laughter. I grip his arm and shake my head as tears fall. Butt fuck. Oh my. That’s just brilliant.
Jer gives me a goofy grin. “What? Well, what does it mean?”
“Best friend, boyfriend,” I titter, wiping my eyes. “I can’t believe you thought it was butt fuck. You’re such a guy.”
“Thank god.” Wrapping his arm around my neck, he pulls me in and chuckles. “I assume you’re talking about wham-bam-thank-you-Cam?” he muses, looking at Em and me.
“Wham bam what?” Em cries in shock. She grips the bar for support and crosses her legs. “Oh fuck, I'm going to wee! I can’t pee here!”
Player.
That's what that means, right? Not wham-bam-thank-you-mam, but Cam. They thank him for fucking them? I feel sick.
“That's what they call him. He’s a dick and ditch,” Jeremy informs us, shooting a disgruntled look their way.
“Dick and ditch!” Em wafts her hands near her face as tears stream down her cheeks. “My bladder is going to burst. Jer, no more talking. Not until my bladder is empty!” she shouts and stagger-runs to the toilet.
I feel as though I’ve had icy water poured over my head. “Is that really what they call him?” Why am I surprised? Before me, Cameron had many girlfriends, so why would he change that after me? He has that presence. Thatthingonly a handful of men are gifted with. I don't know what that thing is or how some men can master it so well, but he has it in spades. Always did. I flick a look across the bar and Cameron is bent down, cue in his hand and ready to take his shot, but his eyes aren't on the ball.
They are on me. I drop my gaze and turn away.
“Shit, sorry, Hol, I wasn’t thinking. He has a bit of a reputation,” Jeremy apologises, then leans past me to get our drinks. “Especially after that night.” The night he cheated on me.
“Nothing to do with me,” I cut in and smile, picking up my drink and taking a big sip.
“Yeah, I guess it was a lifetime ago. I never regret taking you to London,” he admits, rubbing my back. “I realised that night there we weren’t good friends.”
“I don't want to talk about it.” I give him a strained smile, and Jeremy leans forward, his arm running up my back and into my hair.
“You were always too good for him, Holly. Smart, beautiful. He didn't deserve you.” He sighs, dropping his eyes to my lips. He’s going to try to kiss me! I blink, unsure of what to do. Clearing my throat, I twist an inch or two away so I'm facing the bar.
“I really don’t want to get into it, Jeremy,” I repeat and chug down half of my gin.
“Sorry. I'm going to hit the men’s. Why don’t you find us a table?” He walks away, but I'm not sure I want to stay. I didn’t know he would make a pass at me. I frown into my empty glass and sigh.
A loud crack beside me makes me jump. Cameron is glaring at me with an empty glass clenched tightly in his fist. “So, you and Jeremy then, huh?” he sneers at the closed door to the men’s bathroom.
“Excuse me?”
“What happened to the worm guy?” He sniggers on a mocking shake of his head. Worm guy?
“You’re drunk.” I scoff, signalling the bartender over to give me something else to do.
“And you’re getting around.” He wobbles slightly, so I know he is drunk. Drunk enough to indirectly call me a slut.
