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With Ava beside me, I forget about earlier tonight as we drink our worries away and dance to the music that plays. Ava is always one to be the life of the party, and right now, I welcome her outgoing personality and overbearing need to drink ourselves into a stupor.
Then, it becomes the moment we’ve all been waiting for. The clock strikes midnight, prompting us to ring in the new year the only way we can—more drinking and dancing.
The crowd becomes even rowdier after midnight. A few grab the microphone, singing their renditions of pop classics. Some men get lucky, disappearing with women they’d only just met. I lose count of how many drinks I’ve chugged, my limbs falling numb while I enjoy dancing as if the world outside this pub doesn’t exist.
Then, Ava asks if it’s okay to call Millie, to which I agree. Like I give a fuck anymore. That boat has long sailed, and I fucked a hell of a lot of women to get over her. It worked, obviously, since seeing her on the screen doesn’t evoke any romantic feelings. It is, however, surreal to see her again, and even though she didn’t confirm the words, I’d heard through the grapevine she’d gotten married and adopted a son. I don’t ask questions. It’s not my place to get involved in her life anymore.
The damage is done, and Millie has her billionaire prince charming.
After ending the call abruptly, thanks to Ava’s accidental finger slip, she offers drinks on the house, to which everyone cheers. I laugh, keeping my opinion to myself. If anyone has the money, it’s the daughter of Lex Edwards.
Alistair yells for the final round, which is met with a lot of boos. I bring my phone closer to me, the blurry screen appearing to be after two in the morning.
Ava slides another glass to me, despite my focus being questionable and words slurred.
“So, where to now?” she whines with a frown. “I’m not ready for bed.”
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” I tell her honestly, downing the whisky in one go. I’d become immune, there no longer being a burn.
“Let’s go to your place?”
I turn to face her, tilting my head. “My place?”
“Look, I would offer my place, but that’s only if you don’t mind watching two men fucking each other?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Yes, Austin. I said it. A penis in another man’s asshole. So, your place?”
I don’t even know where to begin with that conversation, assuming she lives with gay roommates, but who gives a fuck—my place isn’t far, which is a bonus.
We stumble because walking would be a far cry from how we get home. The only thing which keeps us alive and protected from dying of hyperthermia is our duet of “Islands in the Stream.” A few homeless people shout, telling us to shut up.
When we finally reach my apartment, it’s slightly better but still cold. I turn on the heat and yell out for Jonah, my roommate, but remember he was at some party tonight.
“This is your place?” Ava questions while removing her jacket and throwing it on the sofa. “It’s cute.”
I laugh, almost stumbling on my own feet, to which I hold onto the wall for balance.
“Cute? I should probably be offended.”
“Okay, small. But hey, I get it. You’re a doctor and probably barely spend time here.” Ava giggles, letting out a hiccup. “I’m guessing your refrigerator has only Chinese takeout boxes.”
“Far from the truth,” I contest.
She opens the door, her eyes widening because Chinese take-out isn’t something I enjoy unless absolutely necessary. Jonah is a gym buff, and he doesn’t consume anything unless it comes in a shake.
“Okay, who’s the health nut? And is that Kale I see?”
“As you said, Miss Edwards, I am a doctor. I kind of know the importance of taking care of my body.”
Ava closes the refrigerator door, then glances my way with a simper.
“I can tell.” She nods, biting her bottom lip. “You look good. Though, you’ve always looked good. Guess I couldn’t admit that before without being crucified, huh?”
I lean against the wall, crossing my arms with a grin. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I’m old,” she blurts out.
