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Half of me wanted to run into Steve and Luc, and the other half prayed I wouldn’t. Now that the story was becoming clearer, I was regretting vanishing so violently all those years ago.
When Max and I were together, I spent nearly every day with the four of them in Steve’s mum’s garage. It had become so ingrained in my life that I didn’t know what to do with myself after I left. The day I found my flat destroyed changed too many things for me to go back. I never saw them again after I left Oxford.
As I approached the bar, I saw the familiar silhouette of Luc. I pushed down my smile, overjoyed at seeing him again, even just from behind.
He rested against the neon-blue bar top, his right leg stuck out behind him, the colour reflecting off his pale skin and pinstripe shirt, dying his blond hair turquoise.
I wanted to sneak up on him, give him a fright, but I was worried about damaging his knee. Luc had been on the way to a promising football career when he fell and smashed his kneecap at sixteen. Fortunately, it led to better things, like becoming the lead guitarist of Clutch.
“You’re a trip hazard,” I called out to him over the pumping base, sliding into the empty spot beside him.
I couldn’t leave without saying hello. I just hoped I sounded casual instead of showing my nerves.
Luc turned, his eyes lighting up, his face splitting into a grin as he saw me. We were tucked into the corner, under the stairs to the mezzanine, out of the way of the dancers and far enough away from the speakers we could talk without yelling, despite the dull thud shaking the floor.
“Well, if it isn’t my Pretty Kitty,” Luc purred.
I hadn’t heard that one in years. Only Luc ever called me that. It started as a way to annoy Max, and it stuck.
I’d forgotten how smooth his voice was —lower than Max’s, with the finest trace of an accent. He pulled in his leg and stood, dwarfing me at six foot five. Luc emigrated to the UK from Sweden when he was ten, but I never found out the full story about his parents. He was tall and blond, with a harsh stare and unreadable expression that could intimidate you if you weren’t used to it. He was shockingly handsome, his family genes blessing him with classic Nordic gorgeousness.
Without warning, he bent down and wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t know how to react. I ended up freezing, my hands stuck in the air like a doll, and my purse caught between us. The shock must have been obvious on my face, but he didn’t see.
Though I’d read stories about Luc turning into a playboy, I didn’t remember him being a hugger.
As he continued his hold, I relaxed into him, letting my hands fall to his shoulders and feeling him sigh against me. I might have been angry with the guys, but they were still my friends, even if it had been years. I’d been closest to Luc after Max, and I missed him in ways I couldn’t miss Max. I still wanted to shout at them all for letting it happen. But no matter how much I felt Max betrayed me, I was the one who walked away from them.
Time stretched as we held each other.
“Does he know you’re here?” Luc asked when he pulled back.
I thought we’d part, and I went to step away from him, but his hands stroked down my shoulders to my elbows, comfortably holding me close like we’d only seen each other yesterday.
“No, but he doesn’t need to.” I leant back, his hands slipping to my forearms as I rested my elbows on the bar, my chest pushed forward.
Luc languidly ran his gaze over me, the white jumpsuit and red heels obviously working for him. He zeroed in on my red bra, a hint of it showing through the V of the fabric splitting between my breasts. His lips curved in appreciation as he released me, sliding onto the bar stool on his right.
He took a sip from the bottle next to his elbow, keeping his eyes fixed on me.
“Why are you here, Kitty Cat? It’s not a good place for you.”
I was sure Luc wasn’t specifically talking about the volatile way Max and I kept colliding, but it was my first thought.
“Is the Park Plaza really such a scary place to be?” I was teasing, but I didn’t like his concern.
I didn’t want him to care. He didn’t know me anymore, and I didn’t know who he was now.
“No.” He pursed his lips in concern. “But the execs like to put us in a boiling pot, throw in a bunch of reporters and dramatic celebrities, and seal the lid. Makes for ‘good’ bad press. You’re too much of a liability when ‘darling Maxxy’ is around.”
“If you know that’s what they’re doing, why did you come?”
He shrugged. “It gives me something to do. Plus, I’m kind of obligated to attend.” He pointed the tip of his bottle to the wall hanging with his name and photo emblazoned across it. “I’m serious though. I don’t want you caught in the middle of something. You’re too important to us.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Luc.” I looked up at him, unmoved by the concern lacing his face. “We haven’t seen each other for ten years. I’m not falling for it.” Though I’d missed him like crazy.
He talked like I was still part of their group. Even if he said he cared, I didn’t want to believe him. I only reserved my fiery rage for Max, but there was still space for a minor grudge or two.
“I mean it.” He leant towards me, his voice lower, moving his hands to curl around my bicep. “It wasn’t just Max you left. I lost you too.”
