“Ah, new one. I got it today. I’ll see you soon,” I tell him, hanging up.
I climb into my car, the familiar scent of leather and pine air freshener enveloping me. The engine starts with a purr of the motor as I pull out of the driveway.
The drive to the club is quiet, giving me plenty of time to think of a way to build up the courage to tell Deacon about my father’s plans to marry me off. Outside the club, the thumpingmusic vibrates through my body as Deacon and I wait in line to go into the club. The longer I wait, though, the dizzier I get. I grab Deacon’s arm, and he glances at me. “Are you okay?” he whispers.
I nod, it must be vertigo. “Must be from the painkillers,” I answer.
He presses the back of his hand to my face. “Do you want me to take you home?” he asks. I shake my head, knowing it will wear off when I hear her nagging voice.
“Deacon!” Lydia calls, and I groan. Deacon turns just in time for her to throw her arms around his neck and lean into him.
“Hey, Lydia, Amber,” he states, and Lydia steps back. Deacon hugs Amber, and she pecks his cheek.
“I thought you were going to be here earlier?” Deacon says, and I cut him a glare.
What does he mean?
“We were until Maya bailed on us,” Amber states, looking disappointed.
“Ah, yeah, Maya and I had a falling out,” Deacon says, and I look at him. He never mentioned having a falling out with Maya, nor did I know he really spoke to her much.
“Her loss, she is far too sensitive sometimes,” Lydia states.
“Well, at least you made it,” Deacon shrugs.
“Wait, you invited them?” I ask him, and he looks at me.
“What, they wanted to go, chill out, Cleo? You know I’m friends with them.
What’s gotten into you?”
“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you asked me to go to the club with you then decided to invite your ex and my bitch stepsister along,” I snap, and my eyes go to Amber. “No offense, Amber,” I tell her. Truthfully, Amber wasn’t so bad when she wasn’t around Lydia.
“Jealousy is a curse,” Amber pipes in, while Deacon tries to defuse the situation.
Deciding to let it go, I turn back to the line. No wonder Lydia was so eager for me to go earlier. She knew it would piss me off when I learned Deacon invited them.
Putting those thoughts aside, I decide, despite this, that I want to enjoy myself. Once inside, I feel a sudden jolt of energy, ready to dance my problems away. But that energy quickly dissipates when I lock eyes with a tall handsome figure across the dimly lit room. Zayn. His silver eyes pierce into mine.
“I need a drink,” I tell Deacon, who nods, leading me to the bar.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“Just water,” I tell him.
“Oh, come on, Cleo. Have fun, live a little,” Lydia purrs, coming up behind me. “My treat!” she taunts, flashing her card at me. It’s not like I have a card of my own. My father took mine after Lydia stole it and racked up a huge bill. My father was furious and took it back. Now I get a cash allowance from working for him, which is dwindling fast after Lydia reversed into my car, cracking the radiator and crushing the front end. So I am glad I no longer have to worry about that bill after my father paid it.
“Fine!” Lydia orders us drinks, something called a fruit tingle, it is sickeningly sweet, and I sip mine, not intending to get drunk.
Deacon leads me to the dance floor, yet that lasts all of five minutes before my leg starts throbbing, and I have to sit.
I sit in one of the booths, watching Deacon dance with Lydia, who is shaking her ass all over him, along with Amber, who at least has the decency to keep her distance.
Lydia gives no fuck who she makes uncomfortable.
“Shouldn’t you be home resting?” Zayn demands, his voice a low rumble coming from behind me. I jump, not seeing where he came from.
“Last time I checked, you weren’t my keeper,” I retort, refusing to let him control me like everyone else.
