“Everyone needs to get out. The cleaners are coming,” Jordan shouts through the house late in the afternoon.
Zayn intertwines his hand with mine as we walk ourselves upstairs. I wince from the light of the day hitting my throbbing head. I feel like a bus has run me over. I need at least a week of sleep to recover from this weekend.
“Vi.”
My heart drops at the sound of Rya’s voice. I don’t know how to feel about anything right now. Did she go behind my back on purpose? Zayn keeps his hand intertwined with mine as I look over my shoulder. Rya and Ezra are walking down the stairs. Rya's eyes are wide, and her mouth has fallen open as she stares, frozen in shock, at us holding hands. I give her a slight smile, and then I’m caught off guard by Ezra's expression. His face is tight, his eyes fixed on the ground, like hurt is running through him.
I’m confused.
Is he hurt by me and Zayn?
He slept with Rya.
Does he think I don’t know?
Does Rya know I know?
We all get into the car and drive back home in silence. Unspoken emotions and questions linger the entire way home. Every so often, I glance around, but no one meets my gaze. Each one of us is trapped in our own thoughts, not knowing what to say. I try and shake the feeling off when we get home—but I know nothing will be the same.
Present Day
I cringe at the tequila shot I choke down. The music blares in my ears.
“Everyone is staring at you,” Zay says.
I gave him that nickname when we were kids because he and Ezra kept calling me Vi, so I shortened their names—even though their names are short enough. I call Zayn ‘Zay’ and Ezra ‘Ez’.
He leans in and kisses my neck, making a shiver run down my spine. “I’m going to have to bend you over right here and show everyone that you’re taken.”
I giggle as he nibbles my neck and look around the club. There are a ton of guys here gazing intensely at every girl that walks by. They look like they're out for one thing: to get laid.
“Come dance with me.” Rya pulls me onto the dance floor, grinding her ass against me.
“Where’s Ez?” I shout over the music, swaying my hips to match hers.
She shrugs her shoulders and leans into my neck. “I don’t know. He got upset and walked away from me,” she says with the smell of tequila lingering on her breath.
I wonder if it’s because he’s over the party scene too. All weekend, we were dragged from club to club by Rya. Don’t get me wrong, it has been fun, but it’s still exhausting, and I’m going to feel it when I get home. So many people sent in orders while I was away.
I let all the worries slip away from me as the music pulls me deeper into the rhythm. The beat pulses through the floor, making my feet and hips move with the tempo. My body feels lighter, like the weight of everything else disappeared. The vibration of the bass runs up my spine—a sensation that makes my heart race and my whole body come alive. I glance over at Rya, and she’s lost in the same beat, her smile wide.
The effects of the alcohol swirl in my veins, making everything around me feel light and fun. The flashing lights pulse with the beat. Everyone dances, carefree. I’m sure it’s because of the effects of the alcohol running through their bodies.
Someone grabs my hips and pulls me to them. I look over my shoulders and find my husband Zayn grinding on my ass, his penis growing harder with each sway of my hips.
He leans into my neck. “Come with me,” he says, deep and low.
“I’ll be back,” I yell to Rya, looking around the crowd; I still can’t see Ez anywhere. “Where is Ez?” I ask. He grabs my hand and walks us out of the crowd.
“He was off drinking somewhere.”
He leads me into a small hallway, where the lights are low and dim. No one is around. The music becomes more distant the further we walk. “Where are we going?”
He says nothing and leads me further in.
He stops and looks around before pulling me into a small corner with curtains. He moves one curtain over, and a red velvet couch is in the corner of the room.
What the hell?
