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“But you’re drunk.”
“I only had half a shot and you snatched it away before I could finish it. I’m perfectly sober.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’ll call an Uber.”
“That’s not exactly safe.”
“I’ll ask Papa’s chauffeur to pick me up. Is that safe enough?”
“I guess. I’d rather we take you home.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“Just go before Jeremy hates me some more for daring to occupy your time.”
“Since when do you care what he thinks of you?”
“I don’t. I care about you, and you love the twat, so I have to put up with him.”
She gives me a quick hug. “Love you. Let’s watchBridget Jones’s Diarytomorrow, deal?”
“Deal.”
“Text me when you get home.”
“Yes, Mum.” I salute.
She gives a subtle shake of her head before she moves in Jeremy’s direction. Cecily chances one last look at me, her brows drawing together, and I can see her contemplating either staying or forcing me to go home early like a granny.
I fake my best smile and send her kisses. Before she can change her mind, Jeremy appears in front of her like a mountain. His hand slips to her lower back with subtle possessiveness and he drops a quick but passionate kiss on her mouth that makes her forget about me.
Only momentarily, though, because she keeps looking at me as he hauls her out of the club, warding off any unwanted attention.
She deserves all of that and more. If there’s anyone in the world who’s owed happiness and a man who only brightens up when she’s around, it’s Cecily.
I’m slightly envious of what she has, but then again, to get something like that, someone needs to be as selfless and as pure-hearted as she is.
Innocent, maybe.
Less mentally sick.
More…normal.
So it’s pointless for me to even hope for what she has—what all my friends have.
I snatch a glass from a passing man’s hand, down it, and nearly cough.
Whiskey. Yikes.
Still, I have manners. So I kiss my finger and place it to his mouth in the form of a thanks as I stroll back to the dance floor.
One more hour.
I’m not ready to face the emptiness that comes afterward.
