AllFreeNovel
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I like that he had gone to such great lengths to punish me. Maybe it wasn’t punishment. It probably wasn’t in his head.
It was only a way to get to know each other better.
And now I know a lot more about him.
I walk away from a bright sunny day and enter a cold interior with colorful lights, large mirrors, multiple bars, and people. Loners. Or people like me who can’t sleep.
Hard to believe, I danced the night away in this venue. Here, I met Isla and her friends. I also ran away from Kai and his friends.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks.
I go for a glass of sparkling water and a slice of lemon. There’s no way I can put anything else in my mouth.
Maybe the water will flush out the tension from my system.
Midway through the second glass of water, I look around. There are a few more bars in the club, and one is in the opposite corner, where the back, the black hair, and the dark red shirt of a man seize my attention.
Alejandro??
A red-haired woman sits next to him at the bar, and my heart somersaults.
Why did it do that?
My pulse spikes as I curl my fingers around my glass and ponder whether to go to him or not.
Hello…? Loser-type behavior alert.
What is he doing here? Is he having a date with that woman? She wears an elegant dress like me, has a mane of crimson hair, and she is pretty.
This makes no sense.
They sit next to each other, and I don’t pick up on any telling sign. Do they know each other? Are they casual acquaintances? Have they struck a conversation at the bar?
I’m torn.
She looks at him while she speaks, and he tilts his gaze to her from time to time, but his stance says he’s not open to the idea of her. He has his elbows propped on the counter. And he faces the bar.
Regardless, they’re engaged in a conversation.
Maybe she’s had a bad night like me? Or maybe she is having a date with him? At eight o’clock in the morning? Or nine? Or ten? Are people that weird in Miami?
No, they’re not.
I’m not from Miami, and here I am. I can’t even say it’s the jet lag. There is no jet lag.
I clear my throat.
“Is everything okay?” the bartender asks in a concerned voice.
“Yes. Everything is fine.”
Now that he’s caught me gawking, I straighten out of my seat.
“My friend is over there…” I say.
He smiles.
“Sure.”
