Chapter 15
GIN IS THE DEVIL
Looking up to find Henry feels so confusing.
I’ve never seen him look so beautiful. It must be the gin.
I can’t pinpoint what it is, but there’s something different about him.
He’s wearing the same outfit he had on at dinner: jeans, tennis shoes, and a white polo shirt, now paired with a simple black jacket.
His hair is wavy as usual, the tips curling slightly.
There’s a crease between his brows that I want to iron out with my thumb.
Everything about him screams: It’s just Henry, so it must be the gin making me focus on his full lips, chiseled jawline, and eyes so blue they look hand-painted instead of the ringing phone in my hand.
Once the ringing stops, I’m pulled out of my trance. I tear my gaze away from his face and stare at Liam’s missed call on my screen, then at the gin and tonic in my hand.
“Hi,” I say with a stupid smile, my heart beating a couple of beats faster than it should.
I probably wasn’t supposed to be here. Not after the way I left.
Henry isn’t smiling at me, but he says hi back.
“I need to … call Liam back,” I add, lifting my phone and giving it a small shake.
“Go ahead,” he says, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “I’ll see you around.”
He walks away, and Paxton shouts his name, followed by a howl. I glance over my shoulder and Henry’s beaming at Gemma and Paxton.
So he does smile. Just not at me.
For the third time, I forget what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s only when I feel my phone in my hand that I remember and finally call Liam back.
He picks up on the second ring as I make my way outside, away from the loud music.
“Belen,” he says, breathing my name in relief.
“Heeey,” I reply, realizing my voice sounds off and an octave higher than usual, but there’s nothing I can do to fix it.
My tongue feels heavy and slow, and the cold night breeze hitting my face isn’t helping.
One would think fresh air is always a good thing, but it’s only making me feel dizzier, like I’ve run straight into a steel wall and am still recovering from the impact.
Strangely enough, I’m not feeling cold, even though I usually would in this chilly, humid weather.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” he says, sounding worried. “You turned off your phone. What’s going on? Don’t start shutting me out. Talk to me.”
Listening to his voice disarms me. I hate feeling this way about him, like I need to fight myself to stop pushing him away. It’s exhausting.
Why do I keep doing that?
“I’m sorry,” I say under my breath, a whirlwind of emotions crashing over me. Enough to make me want to toss my cup, which is already two-thirds empty. I don’t think I can finish it.
“Where are you? Are you at Gemma’s?”
“No, I’m … at this party. I’m at a party,” I say, hearing how slow and strange I sound. Can Liam tell? Or is it all in my head? “I’m with Gemma. Robbie’s here too.”
“I texted that son of a bitch a while ago, and he didn’t tell me anything about you going to a party. He said you were at Gemma’s. Tell me what’s going on, Belén.”
“I sucked in China.” My eyes water, and my throat tightens. I want to explain how I’m feeling, but my thoughts are scattered, impossible to reach.
“Then why wouldn’t you turn on your phone so we could talk about it? Or let me know you’ve arrived?”
“I didn’t follow my usual routine. I was distracted and shouldn’t have—” I cut myself off because I don’t want to do this right now.
I can’t figure out the right way to tell him we can’t be in constant communication when I’m away for a tournament without hurting his feelings.
I’m afraid it’ll come out the wrong way.
A part of me knows Dad’s right. Dating Liam might not be what’s best for my career right now. I might have to end things before it becomes more complicated or painful to do so. And my complicated feelings for Henry have already proven to be getting in the way.
“Belén?”
“Yes?”
“Are you drunk?”
“I … I don’t know,” I reply honestly. I’m clueless on what being drunk should feel like, and yes, I’ve been drinking, but am I drunk? Or am I just tired, jet-lagged, and emotional? Might be all of the above.
“I need you to tell me exactly where you are, Belén. Do you know where you are? I’ll come get you. I’ll take you home, and we’ll figure things out. Just give me an address.”
“I’m at Josh and Paxton’s. It’s a few blocks away from home but—”
What street is this?
As I stop to think about it, I listen to Liam in the background begging Tobias to drive him here. They’re arguing about keys and a Porsche. Tobias says William will kill him if he finds out he grabbed his car. Liam keeps insisting.
“I’ll be right there.”
“But how will you find me? Wait … let me ask Robbie for the address.”
When I step back inside the house, the music feels louder, the space feels more crowded, and faces blur around me. Liam’s calling my name, but I keep asking him to wait. Finally, I spot Robbie. He’s sitting on a couch next to a girl.
“It’s Liam. Could you—” I say, pressing the phone to his ear.
Robbie gives me an annoyed frown but takes the call. I rearrange my purse’s strap on my shoulder and saunter to the kitchen for a much-needed glass of water.
On my way there, I spot Henry talking to a girl just outside the kitchen. She’s laughing at something he said, and he’s smiling at her. The sight makes my stomach churn.
Henry looks my way, and it makes me realize I’ve been standing there too long, staring at their interaction.
Normally, I’d look away after being caught, but this time I don’t.
My mind is busy trying to piece together our conversation back home.
Something went wrong. I remember the frustration but not the details.
Looking at Henry with someone else isn’t helping my brain work as it should, so I turn around and spot Gemma and Paxton in the kitchen.
Thank God.
“Hey,” I say, my eyelids feeling heavier with every blink.
“Are you okay?” Gemma asks, looking at me as if trying to figure out what’s wrong.
“I just need water.”
Paxton offers to bring me a glass.
“Gemma?” My voice trembles as I grab onto her hand.
“What’s wrong?” she says, her tone soft, like she’s trying to soothe me. “Talk to me.”
I glance over my shoulder, and Henry’s still talking to that cute girl.
Gemma follows my gaze and sees them. “Oh …”
I lock eyes with Gemma, silently begging her to understand what I’m feeling because I can’t seem to find the words to explain.
What is happening to me? How can my mother drink every day?
This is madness! It’s like unlocking ten doors to my subconscious all at once.
The untamed emotions are overwhelming me, slithering around my chest and demanding to be seen and heard.
I don’t want this. I don’t need this. Not now, not ever.
I wanted to forget, but instead, every cell in my body is rioting, making a fuss over Henry talking to some girl who isn’t me.
I’m jealous! Crazy, irrationally jealous, and I can’t trust myself right now. No … it’s the gin. It has to be, because I’m still Liam’s girlfriend and yet all I can think about is how much I want to split Henry and that girl apart. And I hate that side of me!
He’s my Henry. Only he’s not, and it’s killing me.
“Belén?” Paxton says, holding a red plastic cup of water out to me.
“Sorry.” I blink, and a few tears slip down my cheeks. “Thanks,” I say, brushing them away before taking a deep drink.
“Do you want to leave?” Gemma asks. “We should leave.”
“Belén!” Robbie calls out, weaving his way through the crowd. Finally, he reaches us and hands my phone back to me. “Liam’s on his way with Tobias.”
“Okay,” I manage, though the word tastes wrong in my mouth.
Paxton grabs Gemma by the waist and lifts her onto the marble countertop. She lets out an adorable squeak, followed by a laugh. Robbie glances at them and says, “It would be best if you and Gemma went home. It’s getting late.”
“Gemma’s not going anywhere,” Paxton declares, dropping another kiss on her cheek. He grabs Gemma’s arms and wraps them around himself. She shrugs and rests her chin on his shoulder.
Robbie snorts, shaking his head twice as a tight smile tugs at his lips.
“I’m spending the night at Gemma’s,” I tell Robbie. There’s no way I’m going home tonight. What if my parents see me arriving in this condition? It’s best to sleep it off at Gemma’s and make them think all I did tonight was hang out with her at her place.
“You’re both impossible,” Robbie says, the annoyance evident on his features. “And so fucking stubborn.”
Gemma laughs, and all I do is keep drinking water, hoping it will cancel out the alcohol, but it’s not working. I don’t have the energy or motivation to argue with Robbie.
“I don’t mind if you stay,” I say. Gemma seems to be enjoying herself with Paxton, and I don’t want to ruin the fun. “Robbie’s right. I should go.”
“No way I’d let you leave on your own,” she replies, trying to jump down from the counter. Paxton helps her down instead. “Let’s go.”
“Liam’s on his way. I need to talk to him, and this is not the right place for that. You might as well stay while I figure things out with him.” The dread of knowing I’m probably ending things with Liam is real and creeping up on me. Fast.
“Gemma doesn’t want to stay,” Robbie interjects. “She’s telling you she’s ready to leave with you. Stop insisting.”
I lazily shift my attention to Robbie, scrunching up my nose. What is wrong with him? He’s never this intense. Maybe he’s been drinking too. That must be it. Alcohol is shady, and I’ve officially decided I don’t like it. I won’t be having any more anytime soon. Or ever.
Gemma rummages through her purse, pulls out her keys, and says, “Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay?”
“One hundred percent.” I take the keys and hug her, feeling a cold sweat break on my forehead and the back of my neck. “Have fun.”
Robbie turns on his heel and stalks away.