Chapter 43 Sonya
SONYA
The party’s at a warehouse where the main pit has been gutted and converted to a massive, moodily lit dance floor.
Suspended above that are interconnected VIP booths sectioned off by private stairs.
Anyone lucky enough to get invited to the second floor has their own waitstaff on call, can order all kinds of speciality drinks, and look down over the railing to watch hot athletes finally letting loose.
Bodies that have spent a lifetime training to be in peak condition for their sport are drinking, dancing, and singing along to pop music’s greatest hits.
It’s a night like in the movies where they tell you anything can happen.
A gets-you-in-trouble-and-you-like-it party.
How we’ll find Jung here, I don’t know. It’s crowded and loud in here.
Kavi’s gone to meet the guys in their VIP booth on the second floor to see if they’ve had any luck. She offered to wait downstairs with me, but I told her I needed a quick minute to myself. I promised I’d join her right after.
First, I’m grabbing some water by the bar. While drinking it, I turn down a group of guys asking me to dance.
“I’m not here to dance,” I tell them.
With you, this random voice adds in my head.
One of them clutches his chest, crestfallen as if his world has come crashing down. “Are you sure? This could be a night that you’ll never forget,” he tries to convince me enthusiastically. “We’ll fall in love!”
Wow.
Behold the power of this dress.
But also his words make me picture someone else entirely. My pulse jolts imagining him saying the same words to me tonight, about how we’ll fall in love. Why does that make me blush all over? Why does his husky voice loop in my head like that scenario is stuck in my mind?
Seeing how zoned out I am, the group of guys leave.
It takes me a few more minutes to fully snap out of my thoughts.
By the time I do, I’m taking a deep inhale in.
I fiddle with the hem of my dress, and fuss with the top knot I pulled my hair in as if needing to look as amazing as I can.
Then my eyes lift, casually scanning across the line of VIP booths on the second floor until I find ours and spot—
Adrian.
I go rigid as my heart seizes. Cracks. Splinters.
He’s not alone, but surrounded by so many women. One is touching his arm. I can’t see his expression since his head is bent down, but I can only imagine what happens next.
Why had I started to think—I don’t know what I had started to think. He’s a fuckboy. There’s nothing between us. We don’t owe each other anything. I have no reason to be in such pain.
Tell my chest that.
If I could force that spot into stasis, I would. But it’s not frozen. It’s imploding, being broken into brittle bits I’m afraid I won’t recover. What is this? Am I feeling…completely devastated?
Apparently so. The cup of water I was drinking topples to the floor at some point.
I pick it up and slam it down on the counter, before blindly moving away. That’s when I run into Mikael Saros.