Chapter 17 #2
“Not my finest hour, I’ll give you that. But one hell of a night.”
“Any chance there are photos?”
“No, and even if there were, over my dead body would you be seeing them.”
I laughed. “I’m sure your nose hurt like a bitch whenever the alcohol wore off.”
“Hurt? It was sheer agony, not to mention the two black eyes I sported for days after.” She guided us to the very top of the staircase. “That’s the fateful day I learned, me and blood do not mix.”
“And it had nothing to do with the amount of liquor in your system?”
She turned her head, the dim light catching her brown hues as she eyed me with a teasing smirk. “Of course not.”
“Uh-huh, whatever you say, Peaches.”
Finally at the top, she pushed open an old fire exit door and walked out onto the building’s rooftop. “Welcome, Dr. D, to one of my favorite places in the city.”
Fairy lights, mason jars filled with lit candles, worn second-hand sofas, a fire pit filled with half-burnt wood, old fruit crates filled with blankets and pillows, and to top it all off, a view of the city that tourists would pay a fortune for.
I stood rooted on the spot as Livi plonked herself down on one of the sofas.
How was this possible?
From the outside, the building looked disused and beyond repair, yet music continued to vibrate beneath my feet.
“It’s a nightclub,” she said as if she could read the thoughts tumbling around my head. “Well, the sixth, seventh, and eighth floors are a nightclub. Pretty sure the lower levels are being used as recording studios, but they change every couple of months.”
“And the rooftop?”
“Originally, the owner built it for him and his buddies to chill after clubbing, but he stopped partying after his first son was born. Now, I’m pretty sure most people come up here to get stoned before they go into the club.”
“Is that why you brought me up here?”
“?Oh Dios, no! I did pot once and it was the worst experience of my life, even the smell of it gives me anxiety now.” Laughter bubbled in her throat. “Mostly, I come up here for the views and the peace and quiet.”
“I can see why, it’s one hell of a spot.”
Two dimples pierced her cheeks.
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’ve been working in that hospital for seven months. How did I not know this place exists so close by?”
“Because, my friend, that would involve doing something other than working.”
“Touché.”
A playful smirk tugged on her lips. “To be fair, this is a need-to-know basis sort of place. Invite only. And the guys on the doors cannot be bribed, trust me.”
“Talking from experience, Peaches?”
Despite the cooling temperature, her cheeks heated. “Back when I started my company, Khloe and my other friend Mal, we used to come clubbing here nearly every weekend. Mal’s friend is the owner; he always got us on the guest list.”
A strange sensation trickled through me at the mention of another guy’s name. It slipped down, cementing its place uncomfortably in my gut.
“I loved coming here and dancing until my feet couldn’t take it anymore,” she continued. “The music, the strobing lights, the way my mind emptied itself while on the dancefloor—the perfect way to blow off steam after a shitty week.”
A mental image of her, sweat coating her skin, hair sticking to her forehead, her hips moving in time with the heavy beat calling out like a siren to sailors, forced its way into the forefront of my brain.
“Why did you stop?”
There was a strained beat of silence. “You probably already know the answer to that.”
“Your ex-boyfriend?”
She said nothing, her gaze drifting to focus on the view of the flickering lights of the city skyline.
Of-fucking-course.
Her mouth turned downward. “He hates places with loud music and too many people. Not to mention, he detests dancing. This place is his literal hell.”
Another thing to add to the seemingly never-ending list that bastard had stolen from her.
Joining her on the sofa, my leg brushed against hers. “He never came here with you? Not even to the rooftop?”
She shook her head.
Resting my arm on the back of the chair, the tips of my fingers mere inches away from the curve of her neck.
“Truthfully, I’m glad I never brought him here,” she said quietly. “We were together for three years, and it sometimes feels like he left his mark on everything in my life. But here? Here is mine. It’s somewhere he hasn’t tainted, you know?”
“He really never deserved you, I hope you know that.”
Blinking rapidly, her throat bobbed as she busied herself with the bag of food. “Think it’s safe to say this is going to be cold.”
“I don’t mind,” I assured her. “Cold pasta is underrated.”
The whispers of a smile took hold of her as she passed me a container before tucking into her own.
Warm satisfaction funneled through my nervous system. She never brought Daniel to one of her favorite places in the city, somewhere that meant something to her, but she’d brought me.
Her fake, temporary boyfriend.
It didn’t mean anything, though, right?
I showed her a place that meant something to me. I introduced her to Madge, a woman so like my own Grand-mère that I latched onto her the second she showed me an ember of kindness—pathetic, I know.
Livi said it herself, she wanted to thank me.
That’s all this was, and no matter how much the faint taste of disappointment burned the back of my throat with each mouthful of pasta, I knew it’s all it could be.