Chapter 5
Chapter Five
AUDRA
“I’m getting a drink,” I announce to no one in particular.
Shannon smirks. “I’m continuing to flirt with Mr. Sexy.”
Levi’s already scanning for his own distraction.
And mine?
I don’t even look.
At the bar, the bartender raises a brow. “What’ll it be?”
“An ice water and a Captain and Diet Coke.”
While I wait, I catch a man a few stools down watching me.
He’s attractive enough—dark hair slicked back in a way that reminds me unpleasantly of Ross from Friends. Not unattractive. Just… aggressively normal. The kind of guy you’d pass in an airport bar without a second glance.
His smile is open. Friendly. A little eager around the edges.
He feels safe.
That should matter more than it does.
He smiles and walks over.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Saw you on the dance floor. You’ve got some serious moves.”
I laugh. If he thinks those are serious moves, he’s got issues. I suck at dancing. Capital S-U-C-K.
“My friends give me courage I’d never have alone.”
“You should,” he says. “Have courage alone, I mean.”
Okay. He’s not terrible.
Just… not it.
My drinks arrive. I reach for my clutch.
“Allow me?” he offers.
I nod. “Okay. But that’s not a promise for sex.”
He laughs, pays, and steps back.
I take a sip of the cocktail first.
Normal. Sweet.
Good.
I follow it with a long gulp of water, grateful for the cool slide down my throat. It settles something tight behind my sternum. Or I tell myself it does.
I turn away from the man without even catching his name. I should probably say thank you. I don’t. Guilt flickers and passes.
Levi reappears at my side, gives the guy a look, takes my elbow, and steers me toward the others.
“Dance break round two?” he asks.
“In a minute,” I say. “I need a breather.”
“That’s code for ‘I’m not twenty-five anymore,’” he teases.
“Rude,” I reply, laughing.
The man says something else—pleasant, forgettable—and I nod politely, my attention already drifting back to my friends. Jamie’s laughing at something Shannon says, hands animated, face flushed with the kind of joy that makes the night feel lighter.
Minutes pass. Maybe more. Time gets slippery when you’re observing.
Then the sound changes.
Not the song—the way it lands.
The bass stretches, warping slightly, pressing behind my eyes instead of into my chest. Lights smear at the edges. Gold bleeding into blue, blue into shadow.
I blink hard.
My limbs feel warm. Loose. Like my joints are negotiating instead of obeying.
I frown and shift.
Probably just the drinks. I had a couple earlier. That happens.
I stand, testing my balance.
It holds.
See? Fine.
I laugh at something Levi says, but the sound comes out a second late. Like my body answered before my brain caught up.
“You good?” Jamie asks, eyes sharp.
“Yeah,” I say easily. “Just need water.”
A quiet unease curls low in my chest.
My stomach clenches.
Oh.
“I think I need to sit down,” I say, even as I’m already doing it.
Jamie’s smile fades. “Audra?”
The room tilts—just a fraction.
Then my stomach rebels completely.
I barely have time to turn before I’m gagging, heat rushing up my throat. Someone shoves a napkin toward me. Another hand pulls my hair back.
It’s not dramatic. It’s messy and humiliating and fast.
Too fast.
When I straighten, breathing hard, the room feels farther away than it should. Like I’m watching it through water.
I try to stand.
I don’t make it.
Hands catch me.
Strong. Certain.
“You’re okay,” a voice says close to my ear. Calm. Steady. “I’ve got you.”
My forehead dips briefly against a shoulder. I don’t fight it. I don’t have the energy.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“Don’t be,” the voice says immediately. “That wasn’t you.”
That’s the last thing I clearly register before the night stops being fun and becomes something else entirely.