Chapter 18 #3
A few minutes later, she was walking to the subway, leather jacket slung over one shoulder, music blasting in her earbuds. The city was still warm, still humming with that late-summer energy that made everything feel possible. She didn’t check her phone again on the ride downtown.
Lush was already packed when she arrived. Music pulsed through the floor, lights flickered low and colorful, and the line at the bar wrapped around a group of girls dancing with reckless abandon.
Gabby spotted her first. “Damn, bitch,” she said, sliding an arm around her waist. “You did not come to play.”
“Hot single energy,” Avery said, grinning.
Natalie whooped. “That’s what I’m talking about!”
Noella handed her a tequila shot. “First round’s on me.”
They clinked glasses and threw them back. The burn was quick, and Avery chased it with a sip of lime before grabbing her vodka soda and following them to a small table near the back.
It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn toward Quinn.
“So,” Natalie asked, sipping her spritz, “how’s L.A. CEO Lady?”
Avery hesitated. “I don’t want to talk about Quinn tonight.”
Noella raised a brow. “Oof. That bad?”
“No,” Avery said, shaking her head. “Not bad. Just… weird. A weird week.”
Natalie leaned in. “Did something happen?”
Avery sipped her drink. She wasn’t planning on saying anything, but the tequila was settling in, loosening her tongue. “She told me last night that she’s not my girlfriend,” Avery said, flatly.
“What?” Natalie blinked.
“I waited around for her to call me for four hours. She said she would. Never texted, never called. Then, at like 1:30 in the morning, she decides to call. Says she went out with her best friend after work, which—fine. But no text. No nothing. And when I said she could’ve let me know, she hit me with, ‘I’m not your girlfriend, Avery. I don’t have to check in.’”
Gabby’s mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me?”
“Ouch,” Noella said. “That’s harsh.”
Avery shrugged. “It’s fine. We’re fine now. I’m just…” She shook her head. “Trying not to be the girl who waits around, you know?”
“Well, I say we drink to that!” Noella reached for the next round of shots. Avery didn’t hesitate this time.
They did a cheers with their shots and downed them, then hit the dance floor the four of them, weaving between sweaty bodies, laughing and moving like they had nothing waiting for them outside this moment.
The bass thumped in her chest. The lights blurred into streaks of violet and blue. And for a little while, Avery forgot.
By the time they came off the floor, breathless and glowing, it was nearly midnight, Avery grabbed her phone to check the time and saw a text waiting.
Quinn: Have fun. I’ll text you when I get home.
Sent at 10:30.
Avery stared at it for a moment. She felt Noella peer over her shoulder.
“That her?” she asked. “The CEO girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Avery muttered.
“She texted you like a girlfriend,” Natalie pointed out.
Avery sighed. “Yeah, well. She said she’s not. Loud and clear, remember.”
Gabby looked at her. “Do you believe her?”
Avery didn’t answer. She slid the phone into her purse, grabbed the next drink, and tipped her head back with the shot. The burn didn’t bother her this time.
They danced for another hour, maybe more. Avery lost count somewhere between tequila and a remix she hadn’t heard in years. By the time they spilled out of the club just after 2 a.m., the night air hit her warm skin like a shock.
Her phone buzzed in her hand. Two new texts.
But before she checked them, she flipped the camera and pulled Noella in close.
Noella leaned over and kissed her cheek, exaggerated and playful, and Avery snapped the photo mid-laugh.
When she looked at it, she couldn’t help smiling.
It was cute. Flushed cheeks. Glossy lips. A little drunk and glowing.
“Can I post that?” Avery asked, holding the screen up for Noella to see.
“You better!” Noella shouted, still operating at club volume, grinning wide and reckless.
Avery posted it quickly with a short, flirty caption and tagged Noella before she could overthink it. Then she finally opened her messages.
Two from Quinn.
Quinn: Just got home.
Quinn: You still out?
Avery typed back without hesitating.
Avery: Still out. Probably will be late.
The response came almost immediately.
Quinn: Will you still text me when you get in?
Avery’s chest softened just a little at that.
Avery: Yes.
She meant it. She really did.
But the night blurred after that. Another drink she didn’t need. A late slice of pizza eaten standing on the sidewalk. Loud, lingering hugs. Promises to do this again next weekend. The cab ride home with her head tipped back against cracked vinyl.
By the time she stumbled into her apartment, kicked off her heels, peeled out of her jeans, and collapsed into bed still a little dizzy, the promise had slipped through her fingers.
Not out of malice. Not to prove a point.
Just because she’d had a good night and was a little drunk and exhausted.
* * *