HALLIE

“ I fucking love this song!” Lily screams in my ear.

I giggle and join her on the dance floor.

I promised her a night of no sulking. I think this was her way of saying, I’m sick to fucking death of watching you wallow in self-pity with tubs of ice cream. Get the fuck out of the house.

We dance until our feet burn and our drinks are empty.

“Shall we get another?” I ask her.

The alcohol is starting to help me forget why I’m so sad.

“Damn right.” She grabs my hand and all but drags me to the bar.

As soon as we approach, goosebumps erupt over my skin. I rub at my forearms, glancing around.

This is weird.

“What do you want?” Lily shouts.

Oh.

“Um. Rum and coke. Please.”

I’m distracted, looking around the room like I’m hunting someone. I can feel eyes on me, and it’s unsettling.

“That bartender is kinda cute. Want his number?”

My eyes go wide.

“Absolutely not. I’m done with men.”

Lily rolls her eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. We need to get you laid.”

I shake my head.

“No. We really don’t. That won’t solve any of my issues.”

Not when my heart can’t forget about Conan.

She hands me my drink and I knock it back. Lily bites on her lip with a naughty grin.

“Oh, we’ve got this Hallie out to play. I can’t wait.”

“What?”

She pouts and sips her drink through the straw.

“The ‘ I don’t give a shit, let’s get blackout wasted’ is my favorite Hallie to drink with.”

I let out a laugh.

“Just make sure I don’t end up leaving with the bartender, please.” I bat my lashes.

The last thing I need is that anxiety in the morning.

Not that I have a job to go to anymore.

“Shall we dance instead?” she asks.

“Yeah. I like that plan.”

She finishes up her drink and we push our way through the crowd back onto the dance floor.

This time, a group of guys approaches us.

“Mind if we join?” the tall one at the front asks.

He’s pretty stacked in his tight blue shirt and jeans. His hair is short, and he has a neat beard. Kinda cute.

“Carry on.”

With each song, we laugh and shake our butts to the music.

“What’s your name?” the big guy asks.

“Ha—” I swallow.

“Harlow.”

He flashes his teeth as he smiles.

“Nice name. I’m Jason.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it.

Instead of letting go, he spins me under his arm, and I crash into his chest, my hands landing on his pecs.

I quickly push away so I can get some air.

“Dance with me?” he asks, looking down at me.

What have I got to lose?

Nothing can ever hurt as bad as losing Conan. There’s a gaping hole in my life.