Page 12 of Please Don’t Go (The Midnight Strike #1)

Grayson dramatically gasps, staring at her like she stabbed him in the back.

“Now baby G, why are you doing me like that? I’m very good at remembering names.

I just get a little distrac…” He trails off, his gaze landing on the chest of a girl who leans over the table to grab a bottle of Pink Whitney.

When she leaves, Pen cocks a brow as if saying told you so .

“I didn’t forget your names,” he defends himself. “That’s Vienna and that’s Josie.”

“No, you forgot we were here,” she counters.

“I—” His lips part before they close then part again. “So, Vienna and Josie, what would y’all like to drink?”

“And me,” Pen states.

“Yeah right. You’re underage and your brother will kill me.”

She rolls her eyes. “We’re the same age, dumbass. I do what I want.” She grabs a cup from the table and fills it up with the blue liquid.

“If Danny asks, I said no.” He raises his hands in surrender. “Ladies?”

“How strong are we talking?” Vi questions, gaze bouncing between each glass dispenser and not so subtly tracking down his torso.

“You’ll get fucked up on both, black out even. But I can guarantee you’ll remember the next day with the blue. Now as for the red, you might end up in another state,” he tentatively answers, eyes narrowing on the red liquid. “Actually, that one is still pretty questionable but it’s good.”

He offers her the friendliest smile, but I feel the subtle hints of flirtiness behind it, and I don’t miss the way his eyes rake over her body. It’s quick and smooth but leaves a lasting impression as I note the tinge of red that creeps on her deep bronze cheeks.

“Blue,” she says.

“Great choice, Vienna,” he replies and fills a cup then hands it to her, winking. I don’t find anything appealing about it, but Vi eats it up. “What about you, Josie? Feeling adventurous, or do you want to play it safe?”

“I’ll get fucked up either way, so there’s no playing it safe.”

“Yeah, you’re right, but hey, one isn’t questionable and the other is.” He chuckles and shrugs.

“I guess red.”

He stares, impressed, and pours my drink into a cup. As he hands it to me, he says, “Danny should be outside.”

I stare, perplexed. “Why does that matter to me?”

He shrugs again but smirks. “Just thought you’d want to know.”

“I don’t,” I deadpan, but I can’t help the way my stomach flips at the sound of his name.

Gray doesn’t say anything else as a few other girls approach the table. We move out of the way and somehow end up back in the living room. We stand in the corner but not for long before “Safaera” by Bad Bunny plays loudly from a speaker.

“Danny’s probably DJing,” Pen yells over the loud music. “We’re about to get a variety of music, thank God. Listen, I’m all for the new stuff, but a little mix never hurt anyone. We have to go dance! Do you dance, Josie?”

I shake my head. I know how, I just don’t. “No, but please go. I’m good right now.”

“Come on, please?” Vi grabs my arms and attempts to draw me close to the people grinding and shaking ass, but I stay rooted in my spot.

“Maybe the next one.” It’s not going to happen, but I know they’ll persist. It’s my first party in a while, and everything already feels a little too much. I shouldn’t but I feel a little anxious. My heart is racing and I feel out of body. “Go. I promise I’ll be here.”

It takes them a moment to go, but when I give them both a gentle shove, they promise to be back and make their way through the crowd until they blend in.

I take a small sip of drink, in hopes it’ll ease the way my heart swiftly palpitates. I grimace, squeezing my eyes tight as the strong, burning liquid settles in my stomach. “Fuck.” I shudder.

“Let me guess. You got the red.”

I don’t have to turn to know who’s speaking to me. My grimace deepens and I shudder again, but this time it has nothing to do with the drink.

I ignore him, hoping he’ll go away, but unfortunately, like a pestering mosquito, he annoyingly invades my space until he’s in front of me.

Bryson lazily grins, taking another step closer as I take another back. “I thought I was seeing things, that there was no way. But I’d recognize those tits anywhere.” He brazenly drops his gaze to my chest. It stalls there before he idly lifts it back up to me.

Why did I ever date him? Right, because I hate myself.

“Bryson, fuck off.”

“Don’t be like that. I was just messing around, but you look really hot.

I’d almost forgotten how…” He drunkenly chuckles, gaze dipping to my chest again.

“That color is doing you wonders. It’s a nice change from all the dark colors.

You know people were calling you Wednesday,” he innocently says but I don’t miss the taunt that undertones it.

My chest constricts again and a bead of sweat rolls down my spine. I take another sip and fight the shudder. “By people, do you mean you?”

“Not me, I was always defending you, Josie, but you made it so hard. It doesn’t hurt to fucking smile once in a while or do things with your boyfriend.” That’s a dig at me for not always having sex whenever he asked for it.

I swallow but the glass seems to have returned, making it hard to do so. “Ex.”

“We were good for each other, Josie. We could’ve made things work. We still can.”

“Were you good for me when you fucked that girl multiple times? Or told your friends I liked to get passed around because your ego couldn’t handle that I broke up with you?” The hurt doesn’t reside anymore, only disgust. Someone thought it’d be great to send me a video of Bryson fucking some girl.

He rolls his eyes, huffing out harshly. “For fuck’s sake, I fucked up and I was drunk when I said and did that.

Why do you always have to bring that up?

I made a mistake. I told you I was sorry.

She didn’t mean anything. I swear I was thinking of you the entire time.

What more do you want me to do for you to believe I’m really sorry? ”

Right, because that’s every girl’s dream, to hear their boyfriend’s thinking of them while their dick is in someone else.

And he never apologized, but he likes to believe he did.

I stare at him, bored. “To evaporate. That’s a great start.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, I swear ever since your mom died, you’ve become a bigger bitch.” He closes his eyes, lips flattening in a tight line. “Shit, Josie. I didn’t mean?—”

My chest painfully squeezes and maybe it’s the air that feels too thin, making it hard to inhale. I don’t think as I throw my drink at his face.

“Fuck you,” I spit out and stalk off. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I walk and pick up the pace until I’m in the backyard.

People pass by me in a blur. I distinctly hear someone calling my name, but I keep walking until I’m standing in front of a fence.

I fan my blistering face, attempting to breathe, but it feels difficult.

Why did I come? I knew I wasn’t ready. I don’t belong here. I can’t breathe.

“Josefine.” I feel a warm hand on my bare shoulder, spiking my already accelerated heartbeat, but when I turn, it slowly wanes as I look up at Daniel.

Concern veils his face, his body shielding the world behind him, but still leaving space between us.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His eyes search mine, and when he notices that my gaze is drawn to his hand, he drops it.

I don’t know how to tell him I wish he hadn’t done that. I don’t know how to tell him to put it back because it did something to me. Something I can’t explain and now my brain is spasming out on the simple gesture that I’m pretty sure was and is insignificant to him.

My mouth opens, but it feels dry, and the words I want to pour out get caught behind the shard of glass in my throat.

“I didn’t mean to touch you. I’m sorry,” he sincerely says.

“It’s okay.” I drop my gaze, feeling embarrassed. I just want to stay in the dark and be forgotten. I should’ve stayed home. “I’m fine. You can leave.”

“Are you sure?”

I hesitate before I reply, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“What if…I stay but keep my distance?”

I lift my head. “Why are you always so insistent?”

“Because if I’m not, who will be?” His lips quirk into a small smile.

My stomach somersaults.

Whoa.

“Don’t feel obligated. I’m okay.”

“It’s no obligation. I want to be here.”

“Uh, okay then.” I tuck my hair behind my ear, finding it a little harder to breathe but for different reasons now.

What the hell is going on?

“I’m so happy you’re here, Josefine.”

Those words are all it takes to confiscate the little bit of air left in my lungs. I know he’s not saying that because I’m here at the party; he’s saying that because I’m here . I’m alive .

And for a moment, his back to the world, his figure shielding me from it all, his smile that does weird things to my stomach, I feel a bit…fine.