Page 14 of Tall, Dark, and Grumpy

“Good girl,” I breathe, my chest relaxing like I’ve recovered from a heart attack.

Sev quirks an eyebrow and smirks. “Like that, is it?”

I’m on my feet. “I’m going out. You stay here.”

“This is your house.” Sev looks at me like I’m crazy.

“Don’t trash it. You can drink yourself stupid, if you want.” I shove my suit jacket on, but don’t bother looking in a mirror, or putting on a tie. I stride down the long, white corridor at a pace that is only just not a run.

“Where are you going?” Sev keeps up with me.

“To a bar.”

“Sounds fun. I’ll come with you.”

“No.” But I don’t do more than mutter, “Fuckwit” when he gets into the passenger side of the car. It’s nice to not be totally on my own. I guess. Even if he isn’t the person I really want to be with: Cassie.

5

CASSIE

This evening is a mistake.

The three shots I’ve downed while messaging Mr Blackwood have gone to my head and I’m still left with four more. I can’t get rid of this man beside me, I can’t catch the eye of my housemates, I’m rapidly losing faith with my plan to lose my V-card, and I’ve gained a boyfriend more fictional and perfect than any I’ve read in a book.

I fiddle with my phone, checking to see if Mr Blackwood has replied since I sent him my location, as he demanded.

Nothing.

I suppose he just wants to know where I am so he could tell the police my last movements if I’m murdered.

On the plus side, after stress-drinking three shots, I am down to just four, which surely I can manage to carry?

“So, yourboyfriend.” The man emphasises it as though he doesn’t believe me, and leans in. “He’s coming tonight, is he?”

I nod, hoick up my purse onto my shoulder, pull down my dress—again—and try to pick up the shot glasses. “Probably. He’s got a lot of work to do, though.”

“Not here right now. Maybe he’s toohigh-poweredto come out with you on Friday night? That doesn’t sound like a good boyfriend, leaving you all alone.”

“He’s the best.” I attempt to sound confident as I awkwardly try to pick up the shot glasses without spilling brightly-coloured vodka everywhere. Third attempt I manage it. So long as no one jostles me, I’ll be fine.

“I can help with that, if you like,” the man says casually. He’s persistent as a fly.

“No!” I yelp. “No, that’s not needed.” A miracle, that’s what’s needed.

And for once, luck is on my side, because cutting a line across the room are my housemates.

“Hey, Cassie.” Julie sheds glitter from her dress as she moves and eyes the man who has been—I don’t know what to call it. Chatting me up? Negging me? Talking to me? “What you got?”

“I’ve got shot—” I hold up my hands.

“Nice to meet you.” Tamara reaches across me, practically shouldering me out of the way to shake the hand of the man, and so doing, nudges the precariously held shot glasses.

They spill all over me. Right down the front of my cream dress pours yellow, green, blue, and red vodka.

I look in disbelief.

Fuck. My. Life.