Play No More (Player Next Door sequel) ✓

54 | Looney

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Chapter 54: Looney

"And here's another," the waiter said as he set two more glasses in front of us.

They clinked on the metallic table and I stared at the drink's yellow coloring. A curled lemon peel was artistically placed on the rim, as if someone had forgotten to throw it away after eating.

I flicked it off.

We were in a club, where Chad had reserved a table under his father's name. The bar's heavy lights flashed neon colors and the noise reached a deafening peak.

I yelled into Austin's ears, pointing at the waiter and our retreating cocktail glasses, "They were empty."

I felt empty.

Austin raised our new glasses and offered one to me, "But these are full."

We clinked glasses and drank our next round. Austin and I had advanced into a new stage of drinks we didn't even recognize. 

But I realized that he was already talking to a girl. She was wearing a shimmery black dress and must've shimmered over to our table.

"One down," I said to my glass.

It's down to my cocktail and me. I wonder if Austin liked that girl. I've never met a cocktail I didn't like.

Meanwhile, Cearra was on the dance floor with Oma. They really hit it off this evening. She had sailed into the group dynamic. 

I stared down at my cartoon t-shirt. "You didn't help," I told it.

**

Luke is handsome, we all know that. Does it get tired being that handsome? I bet it does. He probably measures his abs every day and feels sad when people don't complement him.

No, I'm not sour since this drink isn't a whisky sour. Yes, I'm bitter because he neglected me.

Now Luke walked towards me, peeling away from the crowd on the dance floor like the lemon peel next to my drink. He was wearing a blue t-shirt that matched his eyes. No one had complained to him about his t-shirt.

With his back to the packed dance floor, he ran a hand through his hair and asked, "Where have you been?"

"Here," I replied bluntly.

"You should've joined us," he said, keeping the charming act up. He saw my cocktail glass and his expression changed. He reached out for it.

I let him take my drink but watched him with a hawk's gaze. If he has more than a sip...

He tasted it, "Amaretto sour. You're mixing drinks."

"Is that condensation in your voice?" I think I meant condescension.

"Millie, you did not start the night with this. Are you keeping track?"

"Oh, so it's Millie now," I said, disapprovingly. 

It's all fun and games when he calls me Minnie but call me Millie and it's suddenly doomsday.

He put the drink on the table. "Are you drunk?"

"No."

"You're drunk, Millie."

"You're drunk."

"I haven't been drinking," he said.