The harsh glare of neon lights assaulted Emily’s eyes as she sank into the worn leather chair, her fingers already wrapping around the cool glass of her first shot. The bar buzzed with the usual Saturday night crowd, a cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses mingling with the thrumming bass of some forgotten rock anthem.
“Fuck me, I needed this,” Emily muttered, knocking back the shot in one swift motion. The tequila burned a fiery path down her throat, settling warm and heavy in her gut.
Sophia raised an eyebrow, already lining up their next round. “Slow down, tiger. We’ve got all night to drown your sorrows.”
Emily snorted, reaching for a chicken wing. “Right, because pacing myself has worked out so well lately.”
As she tore into the spicy meat, her mind drifted back to Lucas. His gentle hands, his understanding smile. The way he’d look at her like she was the only woman in the world.
“Stop it,” Sophia said sharply, snapping her fingers in front of Emily’s face. “I can see you spiraling. No Lucas thoughts allowed.”
Emily sighed, wiping her greasy fingers on a napkin. “How am I supposed to just… not think about him?”
Sophia grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Easy. We’re gonna get you so drunk you can’t remember your own name, let alone his.”
As Emily reached for another shot, she couldn’t help but wonder if all the alcohol in the world would be enough to wash away the ache in her chest.
Emily was about to reply when movement near the entrance caught her eye. Her stomach dropped as she recognized the familiar swagger, the perfectly styled dark hair.
“Isn’t this fucking brilliant,” she hissed, sinking lower in her seat.
Sophia whipped her head around, eyes widening. “Oh shit. Ryan?”
Emily nodded, her jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. “The one and only asshole himself.”
Ryan hadn’t spotted them yet, busy charming the bartender with that million-dollar smile. Emily’s fingers itched to throw something at his stupidly handsome face.
“We should go,” Sophia whispered urgently.
But Emily shook her head, a reckless fire igniting in her veins. Maybe it was the tequila, or maybe it was the emotional rollercoaster of the past few hours, but suddenly, running didn’t seem like an option.
“No,” she said, voice low and dangerous. “I’m done letting that prick dictate my life. If he wants to ruin my night, he’s gonna have to work for it.”
Sophia looked torn between admiration and concern. “Em, are you sure? This could get messy.”
Emily grabbed another shot, downing it with a grimace. “Honey, my life’s already a fucking disaster. What’s one more mess?”
As Ryan scanned the bar, Emily straightened her spine, meeting his gaze head-on when he finally spotted her. His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with interest.
“Game on, asshole,” Emily muttered under her breath.
Emily let her head drop forward, banging on the table in front of her, both laughing and crying at the same time. The collision sent shot glasses skittering, spilling sticky liquor across the scarred wood.
“Fuck me,” she choked out between hysterical giggles. “This is some cosmic joke, right? Who did I piss off in a past life?”
Sophia’s hand found her shoulder, squeezing tight. “Em, breathe. We can still make a run for it.”
Emily lifted her head, mascara smeared and eyes wild. “And miss this shitshow? Not a chance in hell.”
She watched Ryan weave through the crowd, that cocky strut unchanged. Her stomach clenched, a nauseating mix of anger and unwanted attraction.
“Ladies,” Ryan purred, reaching their table. “What a… pleasant surprise.”
Emily snorted, grabbing another shot. “About as pleasant as a root canal, Ryan.”
His eyes narrowed, but that infuriating smirk never wavered. “Still bitter, I see. You know, holding onto anger isn’t healthy, Em.”
“Neither is screwing your secretary,” Emily shot back, “but that didn’t stop you, did it?”
The air crackled with tension. Emily’s heart pounded, adrenaline and alcohol singing through her veins. Part of her screamed to walk away, but a darker voice whispered to stay, to make him hurt like she had.
“Careful, Em,” Ryan’s voice dropped low, dangerous. “You might not like what happens if you keep pushing.”
Emily leaned in, green eyes flashing. “Try me, asshole. I’m not that naive girl you used to know.”
Sophia’s chair scraped back as she stood, her voice sharp as a knife. “Ryan, just piss off. No one wants you here.”
Ryan’s gaze flickered to Sophia, then back to Emily, his charm sliding into place like a mask. “Come on, Em. You know we were good together. I made a mistake, but I’m still the best thing that ever happened to you.”
Emily couldn’t help it. A snort of laughter escaped her, equal parts bitter and genuinely amused. “Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’ with exaggerated emphasis. “There’s definitely someone better. Someone that wouldn’t fuck his secretary.”
Lucas’ face flashed in her mind, sending a jolt through her chest. Complicated as it was, what she felt for him was real. Raw. Honest in a way her relationship with Ryan had never been.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Oh yeah? And who’s that? Some pathetic rebound?”
Emily stood, swaying slightly but holding her ground. She met Ryan’s gaze, unflinching. “Someone who actually gives a damn about me, not just himself.”
She felt a fierce pride surge through her. Whatever mess she was in with Lucas, it was leagues better than the toxic bullshit Ryan had put her through.
Emily turned to Sophia, a wonky, alcohol-filled smile spreading across her face. The room spun a little, but her resolve was crystal clear.
“I know what I want, Soph,” she said, her voice thick with emotion and tequila. “I want him, and I’m not going to let anything, definitely not this twat-” she motioned at Ryan with a dismissive flick of her wrist, “-get in the way of that.”
Sophia’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and pride flashing across her face. “Are you sure, Em? Even with… you know?”
Emily nodded, her chestnut hair bouncing with the motion. “Life’s too short for what-ifs. You told me that.”
Ryan scoffed, his handsome features twisting into a sneer. “You’re drunk, Emily. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She whirled on him, green eyes blazing. “Drunk, yes. But I know exactly what I’m saying, Ryan. For once in my life, I’m choosing what I want, not what’s easy or expected.”
The words tumbled out, fueled by liquid courage and pent-up frustration. Emily’s heart raced, her mind a whirlwind of possibilities. Lucas’ face, his gentle touch, the way he made her feel both safe and alive – it all crystallized into a moment of perfect clarity.
“Soph,” she said, fumbling for her phone. “I need to call him. Now.”