One Life by A.J. Pine

Author:A.J. Pine [Pine, A.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780698192300
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-10-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

It’s not hard to find Patrick and the rest of the group in the dark, cavernous club—hence its name. The underground, basement-type lounge is packed with patrons, and a clump of costumed heroes mingle in the back where plush, velvet-looking booths line the wall. Perpendicular to the wall of booths is the bar, and to the right of that a small dance floor and stage.

Before we make it to the back, a fauxhawked, guylinered Peter Pan approaches us, and I smile despite the lingering sting of Spock’s words.

“There’s my Smurfette.”

I punch him in the shoulder.

“Okay, fine. No Smurfette tonight because you are smokin’ as Supergirl. Introduce me to Catwoman.” Patrick makes a purring noise directed at Dee.

My roommate, who somehow already has a shot of tequila in her hand, asks Patrick to grab the saltshaker from the high-top table behind him. And because Delores has that commanding presence tiny people like her do, he obeys. She grabs the saltshaker and then his hand, sprinkling the tiny crystals onto the back of it. Patrick watches with fascination as she licks the salt off of his hand, takes her shot, and sucks the lime that rested on the rim of the shot glass.

Then she purrs.

“I’m the sexy feline, Mr. Neverland. I’ll be the one doing the purring.”

Then she takes off into the crowd.

“Oooh,” Patrick says, watching her in all her pleather glory as she slinks past the Incredible Hulk and Iron Man. “I like her.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”

Patrick’s eyes flick back to Spock, who doesn’t quite stand next to me but isn’t exactly standing behind me either.

“And you know . . .” I stumble on finding the right thing to say, because calling him Spock is special. It means something, and right now he and I are worlds apart, all because of a few well-intentioned yet hurtful words. “You remember Zach.”

I choke on the word, on the name that hasn’t belonged to him since the day we met. But my word is a weapon, and while I may not shoot to kill, the intent to injure is there.

“Jesus, Zoe,” he says and walks away toward the bar.

Looks like I was successful. So why do I feel like shit?

“First fight?” Patrick asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I mean, it’s complicated. And I think we need some space right now, but the thing is, I think I’m mostly mad because even though what he said hurt me, it might be true. And . . . fuck. Aren’t you glad you asked?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Patrick holds up a pint glass filled with whatever is on tap.

“Something to take the edge off?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“I don’t drink,” I tell him.

He pulls me to the bar, the end opposite where Spock sits with his head in his hand as he stirs a mixing straw in a rocks glass filled with clear liquid. Spock’s never had a drink with me around, and I don’t realize until now how much that’s meant to me.

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