One Drink That Turned Into Five

“I don’t want to go,” Rikki said flatly as she sipped on her drink.

“You say that every time,” Laura replied, already rifling through her closet for a jacket that matched her shimmering halter top. “And every time, you end up drunk, sweaty, and having a good time.”

Rikki rolled her eyes but said nothing more. The truth was, it had been a long, soul-draining week. Between the silence from Finn, the loneliness in her apartment, and the black hole of guilt and second-guessing she’d been spiralling through, maybe a drink or five with her best friend wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

She hadn’t told Finn. Not that he’d asked. They were still barely talking—just the occasional “Hope your day was okay” or “Did you eat?” that felt more like routines than affection. She wasn’t sure what they were now. A couple on pause? A breakup in slow motion?

So, no. She didn’t tell him she was going out. Tonight, she needed to be Rikki—the regular woman, the mess, the maybe-still-young-enough-to-dance-until-3-a.m. version of herself.

And Laura, of course, had the perfect venue in mind.

The club was already pulsing with bass when they arrived. Neon lights painted everyone in shades of blue and purple. The air smelled like sweat, perfume, and vodka. The kind of place where you could lose hours—or make mistakes—without noticing.

Laura disappeared onto the dance floor within seconds, mouthing I’ll be right back over her shoulder as she zeroed in on a guy with arms the size of small trees.

Rikki slid up to the bar and ordered a shot and a drink. She was halfway through her second drink when she turned her head and froze.

There, just a few feet away, was him.

Lawrence.

Of course.

The frat-boy she’d slept with months ago during a particularly low point—drunk and reckless, the kind of night she’d shoved deep into a mental drawer labeled bad decisions. He was laughing with some friends, drink in hand, his button-down shirt open just enough to make a statement. His hair was the same—messy but intentional. He hadn’t seen her yet.

She could leave. Walk out now, pretend this night never happened. But instead, she turned around, ordered another drink, and downed it too quickly.

“Rikki?” a voice said from behind her. She winced before she turned.Lawrence stood there, eyebrows raised, dimples on full display. “Wow. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Rikki **** a polite smile. “Hey.”

“You look good. Like, really good.” His grin widened. “Didn’t think I’d see you around here again.”

“Didn’t plan on being here,” she replied flatly.

He laughed, clearly missing the edge in her tone. “Well, I’m glad you are. You want to dance or something?”

“No thanks,” she said quickly.

“Come on,” he said, stepping closer, still riding the overconfidence of someone who’d never really had to deal with rejection. “That night we had? It was kind of amazing.”

“That night was a mistake,” she said, locking eyes with him.

He blinked. “Ouch.”

She gave a tight smile. “You’ll survive.”

Before he could respond, Laura reappeared out of the crowd, sweaty and grinning. “Hey Lawrence.” She pulled the frat boy into a hug.

“The boys were telling me all about last weekend. Sorry I missed it,” Lawrence said as they stepped back from the hug.

Rikki blinked. “You’ve been going to the frat house?”

“Yep,” Laura replied with a smile. “What can I say, I like a good time.”

“You two wanna join us?” Lawrence called over the music, gesturing toward a booth tucked away behind the velvet ropes.

Rikki opened her mouth to say no, but Laura, drunk and grinning, said, “Sure!”

“Laura,” Rikki said under her breath, trying to shoot her a warning glance.

“Oh, come on,” Laura teased. “We’re already here. We can at least try and get a few free drinks out of them.”

Lawrence led them over to the booth where three other guys—clearly frat types—were already lounging with half-empty bottles and cocktails. He slid in beside Rikki without asking, and Laura nestled in comfortably across from her.

“Shots!” Lawrence shouted, snapping his fingers at the server. “Something strong.”

Within moments, a tray of clear, burning liquor was placed on the table. Rikki eyed it warily.

Lawrence leaned in with a cocky smile. “Still drink tequila the same way you did that night?”

Rikki ignored him, instead she grabbed a shot and tossed it back. The **** burned all the way down, and the heat rushed to her cheeks.

“Loosen up,” Laura laughed, already reaching for her second.