Chapter 83

The second Abigail stepped into the club, it hit her all at once—the music, the heat, the scent of sweat and perfume mingling with possibility. The bass thudded through the floor, climbing up her legs like a second heartbeat. Lights spun overhead in hues of violet, crimson, and electric blue, washing the crowd in waves of color.

Megan grinned over her shoulder, taking Abigail’s hand and pulling her through the dancing bodies with practiced ease. “Come on,” she shouted above the music. “You’re not allowed to brood tonight. Fun only!”

Abigail laughed, letting herself be tugged forward, her nerves slowly unraveling. It had been ages since she’d been in a space like this—especially without Emma. A strange mix of guilt and excitement coiled in her stomach, but Megan’s energy was magnetic. For now, Abigail let go of the heaviness and let herself be in the moment.

At the bar, Megan ordered tequila shots with lime wedges, sliding one across to Abigail with a wink.

“To letting loose and giving zero fucks,” Megan said, raising her glass.

Abigail clinked hers with a grin. “To good bad ideas.”

The tequila went down sharp and fast, followed almost immediately by a second round. Then came a fizzy drink with something fruity and deceptively strong. The alcohol curled warmly in her chest, and with each beat of the bass, the club started to feel more like freedom than escape.

Megan’s friends arrived—two women and a guy, all smiles and open arms. They danced in a loose, glittering circle around Abigail, drawing her in like she’d always belonged there. Someone handed her another drink, and she took a small sip, letting the rhythm of the music pull her closer to the pulse of the room.

The first approach came when a woman with sharp cheekbones and a low-cut black bodysuit tapped her arm. Her voice was confident, eyes glinting with interest. “You’ve got moves,” she said. “Wanna dance?”

Abigail blinked, surprised but flattered. “I’m Abigail. And I’m really flattered, but I’m taken.”

“Fair enough,” the woman said, backing off with grace. “Respect. You ever change your mind—”

“I won’t,” Abigail said with a kind smile, and the woman laughed as she walked away.

Megan had seen the whole thing and was already handing Abigail another drink with a grin. “You really are a heartbreaker.”

Abigail rolled her eyes, sipping the drink slowly. “Not trying to be.”

They danced for a few more songs, Megan twirling Abigail once, then dipping her dramatically to the cheers of their group. Abigail flushed, laughter bubbling up until her ribs ached.

She made her way back to the bar for some water and leaned against the counter, catching her breath.

That’s when it happened again.

A tall man in a cobalt button-up slid beside her, looking more polished than most people in the room. His tone was smooth but friendly. “You look like someone who doesn’t usually do clubs.”

Abigail raised a brow. “Is that a compliment or an observation?”

“Both,” he said with an easy smile. “But mostly a compliment.”

She chuckled, appreciating the charm, even if it landed nowhere. “Well, you’re right. This isn’t really my scene.”

He glanced toward the dance floor. “Yet you’re here. Must be fate.”

Abigail grinned. “Or a persuasive friend with tequila.”

He leaned closer slightly, just enough to be suggestive without crossing the line. “In that case… you want to dance?”

Abigail paused, then shook her head gently. “I’m taken.”

His smile faltered for just a second, but he recovered smoothly. “Ah. Lucky them.”

“She’s very lucky,” Abigail said, feeling a swell of affection and pride as she said it.

He dipped his head with a gracious nod. “Enjoy your night.”

As he moved away, Megan slid in with perfect timing. “Again?” she laughed. “Are you sure you’re not wearing a sign that says ‘Hit on me, I’m irresistible’?”

Abigail rolled her eyes but smiled. “I think I’ve had enough attention for one night.”

“Then hydrate,” Megan said, handing her a water bottle. “And just so you know, you’re the MVP of this club. Even if you won’t dance with anyone but me.”

The club pulsed with bass-heavy music, lights slicing through the darkness in shimmering streaks of pink and electric blue. Abigail let the beat roll over her as she danced with Megan and her crew, arms in the air, hair sticking to her temple from sweat. Her smile was wide and real—something she hadn’t worn in a while.

“Another round?” Megan shouted over the music, holding up a hand to flag down a server.

Abigail hesitated only for a breath before nodding. “Let’s go!”

The next shot hit the back of her throat with a warm rush—smooth, citrusy, with just enough burn to remind her what she was doing. That made… what? Three? Four? She’d stopped counting, which was probably a sign in itself.

The floor was packed, but when the beat dropped, they found their rhythm again. Megan spun her with a laugh, and Abigail leaned into it, riding the euphoria. She hadn’t danced this hard since college, and it felt so good to let go. But as the crowd shifted, she found herself drifting toward the edge of the floor.

She made her way to the bar for water, wiping sweat from her brow.

“Water, please,” she told the bartender, trying to balance herself on one elbow. She was definitely feeling it now—floaty and loose in her limbs, the world just a little off-center.

Before her drink arrived, a voice spoke up beside her.

“Already taken care of,” said a tall woman with deep brown skin, bold red lipstick, and a confident grin.

Abigail raised a brow. “You bought me a water?”

The woman laughed. “Nope. That’s coming. I bought you something fun.” She nudged a glass toward her. “Coconut rum and pineapple.”

“That’s sweet,” Abigail said, smiling, “but I’m taken.”

The woman—Zaria—smirked. “She must be pretty amazing.”

“She is,” Abigail replied without hesitation.

She took the water gratefully, sipping slowly as the alcohol finally hit her full force. She was buzzed—definitely buzzed—but she wasn’t out of control. Not yet.

Then, just as she turned to go, another person slid into the spot on her other side—a guy in a relaxed button-up, drink in hand, watching her with quiet amusement.

“You’ve been turning people down all night,” he said casually. “Either you’re not interested or you’re really into someone.”

Abigail laughed, her cheeks flushed. “Really into someone.”

He nodded respectfully. “Well, you’ve got people’s attention. Just thought I’d say that.”

As he turned back to the crowd, Megan popped up behind Abigail with a knowing grin and another shot in hand.

“Last one,” she said. “Swear.”

Abigail stared at it for a moment, wobbled slightly, then took it with a grin. “Famous last words.”

They clinked and tossed it back.

This one hit harder.

Abigail’s laugh came out looser, the room tilting in a way that felt both thrilling and mildly concerning.

“You good?” Megan asked, a hand on her arm.

“I’m good,” Abigail said. 

They danced one more song, the kind that made the whole room throb in sync with the beat. Abigail was laughing, her cheeks flushed and her limbs feeling lighter than air, when she finally leaned into Megan’s ear.

“I think I’m done,” she said with a tipsy grin. “Like… officially danced out and dangerously close to faceplanting.”

Megan steadied her with a hand on her hip and nodded, her own buzz mellow but steady. “Yeah, you’re definitely at that ‘I can feel the bass in my eyelids’ level.”

Abigail laughed again. “Exactly.”

“Come on,” Megan said, threading her arm through Abigail’s. “Let’s go home to our girls.”

They stepped out into the warm night air, the city lights gleaming against the pavement like glitter spilled from the sky. Megan quickly called a car, and they slid into the back seat together, kicking off their heels and leaning their heads back against the cool leather.

The ride was quiet for a moment, the silence soft and welcome after the chaos of the club. Abigail blinked slowly, the alcohol humming in her bloodstream like low static.

“I think I had one too many,” she mumbled, lips curling into a sleepy smile.

“You think?” Megan teased gently. “You turned down two flirty strangers, took five shots, and tried to order water twice from the same bartender.”

Abigail groaned. “Don’t remind me. Emma’s gonna know the second she sees me.”

Megan grinned. “Ashley will too. She has a sixth sense for this kind of thing. But… I think they’ll just be happy we made it home in one piece.”

Abigail turned to look at her. “Thanks for keeping an eye on me.”

“Anytime. We look out for each other. And besides,” Megan added with a smirk, “it’s kind of cute seeing you drunk and still so loyal.”

“Emma would have murdered me,” Abigail joked.

“And Ashley would’ve blocked my number,” Megan replied with a laugh.

As the car pulled up to their building, the two women gathered their things and stepped out, steadying each other with linked arms and tired giggles.

The lobby was dim and quiet as they slipped inside, their footsteps echoing down the hallway.

“Back to reality,” Abigail whispered.

“Back to the best parts of it,” Megan replied.