Page 58 of Until The Lights Go Out

I let out a short laugh. “Bold assumption.”

“I like bold.”

She introduced herself; I caught it, barely, but it didn’t stick the way it should have. Everything about her was easy. Flirty. Open. The kind of attention I used to not think twice about. She touched my arm as she spoke again, fingers light. I should’ve leaned into it, should’ve smiled when I was supposed to. Let the conversation happen. Let her laugh at my responses like they were clever. Let her think this was going somewhere. It should’ve been simple. It always used to be simple. So why did it feel wrong?

I took another drink instead of answering her last question properly, the alcohol cutting through whatever hesitation was creeping in.

She leaned closer. “You’re quieter than I expected.”

“Am I?” I asked, forcing a smirk.

“Mm,” she hummed. “I thought you’d be more…” Her hand slid a little higher on my arm. It should’ve done something.

It didn’t.

Instead, my mind did what it had been doing all day. All week. All fucking season. It drifted. Red hair and pink ribbons. Bare feet on a hotel floor. The weight of her voice saying my name like it meant something it shouldn’t.

Maisey.

I tightened my grip on my glass without meaning to. I forced my attention back. The blonde was talking again, smiling, waiting for something from me I should’ve been able to give without thinking. I leaned in slightly, and she smiled wider.

Good, this was good. Or it should’ve been, but even as she laughed at something I said, I couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong this felt. How empty it was. How there was no spark of recognition. No pull. No history under my skin. Just noise. She wasn’t Maisey. I didn’t want anyone but Maisey.

The realization hit sharper than I expected.

I drained my glass as another one appeared in front of me. I drank that too. Because it didn’t matter if I wanted Maisey; I didn’t deserve her. Not after everything I had done.

Austin was shouting something across the table, someone else laughing too loud. The blonde had shifted closer again, clearly encouraged, clearly thinking she was winning at something I wasn’t even playing. Her perfume was sweet, so sweet I suddenly felt like it was suffocating me.

I stood up so abruptly that the chair scraped back.

She blinked up at me. “Where are you going?”

“Outside,” I said, already stepping away.

“Wait—”

But I didn’t stop.

The air outside was colder, quieter, a relief I hadn’t realized I needed until it hit me full force. I dragged a hand through my hair, exhaling hard as I leaned against the wall.

What the hell is wrong with me? This was exactly what I used to want. No expectations. No strings. No history. So why did it feel like I was trying to force something that wasn’t there?

My phone buzzed.

Sebastian:

You alive or have you fully self-destructed yet?

I stared at it for a second, but didn’t reply. Because I already knew what he’d say next. I closed my eyes.

And for a second—just one stupid second—I thought I could still smell her. Like she was standing right beside me. I exhaled sharply. I needed another fucking drink. I needed to forget it all.

I pushed off the wall and headed back inside anyway. Falling back into my reputation, being the reckless party boy was easier, especially when alcohol and music were involved.

17

MAISEY | PRESENT