Then it releases. Warmth flutters through me from head to toe. I feel like champagne, fizzling from within. I’m gooey and flushed in the best possible way.
Then it squeezes again, harder this time…
… because he’s already looked away.
He turns back to the man he was speaking with. Says something. The man laughs.
And I’m left feeling cold, cold, cold.
I have fish eggs in my mouth and champagne going flat in my hand. I feel garishly on display in this dress. For a brief second in my apartment, I thought maybe I looked good. But Lukas’s icy rejection from afar has dashed those thoughts to a million little pieces.
I swallow the canapé and chase it with a swig of champagne. Bigger than a swig, actually. More like a gulp. A gulp-and-a-half, if we’re being honest. Might’ve been two. Sue me.
