Page 35 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

But it isn’t my company she wants up there, it’s Natalie’s. Or someone else, maybe.

I pull out my phone and text her, saying if she needs someone to keep her company… do it. Invite them. I’m past the point of caring, and I’m definitely not going to go sit and cry with her. I just can’t handle it.

Where to go, though?

11

Sky

“I’m not going inside,” I inform Liam. “I’m going to get a drink.”

He grimaces but doesn’t bother asking where I’ll find a bar to serve me. If he’s next to me, it won’t matter.

I head off down the street, shaking my hair out of its braid. It falls in loose waves around my face. I rub away some of the eyeliner that’s collected under my eyes, trying to neaten my appearance. I may be invisible, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.

He follows me down the block silently, into one of the bars around campus that features cheap mixed drinks. Actually, Whitney works here—it’s one of the reasons I even know they serve underage students. I haven’t done it in person, but she sure has talked about it enough.

I thought to bring my small purse, so at least I have money to burn.

The fact that I don’t have anyone to call to sit with me at this bar is… sad.

And a bit disappointing.

I slide onto a stool, and Liam hesitates for a second, then takes the one next to me.

“Two drinks,” he says.

“We’ll see.” I shrug.

The bartender approaches and frowns at me. Her gaze flips to Liam and melts.

“Oof,” I mutter.

“I’ll take a beer, Ari,” he says, leaning his forearms on the bar and smirking at her. “And my friend here will have a watermelon margarita.”

I jab him with my elbow. “I can order for myself.”

Ari raises her eyebrows. “You know who you just elbowed, kid?”

“Kid? Seriously.”

Liam’s smirk widens into a full, shit-eating grin. “Go ahead, baby.”

I stare at him. The baby is just a reference to me being called a kid, but heat bursts through my core. A word shouldn’t affect me like it does, but there we have it.

I’m depraved and like the way the word makes his lips move.

Sue me.

“Watermelon margarita,” I say. “Sugar rim.”

I think he hides a smile behind his hand, but I can’t be sure.

“And a shot of tequila. Silver.”

The bartender grins and nods once, setting a shot glass in front of me.

“Liam?” she asks.