Page 57 of More For Me

“Lele!” Fox shouts when I stand. He throws up his arms. “Come dance with me!”

“Great,” I hear Rose mutter from the couch. “The two drunkest people here should definitely team up.”

Eva says something about Bodhi being worse off but I ignore it and somehow manage to make it to Fox, not stumbling until I’m right in front of him. He just laughs, holding me up by my forearms. He points his beer bottle at Jasmine, River’s fiancée, who’s sitting on the floor by the stereo talking to Alex and Wyatt. Half the beer seems to end up on his feet, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Jassy, put on some of that EDM shit you like.”

“Yes,” I agree, jumping up and down a few times in an attempt to get into it. “It sucks, but we can dance to it.”

She rolls her eyes, but does turn around to change the playlist. A moment later, something upbeat and pulsing comes on, and I grin. This is what I need. Music. Dancing. Hopefully another gin and tonic. Rose was right—I’m not the type to sit on a couch being sad at a party. I’m like, the opposite of sad couch girl. Happy dance floor girl. That’s me.

“What are you talking about?” Fox asks, laughing. I touch my lips, wondering how much of that I said out loud. Shit, I really am drunk.

I force myself not to worry about that, closing my eyes and getting into the music instead. Fox keeps trying to recruit people to join us and pretty soon there’s a decent group dancing around the middle of my living room. Alex and Wyatt, some girl I think Fox invited—from the way she’s sending him fuck me eyes—Eva’s sister, Katherine, and one of the guys who works at Will’s tattoo shop—whose name I can’t remember, on account of all the gin in my veins.

“Where’s Bodhi?” Fox shouts over the music. “Since when is there dancing without Bodhi?”

And just like that, the happiness flows right out of me. Fox is right—dancing without Bodhi seems wrong. Especially when I know the reason he isn’t dancing is because he’s sad. He had a shitty night and instead of trying to help him, I just focused on my own selfish hurts and left him alone to drink.

But God, it did hurt. It hurt so bad when I found out he hadn’t told me. And even worse when he said he didn’t tell me because I wasn’t his best friend. It felt like the wind was knocked out of me, the pain in my chest so deep I almost had to pull over.

Of course you’re not his best friend,I think, rubbing my face.He’s sad and you’re talking to glasses of gin and tonic and dancing to shitty EDM instead of supporting him.

“I don’t feel like dancing anymore,” I tell Fox. In fact, I don’t even feel like standing. So I don’t. I drop down onto my knees, the room tilting at a terrible angle, then flop backwards onto my butt.

Fox, apparently, didn’t even notice, because those are definitely his legs dancing next to me. Alex noticed, though, because all of a sudden, her face is right in front of mine, filled with worry.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wanted to sit for a while,” I tell her, closing my eyes.

She takes my hands. “Let’s go sit down together,” she says gently. “You need some water. Probably some food.”

I’m sure she’s right—it feels like I haven’t eaten all day. I barely had anything at the dinner. It had all been too terrible to have any appetite.

And just like that, I’m crying again. Hard. “You’re a good friend, Alex,” I sob. “Not like me. I’m the worst.”

“I think you’re going to need to lift her up,” Alex says, worried. I don’t know who she’s talking to—probably Wyatt—but I don’t really care. I have no desire to go anywhere. If I’m going to have a breakdown, the floor seems like as good a place as any.

Hands reach out to wrap around my biceps and I’m about to smack them away when the scent of his cologne hits me. I know that smell. I open my eyes and sure enough, Bodhi is kneeling in front of me.

Even in my drunken state, I can see his eyes are red-rimmed. But his gaze is steady as he locks eyes with me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I sniff, wiping at my eyes.

“What are you doing down here?”

I shrug. “Just felt like sitting on the floor.”

He nods, like that makes total sense, and I have to laugh, the sound awful and sob-like. “How about we move to a different part of the floor?” he suggests. “So we don’t get trampled.”

“Okay.”

He helps me to my feet, keeping me steady when my knees want to go out. “I like the floor in the sunroom,” he offers. “We have that nice soft rug in there.”

I give him a watery smile. “You’re right. It’s probably the nicest floor in the house.”

“Does anyone have any idea what the fuck they’re talking about?” a guy’s voice asks—River?—and I wonder how many people are listening to us right now. It occurs to me the music is off and no one is dancing anymore.

“It’s fine,” Bodhi says, taking my elbow. “You guys go back to your party. I’ve got her.”