No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 59

LAUREN'S POV

“Ok, so even if someone walked in there, why are you noticing it?” Tessa asked, her voice raised just enough to carry over the pounding bass that shook the floor beneath us. The music thumped so hard it vibrated in my chest, yet my eyes were locked on the polished black door of the VIP lounge, the one that had just closed behind the stranger.

“You didn’t see what he did?” I shot back, still half glaring in that direction. “While we were walking, he bumped into me hard and couldn’t even say a single apology.”

Tessa tilted her head, her long curls bouncing as she gave me that familiar look that said Lauren, you’re overthinking again. “Didn’t you see where he walked into? That wasn’t just any door. That was the VIP lounge, babe. Do you know how impossible it is for normal people like us to even breathe in that section? For him to walk in there so casually, it means he’s part of the big boys. And those guys?” She scoffed, tugging at her dress strap with a roll of her eyes. “They barely notice people like us.”

I exhaled, a small, defeated sigh leaving my lips. Maybe she was right. Still, there was something about the way he’d brushed past me, not even sparing a glance, that made my skin prickle. Shaking it off, I dusted imaginary lint from my shoulders, pretending to care more about my dress than my annoyance.

“Look,” Tessa added quickly, slipping her arm through mine before my thoughts could wander deeper, “don’t let him ruin your night. We came here for a reason. Now let’s continue our journey toward the bar before I collapse from thirst.”

With that, she dragged me forward, weaving us through the tangle of arms, swaying hips, and glittering sequins. The crowd swallowed us whole, but Tessa had a way of pulling me through, like she always did, her determination sharp enough to part even the thickest sea of people.

By the time we finally reached the bar, I had to admit I was impressed. It stretched wide across the club, unlike the small, crammed counters I was used to. Here, the bartenders moved in a rhythm, juggling bottles and pouring colorful liquids into tall, shining glasses.

Sliding onto a stool, I tugged my gown down to make sure it covered my thighs before settling. Tessa was already leaning forward with her elbows on the counter, shouting her order with the confidence of someone who owned the night.

“Five shots and one orange tropical juice,” she said, tapping her manicured nail against the counter for emphasis.

I raised a brow. “Five shots? Really?”

She turned to me, smirking. “Don’t look at me like that.”

The bartender nodded, already reaching for bottles, his hands moving with skill. I watched as he lined up the tiny glasses, filling them quickly before sliding a tall glass of bright orange toward me.

“I’m not trying to force you to take alcohol,” Tessa said, pointing toward the juice like it was some kind of betrayal, “but come on. We came here to be crazy, and you’re not going to get crazy with just that.”

I wrapped my fingers around the cold glass, lifting it slightly. “I can still have fun without drinking. And besides,” I added, giving her a pointed look, “you have a very low tolerance for alcohol. You’re going to be all over the place once you’ve taken those five shots.”

“Exactly the point!” She laughed, tossing her hair back with a little flip. “Like I said, we’re here to party, and I want to bring out the real party animal in me. Look, I get it you don’t want to get drunk, and that’s fine. We can’t both get wasted because someone has to be responsible and drag the other one home. Since you’re not drinking, I’ll take the responsibility of getting absolutely wasted. And you…” she poked me lightly on the shoulder “are going to video it for me. For memories.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, though I shook my head in disbelief. “You do realize you have work tomorrow, right?”

“I know, I know,” she waved me off like I was her mother lecturing her. “That’s why you’re here. You’re going to wake me up when you’re going for your interview. I’ll survive.”

“Yes, I will,” I agreed, but my lips curled into a small smirk. “But what about the horrible things that come after getting drunk the previous night? Horrible things like pounding headaches, dizziness, and nausea that might disturb your oh-so-important work?”

“There you go entering MOM mode again,” Tessa said, rolling her eyes so dramatically I thought they might stay stuck that way. She let out an exaggerated sigh, the kind that always came whenever she thought I was being too serious.

“Here I go,” she announced like a performer about to take the stage, lifting one shot glass high in her hand as though making a toast to the night.

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