To End That Situationship

Chapter 2C: The Second Weekend

The staff guided us up to the VVIP tables on the second floor, which overlooked the entire crowd below. A couple of people greeted him as we passed, and he occasionally guided me toward their tables to return the greeting.

“Jordan! Who are you with tonight, a friend?” a guy asked, turning his gaze to me. He smiled and extended his hand. “I’m Adam, Jordan’s friend.”

I shook his hand and smiled back. Before I could even open my mouth to answer, Matthew cut in.

“She’s Rie.”

“Right, Riri then,” Adam teased. Did everyone in this city just assume they could invent a nickname for me? Rie was already short, why make the effort to double it?

“Shut up, Adam,” Matthew snapped playfully. “Call her Rie.”

It took us some time to reach the table reserved for us. The waiter handed us the menus. Matthew ordered scotch whisky without even glancing at his, and the waiter nodded before turning his gaze to me, waiting for my order.

“Maybe a margarita?” Matthew suggested. I quickly scanned the cocktail list and ordered the first thing that caught my eye. “I’ll have a Long Island, please.”

The waiter smiled, took the menus, and asked if we wanted any snacks. Matthew looked at me to see if I had anything in mind. Since I didn't, we just settled on some nachos and fries.

“Not a fan of margaritas? I see you prefer something a bit stronger,” Matthew teased.

I shrugged.

“It’s just that the last time I drank a margarita, I made a total mess. I swore right then that they were my mortal enemy.”

He laughed, while I grimaced at the memory. I swore to all the saints I could still taste that overly sweet peach-flavored nightmare. Ugh.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him casually taking a few quick selfies and sending them to someone. He didn’t even try to hide it from me. I guess sending random snaps of himself was just his thing—which explained why he always sent them to me, too.

After a few minutes, the waiter returned with our drinks. I looked down at the tall, condensation-covered glass of my Long Island. Matthew lifted his glass of whisky and gestured for a toast, clinking his glass against mine. Surprisingly, my drink didn’t taste like alcohol at all; I could only taste the sharp lemon juice and cola. Turning my attention to the floor below, I watched the crowd packed together, moving to the beat.

“Do you want to dance?” he asked, clearly noticing where my attention was.

“No. I’m way too sober for that,” I said, looking back at him. “Do you want to dance?”

“Nah. I’m too sober for that, too,” he repeated, throwing a playful wink my way.

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile slipped out anyway. He was entirely too charming for his own good. Suddenly, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then shot me a quick look before answering. Not wanting him to think I was eavesdropping, I immediately averted my eyes and pretended to watch the dance floor again.

“Hey, man,” I heard him say. He laughed, throwing out some silly threats. “No, I don’t want your company. Dare to come over and I’ll kill you.”

He stayed on the phone for at least two minutes before finally wrapping up. “Right, okay. f**k you,” he said, right before slipping the phone back into his pocket.

“I’m sorry about that. It’s just one of my friends,” he explained. I just smiled and nodded. Not that I cared, anyway.

“Are you a regular here?” I asked, taking a sip of my drink. I mean, I already knew the answer, but I wanted to keep the conversation flowing.

“Maybe?” he teased, chuckling a little. I glanced up, only to find him staring directly at me. The sheer intensity of his gaze caught me off guard, and I almost choked on my drink.

“Do you like cats?” he asked out of nowhere. Now he had my full attention.

“Why are you asking?” I countered, deflecting the question.

“I want to know if you like cats before inviting you to my place. I have cats.” I felt my face flush—not from embarrassment this time, but from pure excitement about the mention of cats.

“Really? I love cats! I have four back home. They’re basically my kids, and honestly, they’re the main reason I’m working so hard. I need money for their premium litter sand,” I joked. A warm smile spread across his face.

“I have two adults. Their names are Coffee and Azul. Azul actually just gave birth.” A wave of pure envy washed over me. Kittens were the absolute best—all they did was sleep and look adorable.

“Do you have pictures of them?” I asked, the excitement completely unmistakable in my voice.

“Yeah, look.” Matthew slid over to sit right next to me. Where we had been facing each other across the table before, he was now right by my side, navigating through his phone gallery. His arm softly brushed against mine as he held the screen up between us. I became hyper-aware that his other arm had casually stretched out along the back of my chair, nearly framing me in. But the moment I looked at the screen, my racing thoughts instantly evaporated. There they were, a picture of five tiny, impossibly fluffy kittens piled together.

“Oh my god! They are so cute!” I gasped, looking up at him before turning my eyes right back on the screen, unable to look away.

“They are,” he agreed, chuckling. “But they’re incredibly stubborn, too. They love playing near the balcony, so I had to completely kitten-proof the netting since I live up on the 23rd floor.”

He swiped to show me a few videos of them tumbling over one another near the balcony. They were absolutely adorable.

“You know, they’re a lot cuter in person,” Matthew murmured, his voice cutting through my hazy thoughts. “You should visit my place sometime.”

My mind was still completely occupied by the image of those fluffy little kittens when I answered him. “Sure!”

The word slipped out before I could stop it. Wait. Did I just agree to go to his place?

My brain was still frantically processing my clumsy response when a sharp female voice cut through the loud music right in front of us.

“Jordan!”

A beautiful woman approached our table. Matthew let out a low groan, shifting away from me as he stood up to greet her.

“Where is Cyron?” Matthew asked immediately, his tone exasperated. “I’m going to kill him.”

Just as the words left his mouth, a man with the exact same broad build as Matthew appeared behind the woman, casually wrapping his arms around her waist. The guy, presumably Cyron, caught my gaze and flashed me a knowing smile before looking back at Matthew.

“Good evening to you too, Jordan,” Cyron said with a chuckle.

The woman’s eyes drifted over to me, tracking back and forth between me and Matthew. Under her sharp gaze, I suddenly became hyper-conscious of what I was wearing. I wasn’t exactly dressed for a wild night out, but I wasn’t dressed badly either, just a bit more casual than the high-end club vibe. Matthew glanced down at me and extended his arm, offering his hand and silently inviting me to stand up and join them.

“This is Rie, my friend and my company tonight. Rie, this is Cyron, my cousin, and his girlfriend, Nikki.”

“Hi!” I smiled at them.

“Hello, good evening,” Cyron answered warmly. Nikki, on the other hand, bypassed a handshake entirely and gave me a quick, gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, lady! You look beautiful,” she said. I immediately felt a blush creeping up, I always get incredibly shy when pretty girls compliment me.

“Thanks! You look gorgeous as well,” I managed to compliment her back.

Before I knew it, we were being escorted to a much larger table. Cyron and Nikki had called Adam and a few of their other friends to join us. Matthew let out a quiet sigh of disbelief, but he didn’t protest and just went with the flow. To be honest, it became a lot more fun once his friends joined. I knew that if it had just been the two of us, I probably would have died of awkwardness by now.

Matthew sat right next to me, though Adam was currently leaning over, talking to him about something.

After a few minutes, I caught Matthew looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head, and he offered a soft smile. He said something to me, but between the thumping bass and the chatter around us, I couldn’t hear a word. I leaned closer to him, and he tilted his head down to meet me. His breath was warm against my skin as he whispered directly into my ear.

“Are you okay with my friends crashing our night like this?”

I smiled and whispered back, “Yeah. They’re really fun!”

We kept talking like that for a while, our heads bowed together in our own quiet bubble amidst the noise.

“Tell me the second you’re not having a good time, and we’ll leave,” he promised.

I nodded, taking another sip from my, honestly, I had completely lost count of how many Long Islands I’d had at this point. A few tracks later, Nikki and the other girls started dancing in the empty space in the middle of our U-shaped VIP booth. I burst out laughing when Nikki started playfully giving Cyron a subtle lap dance right there. Our table was easily the loudest and most alive in the entire venue.

Suddenly, one of the girls bounced over to me, grabbing my hands and pulling me into the center to dance with them. Maybe it was the liquor finally possessing my limbs, but instead of refusing, I laughed and joined right in.

As I moved to the music with the girls, I looked back at the sofa chairs. Even though Matthew was deep in conversation with Adam again, his eyes were locked onto me, watching my every move intently.