Clara
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk.”
Reig stared at me blankly.
“You just tried to fight the bathroom door because you thought it insulted you.”
I frowned.
“…It was looking at me weird.”
That only made him sigh while rubbing a hand across his face.
God.
Why was he still attractive even while being stressed?
The loud music from the bar echoed softly behind us while the cold ocean breeze brushed against my skin. Reig stood in front of me with that serious expression again—the one he always made whenever he was worried.
Which honestly happened a lot around me lately.
“I’m taking you back,” he said firmly.
“I can still drink.”
“No.”
“I hate your attitude.”
“You’ll survive.”
Rude.
I crossed my arms dramatically while glaring at him.
“What about the others?”
“Marco, Jack
