“No reason,” he whispered back, leaning towards me a little. The whiskey sour must’ve had a higher alcohol content than my margarita.
“Are you tipsy already?” I asked, amused. “You’ve only had one drink.”
“It’s hitting me harder because of the jet lag, I think,” Neil replied just as Isaac climbed the stairs to the roof bar, and everyone leapt up, bursting into a chorus of “SURPRISE!” He jumped back, startled, and I could tell it was a genuine reaction. He hadn’t been expecting the party. He probably thought that since they’d all just gotten back from such a long trip, they wouldn’t have the time to plan anything.
People all flocked to him to wish him a happy birthday while I remained seated next to Neil, and we quietly drank our beers. Over the course of the next three hours, I was introduced to most of the people who worked on Running on Air, as well as many of their significant others. I think a lot of people assumed I was Neil’s girlfriend since we were both glued to each other the entire night. Every time I met Michaela’s gaze, she was practically brimming over with mirth. She clearly enjoyed the idea of Neil and me forming a connection. I’d have to reiterate the fact to her soon that we were only friends.
Then I grimaced, remembering I’d agreed to go with Neil when he met Annabelle tomorrow. I was so nervous for him, and honestly, I was worried because I got the sense Annabelle was the kind of person to freak out over what Neil had done. If she was as shallow and mean as I suspected, then she might go crazy at him when she discovered the truth. Well, at least I’d be there to protect him if she did.
I had a feeling Neil’s nerves for tomorrow were getting the better of him, too, because he hadn’t stopped at those two initial drinks. I was pretty certain he was now on his fifth drink and working towards a sixth. I had also consumed several drinks myself and was feeling tipsy.
“I don’t think you should go,” I blurted.
We were sitting in our seats by the wall again while most of the other party-goers danced in the middle of the roof terrace to some catchy pop song.
Neil tilted his head to me, a shine of inebriation in his gorgeous brown eyes. Had they always been gorgeous or was I just now noticing them? His normally perfect hair was a little mussed, his glasses a little askew, and my fingers itched to reach out and fix them for him.
“You don’t think I should go where?”
“To meet Annabelle tomorrow. I’m worried.”
“Me, too.”
“Is that why you’re getting shitfaced?”
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“Why don’t you just cancel?”
“I can’t. I have to do this. I have to come clean.”
“No, you don’t,” I said emphatically before lowering my voice to a whisper. “Catfishing is a lot more common than you’d think. And the vast majority of people who do it never have some big moment of confession, and certainly not face to face.”
“The lie is weighing on me. I have to get it out,” he said, his words slightly slurred as he brought his gaze to mine. “You’ll still come with me, won’t you?”
I blew out a breath. “Of course, I’ll still come. I’ll even take out my hoops for you if it comes to it.”
His brow furrowed. “Take out your—”
I motioned to my earrings. “I’ll take these out and fight her if she’s cruel to you. I mean it. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the day in a busy café. If she doesn’t realise what a gem you are, then I’m liable to lose it,” I said, rambling tipsily.
At this, Neil smiled. Then he surprised me when he tiredly rested his head on my shoulder. “I think that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever promised to do for me.”
“Well, I’m bordering on drunk, so don’t get used to it,” I replied with a chuckle, enjoying his warmth on my shoulder. The next time I glanced down, I found him fast asleep, his breathing slow and steady. “Poor boy, you’re exhausted,” I whispered as I finally gave in to the urge to fix his glasses.
He wasn’t lying when he said alcohol made him sleepy because, judging from his breathing, he was completely conked out.
I was busy admiring his face while he slept when someone cleared their throat, and I looked up to find Michaela standing over us with James at her side. “Is he asleep?” she whispered.
I nodded. “He’s still jet-lagged, and I think he drank a little too much.”
“We should call a taxi to take him home,” Michaela said. “I can’t leave, though. I have to hand the keys over to the clean-up crew once the party is over.”