She leaned forward and I couldn’t help but notice her cleavage. Definitely Dex’s type.

‘Does he have a girlfriend?’

I blinked. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’

She grinned, and I felt it in my gut. Nic had told me to look after her, but I couldn’t stop this, whatever this was.

‘Do you think he—’

‘Honestly,’ I cut her off. ‘I wouldn’t go there.’

Her grin faded. ‘Why not?’

I went to answer, but suddenly I didn’t know how. There were a hundred reasons, but in that moment I couldn’t think of a single one. She looked at me, waiting.

‘Stock, Cait,’ Nic said, a little too loudly, catching my eye and passing me a coffee.

‘Sorry,’ she whispered, straightening up.

‘It’s okay.’ I gave her a half-smile as she walked away, downed the coffee in one go. It took me a second to feel the vodka burning my throat and I fought back a cough.

‘I don’t get it.’ Nic crouched down in front of the fridge next to me, pulling it open. ‘Four milks, three skim, two soy.’

I picked up my pen and started writing, concentrating so hard my eyes hurt. My throat was still on fire. ‘What was that? Jesus.’

‘Bootleg espresso martini,’ he said, without turning around. ‘Sunday night special.’

I grimaced. ‘Thanks. What don’t you get?’

‘Three almond. Two rice. Cream … two cream. What he does to get all you girls going like that?’ He shook his head. ‘Make that three cream. And one less almond—there’s a stray up the back here.’

‘That was Rachel,’ I said quickly.

He laughed. ‘I know. Seriously, though, what is it? Has he got a really big—’ he caught my eye and mouthed the word silently ‘—or something?’

‘Yeah, it’s huge,’ I deadpanned. ‘What about mixers?’

‘I’m getting there.’

I saw Emma in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning on the wall, one hand on her perfectly jutting hip, and my smile faltered.

‘Ugh,’ Nic said, coming upright next to me and following my gaze.

Her ponytail hung straight and neat down her back. I tucked a loose strand of my own hair, neither straight nor neat, behind my ear. ‘I know. Less than a week. This might be a new record.’

‘You really think he would?’ Nic raised an eyebrow. ‘She’s nineteen.’

‘That’s legal, right?’

‘Ew.’ He shook his head. ‘I still can’t believe you went there.’

‘Neither can I.’

‘We all make mistakes,’ Nic said.

‘I don’t,’ I said, more to myself than to him.

I didn’t get attached. I didn’t do relationships. I never had.

‘Good point,’ he said, then crouched down in front of the fridges again. ‘Two Coke. One tonic. Two lemonade. Four cranberry. One pomegranate. Two elderberry.’