*Isabella's POV*
"Hi!!" Elly's voice shouted from behind me, a sharp, happy sound that cut through my thoughts. I pulled back, a little startled, to see her with a man standing just behind her. He was tall, with kind eyes and a warm smile.
"I am back," she announced with a triumphant grin.
"Happy Birthday, man," the man behind her said, his voice a deep, friendly rumble. So this must be him. Her husband.
"Thanks, man. Glad you could make it," Jacob said, his arm still wrapped securely around my waist.
"Isabella, this is my husband, Liam," Elly said, her eyes sparkling. "Liam, this is Isabella."
"My girlfriend," Jacob said, and the words, spoken so casually in front of all these people, sent a strange, warm jolt straight through me.
"There he goes again" Elly said with a giggle rolling her eyes.
"Nice to meet you, Isabella," Liam said, his smile genuine as he offered his left hand.
"Nice to meet you too, Liam," I said, shaking his hand. He seemed nice. Normal. Which made his wife, Elly, seem even more insane.
"Let's get you something to drink," Jacob said to Liam, and they walked away together, leaving me and Elly alone. The crowd seemed to swell up around us again.
"Don't make that face," she said, nudging me with her elbow. I hadn't even realised I was making one.
"What face?" I asked, trying to look innocent.
"You're thinking about Liam's accident," she said, her voice dropping slightly, her eyes knowing.
"Maybe I am a little curious," I admitted nervously, which just made her giggle.
"It's his right arm," she said, her tone shifting to something more serious, a shared secret. "A glass cut through it and destroyed a nerve completely. He couldn't rely on the hand and has had some surgeries in the meantime, but it's not fully recovered. He'll be able to go back to work by the end of this year, doctors say." She said it all so matter-of-factly, like she'd recited it a thousand times.
Now that she'd fed my curiosity, I felt a pang of sympathy for the man I'd just met.
"I'm glad that he's better," I said, my voice sincere.
"You know, we couldn't have made it without Jacob," she said, her gaze softening as she looked over at where her husband and Jacob were standing by the bar. It was a rare, unguarded moment for Elly.
"By the way," she said, her mischievous glint returning as she looked back at me. "Half an hour into the party and the fucker already ate up all your lipstick." She said it with a giggle, pointing at my mouth.
"Fuck Elly!" I exclaimed, my hand flying up to my lips. She was right. It was completely gone. I felt a blush creep up my neck, a mix of embarrassment and something else, something warm and happy that I tried to ignore.
Soon, I was drinking and dancing with Jacob, my heart thumping a frantic, happy rhythm against my ribs that had fuck-all to do with the actual music. The bass was a physical thing, a deep thump I felt in my bones, but it was his hand on my hip, his laugh warm and right in my ear, that was the real music. I felt free, alive, fucking exhilarated, and it wasn't the expensive champagne or the beautiful people or the sound of the waves crashing on the shore just beyond the deck. It was him. It was always just him.
"Sweets," he said, his voice a low rumble against my hair, "I have to give a short interview, I won't be long." The moment he said it, a little bit of the perfect, glittery bubble we were in just... popped. A flicker of disappointment, cold and sharp, went through me.
"Go, don't worry," I said, pulling back to look at him, trying to sound casual, like my stomach didn't just do a fucking backflip. "Elly and Liam are here somewhere." I gestured vaguely at the crowd.
With that, he pulled me in for another kiss. It wasn't a quick, 'see you in a bit' peck. It was a slow, deep, 'I'm thinking about you later and I'm going to wreck you when I get back' kind of kiss that made my knees feel like they might fucking betray me and my head spin. He tasted of champagne and a promise.
"Just go already," I said with a giggle, pushing playfully at his solid chest. I had to get him away from me before I did something stupid, like beg him not to leave, or drag him into a dark corner.
He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made my toes curl, and then he was gone, swallowed by the sea of people, and the loud, shitty dance music suddenly just sounded loud and shitty again. The vibrant energy of the party felt dull and grating now that he was gone.
And so did I. The bubble well and truly burst. The crowd of bodies, the sticky floor, the desperate need for another fucking drink... none of it appealed anymore. I needed a minute. I needed to find a quiet corner and, fuck, I needed to pee.
I was trying to find the fucking bathroom, navigating through a sea of bodies and the constant, thumping bass that was starting to give me a headache. The party was a blur of expensive dresses and too-loud laughter, and all I wanted was a minute of peace. Of course, that's when it happened.
A stuck-up looking blonde woman, with a face that looked like it had been sculpted from pure, judgment, bumped straight into me.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" she snapped, her voice dripping with a kind of entitled annoyance that immediately set my teeth on edge.
"Excuse me?" I asked, my voice already laced with a warning. I wiped the sticky liquid off my skin. "You walked into me as if I was invisible."
"Oh, I know you," she said, her eyes scanning me from head to toe, a look that was both dismissive and weirdly knowing.
"You do?" I gasped, a genuine shock cutting through my annoyance.
"You may have nice clothes," she continued, her lips curling into a sneer, "but you still reek of trailer trash."