The Promotion

Chapter Six

Opening my eyes felt like a mission. They were heavy, reluctant, struggling to adjust to the dimly lit room around me. My head throbbed dully, clouded and thick from the amount of alcohol I'd consumed the night before. For a while, I stayed lying flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, willing the pounding in my skull to ease.

Slowly, memories began to filter back in.

Shots. Dancing. More shots. Dancing again. Laughing with Sarah, the music vibrating through my body. Then the point where I'd lost her in the crowd. And then—him.

The mystery guy.

The memory of dancing with him crept in uninvited, followed by the undeniable recollection of kissing him. My chest tightened as I remembered how good it had felt in that moment—how natural, how intoxicating.

My heart began to race.

I squeezed my eyes shut, suddenly anxious, silently praying that he wasn't lying beside me. I forced myself to open one eye, then slowly turned my head to the right.

Relief flooded through me when I realised where I was.

Sarah's bedroom.

I let out a long breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

Carefully, I pushed myself upright, the room tilting slightly as I did. Still groggy, still unsteady, I glanced around and noticed Sarah sprawled dramatically on the floor, completely knocked out.

I shook my head at the sight. How we'd managed to get back here was a complete mystery.

Grabbing a pillow, I tossed it at her. It bounced harmlessly off her back.

She let out a low grumble and turned away.

"Sarah, get up!" I called.

"Stop shouting," she groaned, covering her face with her arm. "My head is killing me."

I climbed out of bed, my stomach suddenly rumbling loudly. Hunger hit me all at once—deep and insistent. I craved something greasy, heavy, a proper full English breakfast.

After gulping down some water, the dryness in my throat eased slightly. I filled another glass and carried it over to Sarah, splashing it lightly onto her face.

"Louisa!" she yelped, jolting upright.

"Get up," I said flatly. "I'm starving."

She glared at me. "What do you want me to do about that?"

I knelt beside her and shook her shoulder until she finally opened her eyes properly.

"Stop that," she snapped, brushing my hands away.

"I'm hungry," I repeated, deliberately obnoxious.

She sighed deeply, then struggled to her feet, wobbling slightly as she stood. She stared at me with bleary eyes, like she was peering straight into my soul.

"Get the eggs," she ordered. "I'll get the bacon. We're having breakfast."

I plastered on the biggest smile I could manage and gestured for her to lead the way. She rolled her eyes and shuffled toward the kitchen.

⸻

By the time I finished the last bite, I felt impossibly full—but human again. My head was clearer, my body steadier.

"Oh my," I sighed, stretching my arms overhead. "That was delicious."

"Indeed," Sarah agreed, taking the final sip of her tea. Then she tilted her head, studying me. "So... is there anything you'd like to tell me?"