In Love With My Bully-Chapter 92: Luxe Club

Luxe Club was the kind of place where the music thrummed through the floors, the air smelled of expensive perfume and bad decisions, and the lighting was just dim enough to make regret look attractive.

Chayara hated it here.

Not because she was a prude...far from it. But because Queen turned into a walking disaster after two drinks. Not the crying, dramatic kind of drunk, but the reckless, I-can-do-anything-and-I-will kind. And since Queen had no off-switch, Chayara had made it her sacred duty to be her unofficial babysitter.

She sighed as they slid into their reserved booth. Luxe was an exclusive club, which meant overpriced cocktails, influencers taking moody selfies, and a suspicious number of men who looked like they were either oil tycoons or professional heartbreakers.

As expected, Queen was immediately the center of attention.

Chayara had long accepted that standing next to Queen was like standing next to the sun—you either basked in the glow or got burned trying to outshine it.

The moment they sat down, a waiter approached, setting down an absurd selection of drinks.

"Compliments of the gentlemen at the bar," he said with a well-practiced, flirty grin.

Queen lifted an eyebrow. "I don’t think I have ever paid for a drink in a club."

Chayara snorted, glancing toward the bar where a few hopeful men were doing their best smoldering looks. "I wonder why. Everyone here is looking at you like you’re the solution to world hunger."

Queen laughed, raising her glass like royalty about to make a toast to her adoring subjects. "Not complaining."

Chay took a sip of her drink, relaxing slightly.

"Actually, I brought us here to talk about you."

Chayara groaned. "Why does that sound like an intervention?"

Queen gave her a pointed look. "Because it is. Ever since Grandpa died, it’s like you’ve stopped dreaming. You don’t want to work with me. You don’t want to do anything."

"I have enough money to last me three lifetimes," Chayara countered, swirling her drink. "I just want to work on my art."

"And I told you...you could manage our fashion store. Your designs are epic. Hell, half my wardrobe is from you."

Chayara didn’t answer.

Because how could she tell Queen that working under Numero Corp wasn’t an option? That Lilian would get even more determined. That she didn’t want to end up like her father...Sam, who got swallowed whole by the corporate beast?

"I’ll let you know when I’m ready to join the real world," she said instead.

Queen huffed but let it go.

"Did you say Liam was coming?" Chayara asked.

"Yeah," Queen checked her phone. "He should be here by now, actually."

Chayara made a face. "You still plan on marrying him if he proposes?"

"Why not?" freewebnoveℓ.com

Chayara raised a skeptical brow.

"Oh, come on, Chay. Have you been talking to my dad?"

"No, I just don’t think he loves you."

Queen rolled her eyes. "You know my mom and dad fell in love after marriage, right?"

"Yes, but you never listen to that story properly," Chay said. "Their story is more beautiful than you make it sound. They are my standard."

Queen groaned dramatically. "Please. All I want right now is to become CEO. I don’t have time for love. It’s draining."

Chayara rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat, scanning the room. Something felt...off.

There were a lot of eyes on their table, but one particular stare sent a shiver down her spine. It was too intense, too focused, too... familiar.

She turned her head, and her breath hitched.

A man sat across the club, watching them with a small, knowing smile. He had the kind of confidence that came with experience; tall, broad shoulders, and an effortless charm that made people take a second look.

"I think we have a creep, Queen," she muttered.

"What?"

"Someone is watching you."

"Chayara, everyone is watching me." Queen grinned.

"No, I mean watching... watching, you idiot."

"Chay, will you please relax?"

Chayara ignored her, muscles tensing as the man stood and started walking toward them.

"He’s coming over," she whispered.

"Will you please relax?" Queen repeated, unbothered.

The man finally reached their table, and Chayara swore the air shifted.

"Queen? Chay?" he said, his voice deep, warm, and laced with amusement.

Queen frowned. "Do we know you?"

The man placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Really? You don’t remember me? I’m hurt."

Chayara inhaled sharply, her stomach flipping.

"Drake..." she whispered.

Drake flashed a grin, and just like that, she was fourteen again, sitting on the bleachers, sneaking glances at the bodyguard’s son who had unknowingly stolen her heart.

Oh, crap.

Queen tilted her head, eyeing Drake like she was running a background check in real time. Then, her face lit up with recognition.

"Oh my God, Drake?" She jumped up and threw her arms around him.

Chayara, on the other hand, was frozen in place, her brain short-circuiting.

Of all the people she expected to bump into tonight, Drake was not on the list.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Queen demanded, pulling back. "Last I checked, you were halfway across the world."

Drake chuckled. "Just got back a few weeks ago." His eyes flickered to Chayara. "It’s good to see you, Chay."

Chayara, still in mild shock, cleared her throat. "Yeah. You too."

Liar.

It was not just ’good’ to see him. It was confusing, unsettling, and a little bit like getting hit by a train of unresolved emotions.

Drake slid into the seat next to Queen, looking at them like he was amused by their expressions. "So, what have you two been up to?"

Queen launched into a dramatic rundown of her life; Numero Corp, the engagement that was definitely coming, the CEO title she was fighting for. Chayara sat quietly, watching Drake listen with that easy charm he always had.

He hadn’t changed much.

Still effortlessly good-looking. Still carrying himself with that calm confidence.

Still completely unaware that Chayara had spent most of high school being hopelessly, stupidly in love with him.

And now he was here. Sitting across from her.

"So, Chay," Drake turned to her, breaking into her spiraling thoughts. "What about you?"

"What about me?" she replied, playing with the condensation on her glass.

Drake smirked. "Still hate small talk, I see."

Queen laughed. "Oh, trust me, she does. She’s allergic to human interaction outside of me and like...three other people."

Drake leaned forward. "So, what have you been up to? I remember you always sketching. You still draw?"

Chayara hesitated, thrown off by the genuine interest in his voice.

"Yeah," she admitted. "Still do."

"Good," he said, and his smile was warm enough to make her heart betray her.

Queen raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in energy between them but said nothing.

For the rest of the night, Chayara tried to ignore the fact that she was sitting across from the man she once loved...the man who had unknowingly shaped her idea of romance.

The music had slowed, transitioning from the wild anthems of the night to the kind of soft, sultry tunes that made couples gravitate toward each other like love-struck magnets.

"So, where’s this boyfriend?" Drake asked, lazily swirling the drink in his hand. His gaze flickered toward Queen, but there was something teasing in his tone. "I’ve been waiting to ask Chayara for a dance, but sitting here twiddling my thumbs isn’t my style."

Chayara choked on her drink.

A dance? Oh boy.

Queen, completely unfazed, checked her phone. "I don’t know. He’s not picking up his calls. He must have fallen asleep or something."

Drake’s smirk widened. "Okay then. Chay?"

Chayara blinked, mentally buffering like a crashed computer. "Uhn?"

"Come on."

"I can’t leave Queen," she protested, gripping her glass.

Drake tilted his head, looking entirely too entertained. "Some things haven’t changed, I see."

Queen groaned dramatically. "Chay, please. Go. I promise I won’t move an inch."

Chayara glanced at Queen, then back at Drake, who was now extending his hand. She sighed and took it.

"Just so you know, I suck at dancing," she warned, hoping this might dissuade him.

"I know," he whispered back, his voice smooth and annoyingly amused.

And then, before she could find a way to escape, he led her to the center of the floor.

The dance floor was nearly empty, save for a few couples lost in their own little worlds. The golden light from the chandeliers cast a warm glow over the space, giving the illusion of something dreamlike, something intimate.

Something dangerous.

Drake placed one hand on her waist, the other gently clasping hers, and she was taken back to the past. Standing on a basketball court, watching him laugh with his friends, wishing...stupidly, hopelessly...that he would look at her the way she looked at him.

It had taken years to bury that feeling. And now, with one dance, he was unearthing it.

Chayara swallowed. "So, uh... what have you been up to?"

Drake chuckled. "Small talk, Chay? That’s not like you."

"I’m trying to distract myself from the fact that I have no idea what I’m doing right now."

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her temple. "Relax. Just follow my lead."

She was so going to die.

His movements were smooth, effortless. She, on the other hand, was stiff as a board, her brain short-circuiting from being this close to him.

"This isn’t bad," Drake mused.

Chayara scoffed. "You’re doing all the work."

He grinned. "Yeah, but at least you’re not stepping on my toes. That’s progress."

Chayara narrowed her eyes. "Yet. The night is still young."

Drake laughed, and for some ridiculous reason, the sound sent a warm rush through her.

This is fine. This is totally fine.

It was not fine.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before Drake broke it with a question that nearly made her trip over her own feet.

"So... why’d you stop talking to me?"

Chayara’s stomach dropped.

She looked up, and to her horror, he wasn’t teasing anymore. His expression was unreadable, but there was something else there. Something that made her want to run.

"W-What do you mean?" she stammered.

Drake’s lips pressed into a thin line. "You know what I mean."

Crap.

She did.

It had been years since she’d last seen him. Back then, they were inseparable...at least, she had thought they were. But after her grandfather died, she had cut ties. Stopped calling, stopped texting.

Because she had been drowning.

And because she had feelings for him. Stupid, inconvenient, uncharted feelings.

Chayara swallowed. "I—I was going through a lot."

Drake nodded slowly. "I get that. But you could’ve told me."

"I didn’t know how."

Silence.

The music swelled, filling the space between them.

Drake’s gaze softened. "I missed you, you know."

And just like that, her heart decided to betray her.

She bit her lip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Chayara’s chest tightened. This was too much. The slow dance, the vulnerability, the way his eyes held hers like he was searching for something.

She was in trouble.

She took a step back, clearing her throat. "I should...uh...I should check on Queen."

Drake smirked but didn’t stop her. "Go ahead, Chay."

She turned, walking away faster than necessary, her heart doing somersaults in her chest.

She needed air.

She needed space.

She needed to remind herself that this was Drake...the boy she had spent half her teenage years crushing on.

And now?

Now he was back.