"Hey guys." Tanya sits down next to Edward.

"Recovered from Friday?" She asks me.

"Not even a little bit." And although I'm answering her question, I'm talking to Edward.

I'm telling him that I have in no way recovered from anything that happened on Friday.

And he knows, because he sighs.

"I'm not surprised," Tanya laughs. "You were fucking wasted. Talking nonsense about people kissing in elevators and public decency."

I look up finally, and meet his eyes.

Mine unfairly accusing, and his knowingly defiant.

We all know I got stupid drunk on Friday night.

But he also knows why.