“We won’t. Next time, you’ll be sober and begging for my touch.”
Butterflies start to buzz around my stomach at his words. Or maybe it’s the liquor still sloshing around, waiting for its perfect moment to remind me of all the ways I fucked up. I swallow down every bit of lust this man fuels in me and lift my chin, ever defiant.
He leans forward like he’s about to kiss me. I hold my breath, wanting him to both do it and not at all at the same time.
I pull away, moving quickly toward the door, and I glance over my shoulder. “Forget I exist.”
“We’re not done,bella,” he tells me as the door closes.
4
Daphne
Michelle callsas I’m trying to pull myself together and somehow make myself presentable for the family luncheon at the bar.
“Whore, where did you disappear to last night?” she asks, because Michelle’s nosy as fuck.
“I didn’t feel well, so I went to bed early.”
“I knocked on your hotel room this morning, but you didn’t answer.”
She’s fishing, but I’m not biting.
“I passed out and didn’t hear you.”
“Let me walk down there now.”
“No!” My voice comes out much louder than I intend. I know I have to cover my tracks and quick. “I already left. I wanted to shower at home before heading to the bar.”
There’s a pause, and I know she’s about to call bullshit. “Hmm,” Michelle grunts. “I could’ve sworn I saw you leave with that guy from last night.”
I drop my head forward, wishing she would’ve just come out and said something to begin with. “You’re an asshole.”
She laughs on the other end of the phone. “I wanted to see what cockamamie story you’d come up with.”
“I was so freaking drunk. Why did you let me leave with him?”
“I tried to stop you. I called your name, but you seemed oblivious to everything and everyone except for him.”
“What a fucking disaster.”
“Well, we’ve all been there. It’s done now. Move on.”
“Michelle, that’s the thing.” I stare into the mirror, giving myself the look my mother used to give me when she was disappointed in my behavior. “You know who he is, right?”
“The hot guy?” She pauses for a second. “Nope.”
“Leo Conti.”
She gasps. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Yep.”
“Stop fucking lying to me.”
“It’s true. God, I wish I were lying,” I groan.
“You seriously fucked Mario Conti’s kid?”
