Stumbling into the bed to try to fall asleep again, this is the thought that plagues me the most:
I deserve no one because Iamno one.
I have no fucking clue what I was so sad about.
This is great.
I haven't stopped moving in three days other than to sleep.
Drinking, shopping, strip walking, clubbing, after-partying, repeat.
Five days. We've been partying and playing and adventuring for five days.
Fritz is the only person who doesn't seem tired of it at all. Caspian wanted to check out days ago, and Bel wasn't far behind him. I know they just wanted to go home and fuck, which, like, fine, I get it. But they have a literal eternity to do that. And I only have right now.
So Fritz and I have dragged them out even when they've groaned and complained. Fritz understands the need to live in the now and hide from the thoughts that might make themselves known if you stop moving for too long.
Plus, "We're in Las Vegas and its New Years Eve! What else would we do?"
My bestie's man backs me up immediately, dragging the two sourpusses out the door behind us, already having a plan for the night lined up.
It's my last night in town, and I'm just not willing to think about what that means for tomorrow. I can't, or this night will be over too quickly and devolve into a sobbing, drunken slumber party on their ungodly massive couch with a pint of ice cream. But that's not fucking happening. So with all the energy I've got left, I drag my best friend by the hand, shouting, "We've got one more night to fucking rage, so let's go!"
Fritz supplied another limo and I question again what kind of strings someone like him could pull in a city like this. A fucking limo on the craziest night of the year, a stack full of VIP tickets— a literal fucking stack. We had Bel close her eyes and pick one at random, landing us at one of the biggest parties of the New Year with our own VIP table.
All Fritz had to do was make a quick phone call, and we were assured all the space and liquor we could need for a night of debauchery and fun.
One minute, we're standing in their living room, and the next, we're in the limo, already pouring drinks. The moment of clarity hits me like a train, and I realize just how desperately I need to slow down. It's too early in the night to be missing time.
I pour some dark liquid, which I think is whiskey, into each of our cups, watching without any thought attached to the action as I swallow mine down and pour another.Wasn't I supposed to be slowing down?Okay. Starting now.
Bel's too-perceptive eyes meet mine, and I subtly nod my head.I'm fineI try to communicate. She knows me well enough to know that I'm not, but at this moment, there's nothing she can do except play pretend with me for a little while longer.
Another fuzzy time jump brings us to the entrance of the club. I may have switched to water for the rest of the drive, but there's no way to be sure now. Something niggles at the edges of my existence, something that belongs but doesn't. I find myself searching for the mystery energy, the whisper of otherness.
My eyes drift to Caspian's, and I remember that day weeks ago when it turned out that he was tailing us and keeping close to Bel. I shake off the discomfort, rationalizing that I must just be feeling the awareness of being close to two demons at all times now. That awareness, the feeling that someone is watching me, is a constant now that they've been around me so much.
The other member of our party grips my arm, fear crawling all over his face, "Isla. Please don't kill me! I swear I didn't invite him." The rest of his pleading disappears into the air around us, that awareness becoming crystal clear as I sense theotherdemon that's unfortunately been a constant pain in my fucking ass lately.
With a nonchalance I don't feel, I ask who he's talking about, keeping up the charade that this prick hasn't taken up residence in my mind for the last week. Longer, if I'm being honest with myself. Which I'm absolutely fucking not because if I was, I would have much bigger problems to face.
That velvet, low voice reaches my ears, the taunt of it something that only exists between the two of us, everyone else wholly oblivious to it. Eamon greets our party, giving Bel a quick hug with a dark drink already in his hand, acting like he has any right to crash what is supposed to be a fun night.
His laughter and fun-loving energy make me want to throttle him. How fucking dare he come in here and ruin my nightagain.While Caspian and Fritz's energy is uncomfortable, his is suffocating. I can't breathe when he's near, like he sucks all the oxygen out of the room.
As if he can hear the curses I'm mentally throwing his way, his sparkling green eyes meet mine, and his lips lift in a smirk. But I'm not willing to lose to his stupid games. Not with the coat, not with the endless smiles, not with the mystery gift that I have yet to open, and certainly not on New Years fucking Eve in Las fucking Vegas.
With all the grace I can manage, I take the only open seat on our couch, pretending the proximity to the beast of a man doesn't bother me at all. And itdoesn't.
Until it does.
He drapes one of those ridiculously massive arms on the back of the couch behind me, drowning me in the scent of whiskey and leather and something sweet but spicy that's completely unnamable because it doesn't exist anywhere but attached to this monstrous man. I glance at his misplaced arm with disdain, hoping he'll move it before I get caught leaning into it.
Sweet whiskey and mint drift into my face as he speaks, "I've already ordered a bottle of that tequila you like and they're bringing some bourbon, too."
I focus all of my attention on my nails, examining each chip and sheer spot so I don't look at all at the man beside me and the thick, muscular thigh that gently drifts and grazes mine, sending sparks of desire through my lower belly, heating my body.
I don't want to sleep with him.
