King:
Thinking about you.
King:
Sleep well, beautiful.
Beautiful. The same word Declan used when making me fall apart.
Guilt crashes over me in waves. I'm betraying them both; Declan by still wanting King, King by falling for Declan. Neither of them deserves this divided heart.
The phone buzzes. This time it's Declan.
Declan:
Woke up alone. Not gonna lie, that hurt. But I understand if tonight was too much. Take the time you need. I'm here when you're ready.
The message is understanding and patient.
I don't respond to either of them.
Instead, I sit on Sloane's couch as dawn breaks over the city, trying to figure out how I became the kind of person who can break two hearts while trying desperately not to break her own.
***
My phone rings, shattering the silence.
Declan's name flashes on the screen. For a moment, I consider letting it go to voicemail so I can buy myself more time to figure out what the hell I'm doing. But my traitorous hand reaches for it anyway and puts it on speaker.
"Hello."
"Ivy."
His voice is rough, strained. Background noise filters through: classical music, polite conversation, the clinking of champagne glasses.
"I need you to get me out of here."
My heart kicks against my ribs. "What? Where are you? Are you okay?"
I hear someone greeting him in the background. His response is polite and cultured, nothing like the Declan I know.
"I'm physically fine. It's just that I'm at a museum gala. Senator Ashford's senatorial campaign event."
Ice floods my veins.
Senator Ashford. Isn’t that the father of his date at the charity gala? If Senator Ashford is at the occasion, Evangeline is there with Declan.
Jealousy slams into me.
Images flash through my mind: Evangeline in that silver dress, beautiful and polished, her hand on Declan's arm. Declan smiling at her the way he smiled at me hours ago. Declan kissing her the way he kissed me.
Of course, he would. If he's with Evangeline mere hours after making me scream his name with his touch, everything we did meant nothing to him. It was just a game to see me writhing under him, wanting him.
"Ivy? You still there?"
"I'm here." My voice comes out flat. "You're at a gala with Evangeline."
"It's not what... Gregory set this up. I didn't have a choice."
