“I thought I might find you here.”
When I hear her, I don’t even turn around. Lifting my drink, I drain it in a few hard gulps before I set it down. “Go away, Paige.”
“You didn’t answer my text…” Sliding into the empty seat next to me, she laughs like I never said a word. “Did you even read it?”
Letting out a long slow breath, I remind myself that this isn’t like when Millie and I got into it at her rehearsal dinner. Paige and I aren’t alone. There are other people in here. People who would see me lose my temper and automatically assume that I’m the problem. They’d hear me yell at her, spewing allthe hateful shit that’s been building in me for years and see me as the aggressor. The cops would get called. I’d go to jail and all I’d accomplish is adding another nail to my coffin where Millie is concerned.
“No.” Signaling the bartender for another, I shake my head. “I don’t care enough about you to even bother.”
“Ouch…” She laughs again. “Come on, Mercer,” she says playfully. “Don’t be a spoiled sport.”
Focusing on the bartender, I watch while he pours me another double. Doing a quick assessment of the situation he divides a look between the two of us. A look that tells me he sees where this is headed and he doesn’t want it in his bar. “I’ll add the final charge to your room,” he says firmly.
In other words—drink up and get the fuck out.
“Thanks.” Even though I want to argue, I don’t. He’s just doing his job. I wouldn’t want to deal with this bullshit either. Picking up my refill, I take a drink. “Add two hundred percent to it for yourself.”
Because fuck Conner Gilroy.
I hope that meddling psychopath sees the itemized charges on the hotel bill and shits himself.
And fuck me while I’m at it for even thinking for a single goddamned second that I ever stood a chance.
The bartender’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. “Thank you, sir.” Flicking a hard look in Paige’s direction, he looks like he wants to say something but in the end, he does the smart thing and makes himself scarce.
Leaning into me, Paige drops her hand on my leg. “You aren’t even a little bit curious about what it says?” She purrs in my ear.
“I’m really fucking not,” I tell her, my tone flat and even. Loud enough that it draws a few looks. “And I’d appreciate it if you stopped touching me.”
“Well then, I’ll just have to tell you…” Not listening to a word I said, Paige trails her hand up the length of my thigh. “Millie is never going to forgive either one of us but I’ve got my uncle wrapped around my little finger. Pretty soon, it’ll be like this never happened—tonight pretty much proved it. We can go back to the way things were, Mercer. You and me… we can even make it exclusive if you want.”
“Right.” Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “Until Millie meets someone else.” Just the thought of it makes it hard to breathe but it’ll happen. Eventually Millie will move on. She’ll find someone and Paige will be there, waiting to snatch it all away from her and she doesn’t even bother to deny it.
“Think about it. You know I’m the closest you’re ever going to get to her…” Pushing her hand even higher, she wraps it around my cock. “Come on, Mercer. Let’s go upstairs and?—”
“It’s not gonna work,” I tell her, lifting my glass to take another drink. “Millie’s not here.” Laughing a little, I set my glass down before turning my head to look at her. “Matter of fact, I sincerely doubt it’s ever going to work again.”
She’s either delusional or just fucking stupid because she keeps at it. “And why’s that?” she asks, still smiling. Still stroking my limp cock.
“Because I’ve had the real thing,” I tell her honestly, looking her right in the eye. “I’ve hadher. Felt her close around me while she comes and there’s no comparison. You’re not her.You’ll never be her, so no matter how hard I close my eyes or how many times I call you by her name, fucking you will never even come close.” Turning away from her, I lift my glass again, this time emptying it. Setting it down, I shake my head. “Now, for the last and final time—get your hand off my dick.”Pushing her hand away, as carefully as possible, I stand before she can reattach it. “You and I are over, Paige. I need you to get that through your crazy, fucked-up skull—we’re over.”
“You don’t mean that.” Tears spilling down her cheeks, she shakes her head. “Don’t leave me,” she pleads, acutely aware that we’ve drawn an audience. Doing everything she can to salvage the situation, to spin herself into the victim, she reaches for my hand. “Please, just?—”
“We’re over,” I tell her again. Pulling my hand away before she can grab it, I lift my suit jacket from the back of my seat. “We were over the second Millie asked me to run away with her—and there’s no going back. Not for me.”
“You’ll regret it,” she tells me, still crying, still putting on a show but her tone has gone hard. Bitter. “You’re going to realize what a mistake you’ve made and you’re going to come crawling back and when you do, I?—”
“There’s only one woman I’d crawl for,” I say, looking down at her while pulling on my jacket. “Her last name might be Blackwell but she sure as fuck isn’t you.” Turning away from her, I look at the bartender. “Have a bottle of Jameson sent up to my room—I have a feeling those minibar bottles aren’t gonna cut it.”
“Yeah,” scoffing quietly, he slides Paige a quick look before giving me a quick nod. “Sure thing—on the house.”
“Nah,” I shake my head on my way to the door, leaving behind a seething Paige and a bar full of stunned, silent spectators. “Matter of fact—charge that asshole double.”
FIFTY-FOUR
I’m not sure what I expected when I stepped offtheelevator onto the floor Conner Gilroy and his family had commandeered for the night but it’s blissfully quiet. Other than several room service carts littering the hall, piled high with half-eaten cheese burgers and plates smeared with chocolate frosting, it’s almost as if I have the floor to myself.
My stomach rumbles, the sound of it telling me I probably should’ve eaten more than a few hors d’oeuvres, snagged from the trays being passed around during cocktail hour. Deciding I’m too tired and that I probably won’t starve to death in my sleep, I decide to take the easy way out. No food. I’ll worry about that tomorrow.
