Wes’s nostrils flared. “You always said winning was everything, so I understand your motivation. We all compete, even if it’s unspoken. But after the time we spent together during my treatments, you were the one who was there the most with me, I thought we were friends, best friends.”
“We are.” The words erupted from Blaise’s mouth.
“Then how does a matchmaker you hired know me better than you do?”
“I…”
“Hadley’s correct. I’m not ready to date. She tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen. You didn’t care.” Wes snatched the phone from Blaise. “Not about me. Or Dash. The only thing that matters to you is winning the bet.”
Guilt coated Blaise’s mouth. Not even the expensive bourbon could wash it away. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?” Wes’s voice was harsh.
“Yes. I only wanted…”To win.“What I want doesn’t matter any longer.”
“You haven’t lost the bet.”
No, but Blaise had lost something else.
He reached for the bottle and refilled the glass.
Wes shook his head. “So that’s how tonight will be? Drink until you puke?”
The less Blaise remembered of today, the better. This time, however, he only sipped from his glass. The liquor had warmed his blood. His buzz was getting stronger. He just needed…more.
Wes sighed. “While your brain is still halfway functioning, tell me who you have on Hadley.”
Blaise blinked. “Huh?”
“Security.”
He glanced at Lex and Rizzo. “No one.”
Wes swore under his breath. “Where is she?”
“Don’t know.” Blaise took another sip. “Don’t care.”
He didn’t want to care. A few more drinks and he wouldn’t.
“Stop being an idiot.” Wes grabbed the glass away from him, splashing bourbon on the table. “You’re not the only one on the video that’s gone viral. You mention her company’s name. You can see her face. A simple search will tell everyone who she is. If the media wants to find her…”
The press might accost her, try to get a sound bite or an interview. Blaise had just seen their kiss. He could almost feel her lips against his. And…
His heart plummeted to his feet.
Anyone seeing Hadley’s face would know she cared about him. Someone out there—someone not so nice like the person who filmed them—could hurt her to get to him.
“I have to find her.” He stood, swayed, fell back against the booth.
“You’re in no shape to go after her.” Wes had every right to laugh at Blaise, but he didn’t. Instead, he motioned to Lex and Rizzo. “Find Hadley and bring her to Blaise. We need to make sure she’s safe.”
“Blaise?” Lex asked.
The club moved like a boat. Maybe he’d drunk too much too fast. Blaise closed his eyes, willing everything to freeze for a minute, including the alcohol wreaking havoc in his bloodstream. “What Wes said.”
“We’ll get you to your hotel first,” Rizzo said.
“I’m…” Blaise wasn’t fine. He was hurting, and all his money couldn’t fix what was wrong. “Go. Now.”
