Freya nodded. “The Russian princess.”
“He was engaged the whole time he was with me.” I’d thought his feelings were genuine. He’d seemed interested in me for more than a hole to wet his dick in.
How could I have read him so wrong?
“The contract was signed years ago. He never had a choice,” she explained.
I guess I should have told her from the start what was going on. She could have saved me a lot of heartache.
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
Freya lifted her glass. “How about drowning your sorrows in vodka, then?”
Picking up my drink, I put it to my mouth and finished it all. “Sounds good.”
An hour later, I was swaying on my stool, watching her make a mojito. There were bits of mint floating on the top, and she’d added too much ice. I was pretty sure she’d used tap water to mix it.
When she pushed the cocktail in front of me, I eyed the murky drink. But I guessed little mint never killed anyone. Already buzzed, I took a hefty gulp before spitting it straight back out. “Holy shit, how much lime juice did you use?”
Freya shook the plastic bottle that had previously held the juice. “The whole bottle?”
She took a sip of her own mojito, shuddering as soon as the liquid touched her lips. “That’s it. We’re going out and getting a proper drink.”
Looking pointedly at my clothes, she raised a brow. “You can borrow a dress and shoes. Gunner is out until late for some super-secret mission he wouldn’t tell me about, so we can sneak out.”
Marching to the back of her apartment, she waved her arms for me to follow. “Come on. No time to waste.”
After stuffing me into a tight black dress that pushed my boobs up to my neck, towering heels, and lending me one of her coats, we were ready to go. Freya was wearing skintightblack jeans and a ripped top. Black boots and a leather jacket completed her outfit.
We took a taxi to a bar a few blocks away. There were people everywhere, the lighting was dim, and it smelled of a myriad of aftershaves and perfumes. We pushed our way through the crowds, finding a table in the back.
And that was where we stayed for the next two hours. Freya let me rant until I ran out of steam. I then moved on to wondering how I didn’t see the signs. The waitress, Bernadette, kept up a steady supply of drinks after I told her why we were there.
Freya raised her glass, liquid sloshing over the side, drenching her hand. “Whoops. Anyway, where was I?” She clinked her glass to mine. “That’s right. My untrustworthy brothers.”
My body was pleasantly numb, and if I didn’t close one eye, there were two Freyas sitting in front of me. “I can’t believe he lied to me.” A tear escaped, but instead of giving in to the urge to dissolve into a crying puddle, I took another hefty sip of my drink.
I didn’t even know what I was putting in my body. All I knew was it numbed the pain and made me nauseous, taking my mind off my torn heart. “I thought he was special,” I continued. “He was everything.”
Freya slapped her hand on the table next to mine, then slapped a little closer before she made it to my hand, holding on. “Did you move your hand?”
Blinking at her, I wondered which one of us was drunker. Gunner would kill me if I returned her like this. She had to sober up. “We should eat something.”
I waved Bernadette down and ordered a pizza, fries, and two pieces of cheesecake. I forgot to get water, but I was sure she’d be back soon.
“We forgot to get new drinks,” Freya slurred, holding her empty glass up to the light. It’d been half full not five minutes ago.
“No more drinks for you.” My words were as slurred as hers.
She giggled. “Your hair is weirdly big. Why is it so big?”
Closing one eye so she came into focus more, I smoothed my curls down. “I didn’t brush it this morning.”
Freya rested her head on the table. “I’m sleepy.”
Bernadette set our food on the table, then two glasses of water. “You guys need anything else?”
I eyed the pizza, my mouth watering. “You are an angel, Bernadette. Thank you.”
