“Telling you guys was so hard,” Claire admits, “I was so scared to tell you the whole truth, but I don’t think it’ll matter to her what really happened. To her, she was the second choice, and no matter how grateful I am that Davis came and helped, I wish he hadn’t.”
“Don’t,” I tell her, “don’t blame yourself for my choice. You needed me too. It was an impossible situation.”
She throws her hands up, “but none of this would have happened if I was just honest in the first place.”
Steph hugs her, “as much as we want to help, there’s only one person who can fix this. Davis has to do this on his own, he has to prove to her that he’s all in.”
Easier said than done.
My phone call goes straight to voicemail again. It’s like the eighth time I’ve tried calling her in two days, and not a single time have I been able to get through.
I have fucking championships tomorrow, but instead of being in bed, preparing for the biggest game of my life… I’m out at a bar.
Steph texted me an hour ago saying she saw Sasha at the club. Apparently, she’s hammered.
“She’s been alone all night,” Steph tells me when I get out of my car. “I tried to get her to come home with me but she won’t listen, I didn’t know what else to do.”
I put a hand on her shoulder, “it’s okay. I’ll figure it out, go have fun.”
She smiles appreciatively and then runs off with her friends from the diner.
I give my ID to the bouncer, and when I walk in, I realize just how hard finding her is going to be. This place is fucking packed.
There’s people everywhere, dancing on one another, drinking, having fun with their friends… and I wonder why Sasha would come here. It doesn’t really feel like her scene, I don’t think there’s ever been a time when she’s wanted to be out at a bar, let alone without anyone there with her.
She almost never drinks, so hearing she’s drunk puts me on edge.
She’s alone and drunk. That’s never a good combination.
It takes me almost half an hour of pushing through the crowd, and I’m just about to give up when I see her.
But she’snotalone.
She’s dancing with someone, a fucking guy.
He’s touching her. He’s touchingmyLittle Pixie,mygirl.
Sasha sways her hips, eyes closed and head tilted back so it’s resting on his chest. She’s completely unaware of how beautiful she looks right now, as always. Tight black jeans hug her curves, and even though I can’t see her ass because it’s pressed against the jackass behind her, I know it looks fucking amazing right now. Her sheer black t-shirt leaves little to the imagination, her tattoos and black bralette on full display.
The same tattoos I used to trace, the same tattoos she refused to tell me about.
My cock grows stiff at the sight of her tight nipples, barely visible, but every once in a while, the light catches just right and I can see their outline.
The guy behind her has one hand on her hip, and the other caressing down her body. He’s enjoying this too much, holding her too closely, touching what isn’t fucking his.
I’m going to cut his fucking hands off.
Some may call me an asshole for thinking she can’t see another man, we are broken up after all, but the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her drives me wild.
I drive myself crazy at the thought of how many guys have seen her naked since she’s been with me, how many guys have heard her moans and seen her eyes roll to the back of her head when you hit that sweet spot inside of her. Any time I picture it happening, I also picture the twisted smile on my face while I beat the everliving fuck out of the guy who was stupid enough to try anything with what’s mine.
It doesn’t take me long to storm up to them, finally grabbing her wrist and tearing her away from the attempted replacement.
“Johnny, what-“ she squeaks, eyes wide as she looks me up and down.
I toss her over my shoulder, not bothering with an answer because I know whatever comes out of my mouth next will be nothing but incoherent garbage. The music is too loud, we can’t have a fucking conversation in here.
The guy grabs my arm, yanking me backwards so hard I almost fall. “What the fuck are you doing man?” He yells at me.
