Glancing toward the parking lot, I see him with the rest of the jerks. For whatever stupid reason, I feel betrayed. He doesn’t really like those guys. Never felt as if he fit in—he admitted that to me during our one week together.
So what’s he doing? Why is he with them? I watch in disbelief as he climbs into the car of one of the other guys, leaving his truck in the parking lot. He’s actually…going with them. I’m stunned.
Irritated.
Without thought I stalk back into the restaurant, seeking out Colin. I find him in the front, at the hostess station, and I go to him, tapping him on the shoulder so he turns around to face me.
“The problem’s been taken care of,” I say with more finality than I actually feel. I’m lying to Colin since I didn’t talk to Drew, but I’m not too far off base. No way is Drew coming back here to bug me.
I won’t let him.
“You talked to him.” He raises a skeptical brow.
I nod. “Sure did. Told him not to bother coming back. That we don’t want any trouble.”
Colin is contemplating me. Looking at me like I’m completely full of shit. Which I am. “He comes back here, I’m going to be mad. At you and him.”
“I know.” I swallow hard.
“I don’t like trouble at my restaurant. I don’t like my employees dating each other, and I don’t like jealous boyfriends and girlfriends lingering around, waiting to catch their significant others in a bad position. I’m sick of that crap. You need to walk the straight and narrow, Fable, if you’re going to work here. I know I can’t tell you what to do on your personal time, but your business time? My time? I expect you to adhere to my rules.”
What a drill sergeant. His words and his attitude surprise me. He usually seems so laid back. “I get it. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Colin nods and without another word, leaves me where I’m standing. I can almost guarantee it’s never going to happen again because I’m so pissed at Drew, I don’t want to see him ever again.
He left with those guys. He’s off fucking around and doing whatever crazy, stupid thing a bunch of oversexed, drunken jocks do on a Saturday night. Probably going to drink and flirt and mess around just like all the rest of them.
Tears sting my eyes and I blink them away. I don’t own him. I rejected him outright only moments before. Gave him a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants.
So why am I so upset? Why do I feel like he somehow still belongs to me?
Chapter 6
Don’t give up just because things are hard.
—Fable Maguire
Drew
They brought me to a strip club that’s on the outskirts of town, the building nondescript and small, the sign flashy and bright in the otherwise dark, cold night. Gold Diggers is what the place is called. I’ve heard of it before but have never been there.
Usually I’d protest, bail on them, whatever. But when Jace asked if I wanted to ride with him here, I readily agreed. Didn’t help that I was still blown away by what Fable’s fucking boss said to me.
Her boss. She’s messing around with her boss. I can’t believe it. The devastation that still lingers within me is strong. Like bring-me-to-my-knees powerful. I don’t know what to think. Ican’tthink. It hurts too damn much.
So I left. Running away from my problems as per my usual mode. Funny thing is, this time I’ve surrounded myself with other people. Guys I know and would like to consider my friends. I wonder if my shrink would be proud of me for at least this part of my denial.
I’m definitely a little drunker than I was when we first arrived, and I’m still angry—at Ty for insulting Fable. At Fable for pushing me away. I can’t win. Avoiding her led me straight to her. It was inevitable that we’d see each other again. But how could I have prepared myself for the shock of seeing her there, looking so beautiful? It made me so angry, believing she’s still mine when she’s already moved on.
Pain lances through me and I let it, soaking the near physical emotion the same way my body is soaking up the alcohol. I hate letting my emotions control me so completely. I’m usually numb to this sort of thing. Enduring what I went through in my past made it easy for me to throw up barriers and pretend everything was fine—or more like nothing mattered.
Shematters, though. Or at least, she did.
So I’m sulking like a baby as I watch half-naked women gyrate on a stage, their bodies on blatant display, their expressions bored, looking like they’ve done this sort of thing a million times and they hate it, which they probably do. The club is packed, we’re probably the youngest guys there, and the beer is flowing.
Straight down my throat, as fast as I can drink it.
“Having fun?” Logan nudges me, the leer on his face wobbly. He’s drunker than I am—fitting, since he’s the one we’re celebrating. May as well get shitfaced like him, right? I’ve got nothing to lose and nothing but sorrows to drown.
