Mary-Jane, Kaya, and I enter Rave at ten in the evening. The latter called to invite me out at the last minute, but with no other plans, I took her up on the offer.
I can’t remember the last time I went out with the girls. Most of my time recently was spent with Logan, and while I wouldn’t change that, my anxiety grows tenfold with every day of silence on his part. It’s been three days since he locked me in the garage, and other than the half-assed apology in the middle of the night, I’ve not heard from him.
He didn’t come over to fuck.
I shouldn’t have made him feel bad about locking me up. He wasn’t thinking… he panicked.
I hate that I’m making excuses for the jerk, but more than that, I hate that he’s not been around. I miss him. I don’t want us to end… but deep down, I know he’s done with me.
Still, I cling to the excuses. Maybe he’s busy? Or not in the mood for sex? Maybe he had a family emergency?
No, you idiot. You’re over.
God, why does it hurt so much?
Kaya elbows my side, strolling past me, dressed to impress in a tempting number covered in silver sequins that reflect the strobe lights, changing colors like a kaleidoscope and catching the attention of most men within eyesight.
It’s not sequins that grab their eyes. It’s the narrow, low-cut cleavage that reaches her belly button and no bra on her impressive implants.
“Drinks first!” she yells, aiming for the bar. “What are we drinking tonight?”
I lean over the counter so the bartender will hear me over the roaring music blasting from the speakers around the club. “Kiwi daiquiri, please.”
Kaya scrunches her nose before placing her usual order—a bottle of bubbly. I used to do the same, but now that I own a business and watched my best friend spiral into alcohol addiction, I cut back my intake.
I check my phone while we wait, hoping to see a text from Logan, but no notifications are on the screen.
“I’ll wait upstairs,” I tell Kaya when she eyes a guy standing beside her. She’ll end up making out with him in less than a minute, and I don’t want to watch her cheating on her husband.
With a drink in hand, I head to the staircase on the other side of the room but don’t make it halfway there before I freeze mid-step, my pulse roaring in my ears.
Logan stands no more than ten feet away, dressed as usual in a jersey and jeans, a baseball cap hiding his dark hair. My stomach drops, and bile climbs to my throat.
He’s kissing some girl.
Their lips work in breathless sync, his hands groping her ass, barely covered by the tight bodycon dress she wears. She sways to the music, weaving her fingers through his hair and pressing herself closer to the man I love.
I don’t know what kills me more, that he’s touching her or that he’s doing it in public. A high-pitched ringing starts in my ears. The world slowly splinters apart around me as I watch, unable to tear my gaze from them. He’s kissing her in the middle of the club for anyone to see.
She’s not a secret.
He’s not ashamed of her…
Tears prickle my eyes when the brunette smiles against his lips, her cheeks pink, a drunken, blissful look on her pretty face. She winks and spins around, pressing her ass to his crotch, grinding as if Logan’s her pole.
He holds her in the straitjacket of his arms, supporting her bouncing boobs as he dips his head, biting her ear.
Kaya stops beside me, following my line of sight. A hot glow of anger works its way up to her face before she rolls her eyes at me. “Jeez, still not over the idiot? Give up already, Cass. It’s been three years.”
It’s been three days, but Kaya doesn’t know that. She only knows about the one night we spent together. Back then, she was a different person. Caring, loving. When I called her, bawling my eyes out, she burned through the city and knocked on my door twenty minutes later, armed with ice cream and wine.
She glances around, scanning the dancefloor to check how many more Hayes lurk in the darkness. Nico is undoubtedly here somewhere. He and Logan grew closer since Theo got married, and they rarely go out separately.
It’s pathetic that I know this. He never told me. I simply pay attention to his life, scavenging for scraps of information.
The brunette in Logan’s arms spins around again, her small hand sliding down his chest to cup the inseam of his jeans. A hot ball of jealousy, hurt, and disappointment burns behind my ribs. The way his eyes hood over rips me wide open.
More tears well in my eyes, but I swallow hard, snapping a mask of indifference in place just as Logan turns our way as if he can feel my eyes burning holes in his head. We lock eyes across the dancefloor and the utter lack of emotion on his face freezes the blood in my veins.
He steps away from the girl, but he’s not fazed by my presence, not ashamed of his actions, not mortified by being caught.
I grit my teeth, fighting not to let Kaya or Mary-Jane see how distraught I am inside and not to give Logan the satisfaction of crying right in the middle of the dancefloor.
I knew it was just sex, even if I let myself hope for more, time and time again, but I thought we were exclusive. He was in my bed every other day, but apparently, that’s not enough, and he needs another girl to fill in the gaps. How many more has he slept with since we started hooking up?
Oh, God… I fucking trusted him not to use a condom!
“Come on,” Kaya yells over the blazing music, her tone annoyed as she hooks her elbow with mine. “We have a booth reserved upstairs.”
“You want to stay?” That’s the last thing on my to-do list right now. “I’m sure Nico is upstairs.” Please, let’s leave.
She drapes her long hair over one shoulder, pushing her chin higher. “So what? He can leave if he doesn’t want to see me, but I’m not moving. I like it here.”
I’m not falling for that. Kaya’s been seeking Nico out since a week after her wedding. She’s honestly delusional, but she’s hoping he’ll give her another chance.
Why marry Jared if he’s not the guy she wants? Why sleep around with half of Newport instead of earning Nico’s trust back and begging for forgiveness? Maybe I’m dumb, but I can’t wrap my head around her choices.
I want to turn around and run with my tail between my legs, but before I can come up with a believable excuse to feed Kaya, I think better of it.
I’m not giving Logan the satisfaction.
Kaya and I ascend the staircase leading to the upstairs bar and get into the booth that happens to be directly opposite where Nico sits with Toby. Neither spares us a glance, but the way Nico’s jaw works in tight, furious circles, I know he noticed Kaya sauntering over here as if she owns the place.
“What the hell is that?” she snaps, scrunching her cute-as-a-button nose at the kiwi daiquiri in my hand. “You’re supposed to get drunk, not fit, bitch. I’m getting us shots.”
She heard me order the drink at the bar and saw the bartender hand it over. The only reason she’s making a problem now is to have an excuse to get up and walk past Nico’s booth again, swaying her hips left and right.
Not that he cares. His eyes don’t move from the screen of his phone. Kaya won’t admit it aloud, but she’d turn back time if she could and never cheat on him.
I’m pretty sure she’d get sober for him, too, but it’s too late, so she continues to party like she’s sixteen.
“Jared would lose his fucking mind if he knew Nico’s here,” Mary-Jane says, plopping down beside me. “Should we tell him? He’s an ass, but—”
He is an ass, and there is no but to follow. “Do what you want, MJ. I really don’t care.”
She pulls a face, crossing her arms. “Alright, spill it. I’m sick and tired of your attitude. You’ve been happy and sad, and everything in between on repeat for weeks. What’s going on?”
“I’m fine. Just tired of Kaya’s bullshit.” That’s not a lie, but not the truth Mary-Jane wants. I can’t tell a living soul about Logan and me, regardless of how hurt and pissed off I am.
“Yeah, right. You’ve been putting up with her bullshit for years, babe, don’t tell me you only now realized she’s a piece of work. I know something’s wrong. Who will you tell if not me? Is it a guy?”
I down half of the daiquiri and sit straight even though I want to crawl under a bed and hide like I used to when I was younger. It didn’t keep Zack away then, so it sure won’t help my bleeding heart now.
“An asshole, not a guy. It doesn’t matter. It’s over. It never really began, so… yeah.” I glance around to check Kaya’s location. She is my friend for all intents and purposes, but she’s the last person I want to know about my mystery non-man. “Don’t mention it to Kaya. I don’t want to spend the rest of the night dodging her nosy questions.”
MJ pulls her lips in a thin line. I think she’s hurt that I didn’t confide in her, but she must sense my foul mood and decides not to push for answers.
Thank God. Just thinking about Logan rips me to shreds and boils my blood at the same time.
“You know what you need?” She playfully pushes me away. “Rebound guy. A hot mudstuffin to help you forget about…” she pauses, leaning closer, eyes big and round, then sighs when I don’t fall for the trap. “Trust me. A good orgasm is what you need.”
That’s not what I need. It’s not like there’s another man in Newport as skilled as Logan. Not possible. Men like him come once in a lifetime and ruin you for whoever takes their place until the end of time.
Cuddling is what I need.
Netflix, a bottle of wine, a fluffy blanket, and a warm chest to press my cheek against. Someone to play with my hair while we watch a movie. Someone to stay the night, kiss my head, and whisper the three words I’m yet to hear anyone say to me.
Twenty-five years old, and I’ve never heard I love you. Not once. Not from my parents, foster families, not from my friends. What a sad, sad life.
I don’t tell Mary-Jane any of that because, in my peripheral vision, I catch a glimpse of Logan sliding into the booth occupied by his younger brother.
He’s not alone.
The brunette sits beside him, sipping from a tall glass, long fingers scraping the nape of his neck.
“I think you’re right,” I tell MJ, forcing a smile onto my lips. “I need a guy.”
If Logan can parade his newest hookup in front of me, I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine.
As if on cue, Kaya arrives, armed with four men. One carries a tray with at least twenty shots, and the other three place bottles of prosecco and six glasses on the table. She’s married but has no problem fucking a stranger in the men’s room.
If Jared doesn’t know about his wife’s antics, then he must be the most gullible person to walk this Earth.
“This is Mary-Jane and Cassidy,” Kaya introduces us when the four of them force me and MJ to scoot over.
I end up facing the booth occupied by Logan and his new toy. He’s not touching her but does nothing to stop her from touching him. I make a mental note not to glance in their direction. Instead, I focus on the guy on my right. He’s got a piercing in his lower lip and a set of deep, stormy-blue eyes.
“Cheers,” Kaya beams, grabbing a shot and urging us to follow. “Here’s to those who wish us well…”
“All the rest can go to hell!” Mary-Jane and I finish in sync.
I’m not a fan of vodka, especially when paired with other alcohol, but tonight I’m throwing inhibitions and reason out the window, ready to face the consequences in the morning.
And those will be severe if the last time I drank vodka is any indication of what I can expect.
“Come on, you need something less alcoholic to wash the vodka down,” Rush, the guy beside me, says in my ear, pointing toward the bar.
Normally, I’d say no, but A: I want to kick Logan where it hurts, and B: I spotted a familiar face at the bar and want to say hi. I nudge Mary-Jane so she and her friend for the night move to let us out of the booth. She texted me the day after she ditched me for Adrian outside Q that he’s an asshole and not worth her time. Love didn’t last long.
My eyes are on Rush’s lips to ensure I don’t look past him at Logan. We rest against the bar to the left of the balcony, and Rush calls the bartender over while I scan the crowd, looking for a head of dark blonde hair.
She was just here. Where did she go?
“What are you having?” Rush asks.
“According to you, something non-alcoholic. Coke.”
He bobs his head, leaning over the counter to place the order. I can’t unglue my eyes from his piercing moving as he speaks. There’s a kind of odd sensuality about his lip with the silver ring in it. I wonder what it would feel like pressed against my lips… or my clit.
“You’re staring, Cass,” he says in my ear, then moves his hands to grip the counter on both sides of my body, leaning over my back. “At my lips.”
“You play with the piercing. It draws attention.”
He smiles against my neck, the metal ring grazing a sensitive spot below my ear. I really want to feel it dig into my lips.
No. You want to get back at Logan.
True. And it’s not fair to Rush. Or Logan, for that matter. He’s not mine. Never was and never will be. He didn’t promise me a relationship or a set time frame for our sexcapades. Besides, if I’m being honest, I know Logan doesn’t care that Rush is invading my space.
I shouldn’t feel bad about flirting. I should cut the misery short and use the handsome stranger as an ad-hoc anesthetic. I spin on my heel, and words catch in my throat when he scrapes the lip ring with his white teeth.
“Stop staring,” he rasps. “You make it damn near impossible not to kiss you when you look at me like that.”
My sadistic mind pushes the image of Logan kissing the brunette to the front as if to fuel my anger and force my hand.
Kiss Rush to get back at Logan.
The problem remains—Logan won’t care. I’m not important enough. I’m a warm, wet hole he can stick his dick in whenever he feels like it. A living, breathing blow-up doll.
“Are you afraid I’ll bite?” I tease.
It doesn’t come out flirty. No wonder. I don’t feel like flirting with the guy. I’d much rather be at home, crying into my pillow until I cry Logan out of my system.
Rush smirks. “I hope you’ll bite, babe, but I’ll torture myself a little while longer.”
Babe. One word with a hidden meaning when coming from a guy you meet at the club. Loosely translates to: I just want to fuck you real quick, so don’t get your hopes up.
The bartender sets a glass of coke and two shots on the counter. We down them in sync, and I grab Rush’s hand. “Come on. Dance with me. I’ll stare at your lips for a very inappropriate amount of time.” My head is spinning just a little, and it looks like three shots in twenty minutes make me courageous.
Rush places his hand on the small of my back as we forge a path through the crowd. “We’ll see how long it takes before I snap.”
Strobe lights jump across the room, and I let my eyes follow them for a moment, the everchanging colors captivating as we take the staircase to the dancefloor.
“Safari” by J. Blavin booms around us, the place packed beyond capacity. Rush doesn’t need space. He pulls me into his arms until I press my back flat to his chest.
I don’t feel the music tonight, but it’s hardly the DJ’s fault. It’s mine. I can’t get into the groove, and not even three songs later, we’re back upstairs.
This time, I fail to keep my eyes from wandering to Logan. The brunette is no longer there, replaced by two others, one of which I know. She looks at me, a big smile stretching her lips.
“Cass! Hey, girl!” Aisha jumps out of the booth, wrapping her arms around me. “How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you?”
She shoots me a knowing look, grips my hand, and drags me away, back toward the bar. “Please tell me Nico’s not taken,” she squeals in my ear, then backs away, stealing glances at their table. “He’s so fucking hot!”
“Nico?” My eyebrows pull together. I mean, he’s good-looking, but he’s not a guy most women willingly approach. On the other hand, Aisha’s as spirited as they come, so I doubt she’s afraid of him. “Um, no, he’s not taken, but—”
“Good. He’s mine tonight.” She casts another look his way, seductively biting her lower lip. “He’ll be my new muse.”
“He’s not into blondes, Aisha, and besides, he’s very…” I trail off, unsure how to put Nico into words.
“Broody?” she supplies with an ever-growing smile. “Sexy? Arrogant? I know! That’s why I like him. And believe me, tonight, he’ll be all about blondes. One in particular.” She winks, leaning in to peck my cheek. “Me.”
Who am I to say no? Maybe Aisha has a way of making men fall at her feet. “Have fun. Oh, and do me a favor, don’t mention to Nico that Logan was posing for your cover, okay?”
She props her elbows on the bar, signaling the bartender. “Why? Is he shy?” She chuckles, but then her eyes grow wider. “Shit, are you two a thing or something? Secret love affair?”
Damn, she’s good. I meant well trying to cover for Logan, but I didn’t take a second to think what kind of questions my statement would prompt. “No,” I laugh it off. “He just wanted to surprise them but didn’t have time yet.”
“Ah, gotcha. Sure, no worries. It’s not like I can seduce the guy by showing him pictures of Logan’s bare chest.”
“What the hell is taking you so long?” Kaya snaps, stopping beside us. “We’re all waiting for you. I want to play a game, and Rush might start oozing sperm from his ears if you don’t get your ass back in there right now.”
Aisha narrows her eyes at Kaya, and Kaya shoots back with the same glare. God, please don’t let Aisha mention Nico.
“We’ll catch up soon, okay?” I tell Aisha before any damage is done. “Call me when you’ve got time for coffee.”
“I will, babe.” She’s talking to me, but she’s looking Kaya over, one eyebrow raised, the gesture laced with mockery. And then, recognition flashes across her face as if she realizes who this beautiful woman beside me is. “Have fun tonight, Cassidy.” Her eyes cut back to Nico for a second. “I sure will.” She turns to place an order with the bartender, but before I take Kaya back to our booth, Aisha grabs my hand. “Nico drinks Corona, right?”
I groan internally. No way Kaya didn’t hear that. And considering how territorial she gets about Nico, especially when she’s had a few drinks, this will not end well.
A few months ago, she slapped a girl about at Tortugo when she saw Nico buy her a drink. The second he left the bar with his friends; she ambushed the girl in the bathroom and tore a handful of her hair out. I wasn’t there that night, but I got a detailed retelling of the events from Amy.
I don’t understand what Kaya’s trying to achieve, acting bat-shit crazy. I also don’t know what that power play on Aisha’s part is about, but I do know I’m the one who has to calm Kaya down before all hell breaks loose.
I don’t get a chance, though.
Kaya’s bright red, nostrils flared. “Nico?” she asks, getting in Aisha’s face. “Sorry to clip your wings, Barbie, but Nico doesn’t fuck blondes.”
“Time to show him what he’s been missing,” Aisha bites back with a sweet smile. “I hear brunettes aren’t doing him any good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Come on,” I clutch Kaya’s arm, holding her back like a dog on a leash. “Nico’s not yours, remember?” I lean closer to speak in her ear. “And if you want him back, you’re not doing yourself any favors right now.”
She clenches her jaw, murderous gaze fixed on Aisha for a few more seconds before my words sink in, and she steps away, ironing her dress with both hands, her chin raised like she’s trying to show off she’s the bigger person.
Hardly.
Without another word, she turns on her heel and marches away. Aisha offers me a small smile before turning to the bar, and I’m left standing there, too tired to ask what she’s playing at.
