I break off breathing heavy. Will’s eyes are hooded, alive with love for me.
But all I feel is lost and confused and lonely.
And in this exact moment, I realise that I don’t want simple. I want Jake in all his crazy complicatedness.
I do love Will, but I love Jake more.
It’s always been him my whole life. And I don’t want to lose him. He’s my best friend. My everything.
I have to talk to him. I need to tell him that I don’t care about the redhead. I don’t care about any of it. All the mistakes we’ve both made. We can start fresh from now.
I’ll tell Will everything, right now, if that’s what he wants. I’ll do whatever he wants me to do. Because I love him.
Totally and completely love him. I always have. And I can’t imagine another moment in my life with him not in it.
I glance to where Jake was at the bar, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
Where is he?
“I’m tired,” I say to Will. “You mind if we sit?”
I need to find Jake.
“No, come on.” Will puts his arm around my shoulder and steers me back to our table. “We can leave soon if you’d like?”
“Yes, that would be good.”
Where has Jake disappeared to?
Will smiles at me and plants a kiss on my hair.
I know I should feel terrible right now for Will, but I can’t seem to muster any guilt up at all.
All I want is to see Jake.
I sit down in the chair next to Stuart, the others now filled with Simone and Denny.
She looks so totally smitten with him. It warms my heart. I want to be sitting here like that with Jake. The world knowing we belong to one another.
“I’m just going to use the bathroom,” Will says. “Then we can head back if you like?”
“Sure,” I say distracted. I’m just relieved he’s going so I can find Jake.
When Will is gone, I take a surreptitious glance around the room, looking for Jake.
“He’s gone, honey,” Stuart leans across and whispers in my ear. “Dave’s taken him back to the hotel.”
I get this terrible, awful, sick feeling deep in my stomach.
“Did he … go alone?”
Stuart slowly shakes his head, no.
My heart starts to compress in on itself.
I swallow down, my throat tight. “The redhead?” I have to ask, even though I’m pretty sure of the answer.
“Yes.” He gives me a sad look, pats my leg with his hand, and picks up a shot off the table, handing it to me.
“Drink this, sweetheart. It won’t fix things, but after a few of these, things sure do start to seem a lot easier.”
Holding back tears that are burning my throat raw, I take the shot. I put it down in front of me, pick the salt shaker up, pour it on my hand, lick it off and then throw the tequila back without hesitation.
It washes the burning of my tears away, leaving me instead with the welcome burn of alcohol.
I don’t bother with the lemon or beer, inside I chase it down with my margarita, downing it in one.
“You okay, honey?” Simone asks me, giving me a sympathetic smile.
She must know Jake’s gone back to the hotel with Zzhuilette too.
I plaster a bright smile to my face and nod, “Sure I am.”
But I know she knows better. She knows me.
And the alcohol, well that’s just a soother for my heart, which is currently broken and laying shattered in pieces under the heel of a leggy redhead, who is more than likely, right now in bed with my best friend and only true love of my life.
And really, I only have myself to blame.
I hesitated. You can’t hesitate with a man like Jake.
Chapter Twenty
Oh God. I’m so hungover. I actually think I’m dying.
After I found out Jake had left with Zzhuilette the redhead, I set out on a mission to erase the knowledge from my mind – with the obvious help of alcohol. Basically I wanted to get slaughtered and I achieved just that.
By the time Will had got back from the toilets, I was three shots in, and back on the dance floor with Stuart.
I know he knew something was wrong with me. Honestly I think he probably thinks I’m overworked, or have developed a drinking problem from spending too much time with the guys.
Will finally brought me back to the hotel around 12am as I was wasted. I remember him carrying me back to the suite. I think I was singing Mr Brightside at the top of my lungs, and then I spent a long time in the toilet, throwing up.
Poor Will. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He’s kind and sweet. And I’m the devil.
I stretch my stiff body out, groaning, I blink my eyes open.
Will’s sitting in a chair by the bed, eyes on me.
“I got you a coffee.” He hands me over a Starbucks container as I sit up in bed.
“Thank you,” I say gratefully. I lean up against the headboard and take a welcome drink.
“You went out?”
“Just to the Starbucks out by the hotel. I needed the air.”
“Oh. Sorry I got so drunk. Simone? Did she get back okay? Is she on the sofa?”
“She stayed in Denny’s room.”
“Oh,” I say.