But that wasn’t the highlight of my romantic V-day dinner, nooo. The topper was how Clifford forgot his wallet when the bill came. Oh, and what do ya know, so did everyone else. So I bought those free-loading fuckholes dinner.
They all disappeared and left me on my own once we got back to the house. When they reappeared, Clifford had that weird party smell he gets that turns my stomach.
And if I could escape and go home, I would, but ta-da! Guess what? I can’t because I promised Mindy she could have the apartment for the night, and just because my holiday sucks big fat hairy moldy donkey balls doesn’t mean I’m going to ruin hers too.
However, there is a bright side to all this, and that is that Clifford and I are over.
O.
V.
E.
R.
Done.
I will never so much as smile in his direction again.
One more night of torture I can handle. I’ll fake sick, although the way I’ve been feeling lately I may not have to, avoid kissing and sex, and by the time the sun rises in—I check the time—six hours, I will never have to give Clifford a second of my time ever again.
And it’s on that thought that I’m able to tolerate this total disaster of a night.
The same ole screamo is blasting through the speakers, people are chattering obnoxiously, but I’ve erected a sphere of silence all around me. I’m numb to everything, every look, every attempt at conversation, every single fucking thing.
Even now I’m watching as a girl whispers something in Clifford’s ear and he holds her close to him by her hip.
I almost feel sorry for her.
“Take a look over here, sweet cheeks.” I bounce my eyebrows and laugh, not that it matters because no one can hear me over the music anyway. “This’ll be you in three months.”
A dude close to me stares at me like I’ve lost my mind, but I only smile. This is it. I’ve officially lost every single fuck I’ve ever given.
Gotta admit. Feels pretty good.
Grinning like an idiot, I’m a fly on the wall as the party rages on. My feet hurt, but I refuse to go get comfortable in Clifford’s bed. I’m staying right here until the sun breaks and then I’m out.
The front door opens, and all my resolve turns to shit when in walks my salvation.
Killian.
Tears spring to my eyes as anguish and relief strip me of my strength. I open my mouth to call to him, but the words freeze in my throat when his eyes meet mine and scream their apology. Something pulls his attention, and I follow the line of his gaze to the pretty little redhead grinning up at him as if he’s the sun in a winter wasteland.
And then I notice it.
He’s holding her hand.
*
Killian
I knew this was a mistake.
When we pulled up behind Ryder, I almost kept driving, but then I thought why the hell not? I knew Axelle would be here, and fuck if my heart didn’t jump in my chest at the idea of seeing her, but not like this.
She’s surrounded by a sea of people and has never looked more alone. It’s as if she’s invisible to everyone but me. Her face pales, and even with all that black shit around her eyes, I notice them glistening the way they always do when she’s fighting tears.
Fuck. What the hell did Clifford do this time?
I rip my gaze from her and search the dick-lick out only to find him playing quarters with a girl no more than a few yards from where Axelle’s standing. That sorry sack of shi—
“Killian.” Brynn tugs my arm for me to lean down. “Where do you think we’ll find the keg?”
My palm itches pressed to hers, and as much as I want to shake her off, I don’t want to look like an asshole.
I lean in to speak in her ear to be heard over the music. “Outside would be my guess.”
She flutters her eyelashes and grins. “Mind grabbing us a couple of drinks?”
My gaze darts back to Axelle, who hasn’t moved an inch, but is no longer looking my way, her eyes now unfocused on the people in front of her. I squeeze Brynn’s hand before pulling mine free. “Sure. Give me a second?”
Her eyebrows drop in concern before Ryder’s date sidles up beside her. “I need to hit the bathroom, but there’s no way I’m going alone.”
“We’re going to run to the bathroom and meet you back here?” Brynn tilts her head, searching for something in my expression.
“Yeah, meet you back here.”
She pushes up on her toes, headed straight for my mouth.
Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.
Thinking quickly, I dip down and press a chaste kiss to her forehead. She drops back, blinking, then flashes an awkward smile before being dragged off.
Once she disappears into the hallway, I turn toward Axelle, whose gaze darts between me and the floor. I push through the crowd and the makeshift dance floor, until I’m standing toe-to-toe with her.
Her outfit, hair, and makeup are the complete opposite of my date tonight. Whereas Brynn is dressed like a sweet temptation, Axelle’s look is tempting, but more of the deadly variety.
Her eyes snap to mine and tighten into a glare. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s a party, Ax. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
She huffs and studies the beer bottle in her hand. “Perfect. Icing on the shit cake that is my night.”