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“Sure,” I yelled back, checking my other pocket. Ah, there it is. I clicked the lock button to light up the screen. Tonight was Maeve’s bachelorette party, too…which meant that Lena was gonna be entertained by a stripper.
Yuck.
If I was her real boyfriend, I might have actually been a little bothered. But I wasn’t. It was all just a game. My fingers hovered over the message thread to her.
“You want my number or something?” the bartender asked, her voice much closer than before.
I looked up to see her leaning over the counter with four more shots than I’d asked for—but that was fine, since Nel was already downing more. “I don’t get women’s numbers.”
“You taken?” She made a pouty face, her red bottom lip jutting out.
I blinked a couple of times, not sure how to actually fucking answer that. “It’s complicated.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “That doesn’t sound like you’re taken.”
Yeah, but the paparazzi would think I was cheating if I showed any interest in someone else…
And I didn’t like this lady anyway.
“I’m taken,” I finally said. “Let up. My woman can throw a good punch.”
She made a disgusted face and pushed off the counter, fixating her attention elsewhere. I reached for one of the shots. Better to down these, because any others would probably be spit in.
Though I’d still drink them.
“Damn, you are pounding those tonight,” Nel commented. I had almost forgotten that he was still standing next to me.
“Yeah, well, you know what? I deserve it.” I wasn’t even sure what I was saying.
“Who’re you texting?” He pointed to the phone in my hands.
“Fuck knows,” I laughed, even though I knew exactly who it was. My eyes dropped back to the screen as my fingers started typing away.
Are ouy having fUn?
I hit the send button and put it back in my pocket, because I didn’t really care if Lena texted me back. It was just me pretending to be a good boyfriend to her—or whatever.
“We really need to find Tyson and Aaron,” Nel said, his voice more insistent this time. “I’m ready to head to the next place. “This one is too loud.”
“It’s a club. They’re always loud as fuck,” I mumbled, reaching for the last few shots. I couldn’t remember how many I’d ordered or how many she had brought, but I finished them all. No need to leave anything to waste.
Nel eyed me warily as we started through the crowd. It was star-studded, since it was one of the elite VIP places—and we were in the most exclusive part of it. No one ever bothered to document what happened in places like this.
“Are you looking for them?” Nel shouted, elbowing me.
“Uh huh.” I nodded my head—a little too vigorously—and felt like I gave myself whiplash.
Yeah, I’m drunk. I wonder if Lena is drunk?
As best I could, I pushed the thought out of my head. It didn’t fucking matter if Lena was shit-faced. It didn’t matter if she went home with someone.
Well, actually. It did.
She didn’t need to be doing that shit.
Irritation that I didn’t even know I could feel bubbled up, and I wanted to text her, asking her what the hell the rules were while we were doing this fake relationship thing. I didn’t want anyone else touching her.
And it didn’t matter the reason. She was mine for now.
