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“Man, you spoke to Shane. Holy shit. He’s an amazing drummer, the best actually.”
“That might be, but he’s a dick, and I may very well bury him ten feet under the fucking ground if he goes near her again.” Barry shakes his head. “You can’t kill the drummer,” Barry says, making me turn to face him.
“So, you want to fuck my wife as well?” I ask.
“What?” He looks at me, puzzled. “I mean, if she’s offering.”
I shake my head when he laughs.
“Shane wants to fuck your wife. Well shit! Shane usually gets what he wants.”
We both turn to look at her and watch as she checks around and then she spots Shane. Her smile is back in place, and we watch as he winks at her.
“You’re fucked. I’m not even gay, and I would fuck Shane.” Barry laughs.
“That shit’s not helping, maybe I’ll break his legs tonight so he will stop eye fucking her.”
“What do you mean, you idiot. You moved on. You said you didn’t want her. That’s why you haven’t seen her for well over a month, right? Clean break. That’s what you said.” He repeats my words right back to me.
“Maybe I was out of line.”
“No. No way. Leave her be, man. You’ve already fucked with her enough.”
He’s right, but my head is telling me to take her. I want her, there’s no denying that fact at all.
“No can do.” Walking back over, her eyes fall to mine, and she looks away. She’s been caught, and she knows it. Looking his way, I see Shane watching us.
I place my hand on her back again as I lean down to whisper in her ear. “We can fuck, and I’ll make you forget all about him. After, I’ll go and break his legs.”
Oh, my god. The look to kill. The pure venom, it’s leaching out of her. She wants to swear at me, I know she does. Actually, I think if that perfectly perfect persona wasn’t firmly in place she would reach out and head-butt me into the middle of next week.
But her father speaks, “Whiskey, so good to see you. Let me introduce you to some friends.” Her father waves at me to follow.
Lottie doesn’t look my way when I leave her again.
CHAPTER 25
LOTTIE
“So, he’s possessive of you,” Shane says, coming up behind me.
Somehow, I managed to escape after listening to my mother talk dresses for the last ten minutes and driving me crazy with her designer bullshit. Whiskey is off frolicking with the rich, which I guess is what he does. But I have felt his eyes on me the whole time. Even when he thought I didn’t notice.
“Who?” I ask, turning as Shane pulls a cigarette out from behind his ear and leans on the balcony. I stay near the door but still outside, too afraid to look over, but needing the fresh air and the escape. “Did you follow me out here?” I ask him, smiling and looking behind me to make sure my husband didn’t see—eww that word “husband” feels bad in my mind. Is that what he is? I guess legally he is.
“I did. And your husband. He hasn’t been able to keep his hands and eyes off you. Tell me, Lottie, do you want him?” I feel my cheeks redden at his words.
“No.” And the minute that leaves my mouth, I cover it with my hands.
He smirks. Lights his cigarette. “I figured as much. There’s tension there. But I don’t know what kind,” he says as if he has it all figured out. “But I can tell he wants you at the very least.”
I shrug because I shouldn’t answer that. I go through waves of wanting and hating Whiskey. Lately, it’s been all about hating. But when I see him, no matter how mad he makes me, I still want him. Why is that?
“Did you keep my number?” I look down at my hand for some reason, knowing it washed off.
“Pass me your phone.”
I do, and he types his number in and smiles when he hands it back to me.
