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A moment, and then:
Holt’s worried about you. So am I.
Screw him. He loved Holt, he did. But the man pressed on his last nerve, and he didn’t give a damn how he felt right now.
I’m fine. And don’t get me started on Holt.
He loves you.
Steven snorted. He has a stupid way of showing it.
Is Lauren with you?
He gripped the phone tighter. No.
Steve…
Picking up his drink, he frowned at it. He didn’t drink it, though.
No. I’m not discussing it with you.
Funny, you didn’t listen when I told you the same thing with Holt.
He swallowed and set it down untouched. I can’t.
Want to come stay with us?
He tugged on his tie and sighed. No. I’m fine.
That’s the one word that never actually means its meaning.
It was true, and he wasn’t. I’ll be fine. I just need time.
I’m here if you need me.
He set his phone down and picked up his drink again. His phone buzzed again, but he didn’t look. Didn’t want to talk to anyone or anything—
“You look like you could use some company,” some brunette said, sitting down beside him. “Are you all right?”
He didn’t want company. And he wasn’t all right. But she didn’t look the type to get the message. He set down his still full glass for the second time. “No. I’m not in a good mood.”
“That’s okay. Neither am I. What’s your story?”
He spun his drink in a loose circle, shrugged, and didn’t pick it up. “My girlfriend broke my heart today.”
“Same here,” the brunette chick said. “And she walked away afterward.”
Ah. So she wasn’t going to expect him to go home with her. Good. Steven glared down at his phone. Lauren had texted him. “I’m the one who walked away.”
“How did that make you feel?” the woman asked, resting her hand on his arm.
He pushed his full glass away. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want to drink himself into oblivion. The pain was his, and Lauren’s, and he needed to feel it. Just like she was.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Chapter Seventeen
Three nights.
