Nick
Miserable, hurt, and fucking heartbroken. That’s how I’ve spent the last three weeks. Our band is doing a radio tour on the West Coast. It should be weeks of excitement and ecstasy. The album we worked so hard to create is finally completed, and this is our chance to show off years of hard work, but I can’t find the joy in it. I can’t stop thinking about Jenni and our baby. I begged and pleaded on her voicemail every day the past three weeks. I sent her countless text messages as well, but she never responded.
Tonight I’m drowning my sorrows at the hotel bar. There’s a pretty blonde sitting on the barstool next to me. Her super short leather skirt sits high on her thighs, and her silky blouse is struggling to contain her generous breasts. That’s not surprising considering her shirt looks two sizes too small.
“Another?” The blonde leans in so close to my side, her breaths tickle my unshaven jawline, and her erect nipples scrape my arm.
I shake my head before returning my gaze to the nearly empty glass of whiskey in my hand. I swirl the brown drizzle coating the bottom until it matches my swirling stomach. The aroma of expensive whiskey fills my nostrils when I down the leftover liquid in half a swallow.
When I lower my glass to the marble countertop to request another shot, I notice a hotel room key sitting on my coaster. My gaze drifts to the blonde cozying up to my side. She's panting so hard, she's purring. Although she’s a couple of years older than me, she has big breasts and a rocking body that compliments her pretty face.
After rising from her barstool, she puts on her jacket. She gives me a wink that speaks way more than her words ever could before she saunters toward the exit. Just before she disappears from my view, she cranks her neck back to me. The rake of her teeth over her bottom lip signals she wants me to join her. Usually, I'd jump at the chance, but not anymore. No matter how drunk I get, no matter how much I try to forget her, my little firecracker won’t get out of my head.
“No one else,” I murmur to myself.
And there hasn’t been. I haven’t slept with anyone but Jenni since the day we became a couple. Don’t get me wrong; I tried. I came pretty close after I saw her kissing Christian, but I just couldn’t do it. She isitfor me. I'm forever ruined.
With that in mind, I flick the blonde’s room key to the ground. She watches it land a few feet from her hooker heels before her slit eyes lock with mine. She’s stunned as hell that I’ve rejected her.
Over the game, I signal for the bartender to bring me another double of whiskey. As he refills my drink, Slater fills the barstool the blonde just vacated. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
He requests a beer from the bartender before twisting his torso to face me. Even though we’re in a busy inner city bar, buzzing with noise, the silence between us is resounding.
He cracks under the pressure first. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” He scrubs his hand down his face before murmuring, “Fight harder for her.”
I chuckle a menacing laugh. “I have; I’ve done everything I can.”
“No, you haven’t; you’ve sat here moping around for fucking weeks,” he interrupts angrily. “You think it's hard for you? Imagine what it's like for her; she has nothing left.”
“She has nothing left? She ripped out my heart, leaving me with nothing but an empty shell.Ihave nothing left—me! I’m empty without her!” I bang my chest to amplify its hollowness.
“Then man up and do what needs to be done—”
“I fucking tried! I promised to take care of her, to take care of our baby, but she didn’t want my help. She killed my baby, Slater. She killed it.”
The tears burning my eyes nearly roll down my cheeks when Slater murmurs, “No, she didn’t.”
My eyes snap to his. I have a million questions streaming through my head, but not one of them will leave my mouth.
I don’t need to talk when Slater says, “She couldn’t go through with it. She canceled the appointment.”
“She’s still pregnant?”
When he nods, I throw a bundle of money on the bar then snag my jacket from the back of my chair. Slater’s encouraging cheer is barely heard over the bustling crowd I’m barging through. I sprint as fast as my drunk legs will take me.
I’m halfway across the hotel foyer when the hairs on my arms suddenly stand to attention. I freeze so I can scan the lobby.I know she’s here; I can feel it.
I’m filled with relief when I spot Jenni standing at the reception desk. She's in a heated argument with the hotel desk clerk. Not impressed with whatever the desk clerk told her, she bends down to collect an overnight bag resting at her feet before heading toward the exit. She barely makes it two steps away when she notices me gawking at her.
Her other hand shoots up to cover her gasp as her eyes well with tears. We stare at each other for the next several seconds, not the least bit concerned by the hotel guests mingling around us.
It feels surreal seeing her after all this time, even more so when she whispers, “No one else.”
Nodding, I reply, “No one else.”
When she pushes off her feet to race my way, I follow her lead. We crash into each other almost violently. Hands, lips, and tongues go in all directions—as does the hurt from the past two months.
Chapter Forty-One
