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I stalk back to my kitchen and scull my protein shake without tasting it. One night—I just need one more night. This is totally fucked. I’m like a drug addict waiting for my next hit and she is my drug of choice. I text Adrian.
I forbid you to go out with her today. If I can’t spend time with her, you’re definitely not. Trust me—she could turn Elton John. But ask her to meet us at the Ivy tonight.
This is it, I will just spend one more night with her and then that’s it. I will walk away.
Chapter 14
I’m shitty. So, so shitty. How dare he ask me if I love him and not say it back? What was it—a fucking test? Did I pass… asshole. He probably wants to see exactly how pathetic I actually am, and you know what? I’m astounded myself at just how well I passed. I got a high fucking distinction. He doesn’t call me, except in the middle of the night for a booty call. He leaves in the middle of the night so he doesn’t have to do the walk of shame in the morning. He doesn’t communicate at all with me unless it’s with his damn penis, as lovely as that is. That’s it, I know I’ve said it before, but I‘ve seriously had enough of his shit. If he does call me, which he won’t, but if he does, I’m going to tell him to take a hike. I smile as I listen to my thoughts. Even to my ears I know that’s a lie. I put my head in my hands as I lean onto the
kitchen bench. I hate having bastard–player–lover syndrome. Aren’t you supposed to grow out of this shit when you turn nineteen? I drag on my gym gear and head to the gym—anything to stop me from calling him, calling him and begging for him to come back.
At 11 am I receive a text:
Hi Tash, Sorry I have to bail on coffee but do you and your friends want to meet Josh and me at the Ivy tonight?
Adrian x
I press the delete button with such force I’m amazed I don’t crack the screen. As if I am going to turn up at the Ivy. He didn’t even text me himself. What a wanker. He can wait there all frigging night or go to hell, either or, I don’t care.
10 pm
I am in my flannelette PJs, the ones he hates. In spite of course, with Abbie and Bridget by my side commiserating, and drinking wine. We have decided he can go to hell. If he can’t call me himself, well then he bloody well can’t have me. I must say the thought of him at the Ivy with all of those beautiful women and him being, well, himself, is making me jumpy.
“As if he won’t pick up tonight,” I sigh to Abbie.
“You’re such an idiot,” she snaps. “I thought you wanted answers?”
“I do,” I sigh.
“Well, you are really going to get them here aren’t you?” I shrug my shoulders as I feel sorry for myself and blow out a breath, my head leaning back onto my lounge.
Bridget chimes in. “Natasha, you are doing the right thing. He’s a self–absorbed prick, remember.”
“What would you do then Abbie?”
She smiles a sly smile. “I would go and look so unbelievably hot that he would be begging for mercy and then some.” I narrow my eyes. “Why don’t you go and set a trap?”
“Like what?”
“Arrive and then don’t go over and say hello but let him see you. And didn’t you say he liked dirty talk?” I nod. “Well, I would get my mouth so filthy it needs disinfecting and then I would go home without him. You watch, he’ll be begging for mercy tomorrow. And you know what men do when they are needy?” I shrug—really I have no idea about men, do I? “They talk,” she raises her eyebrows and gives me a wink. I bite my lip and look at Bridget who shrugs her shoulders. “Hmm, that does sound better than my plan I suppose,” I whisper.
She smiles at me, “Lucky you got that Brazilian wax. It’s not pretty when girl’s pubes hang out the bottom of miniskirts.”
“Eeww, you’re an animal,” Bridget chuckles.
“Hurry the hell up”, she snaps. “Time to tart up. Mr Stanton is going down.”
I look into the mirror at my reflection an hour later; ok, yes it’s true. I do look sort of hot. I’ve got the cleavage happening, thanks to my super–dooper Booster Bra, tight–wrap – bandage black dress, my shoes that I want to marry and my hair is straightened to within an inch of its life. I’m even wearing red lipstick. If he can resist me looking as skanky as this then good luck to him, he deserves an exit pass. Now the dirty talk, that’s a whole different story. What the hell do I say? And how far is too far? There’s a fine line between hot and downright low, maybe I will just follow his lead all night. See how far he can take me.
11.45 pm
We walk into our favourite bar at the Ivy and I must say the reaction of a few drunken men outside on the street to my dress has given me the confidence boost I so desperately needed. Abbie heads to the bar to buy our drinks and I wait with Bridget. She knows a group of girls here from uni and one of them has come over to talk to us.
“Oh my, Natasha, you look amazing tonight,” she smiles. “Have you lost weight?” I fake a smile and nod. I hate it when girls say that when they can’t think of anything else. I haven’t lost frigging weight, you silly bitch. My thoughts are anywhere but on this conversation.
“Two o‘clock,” Bridget whispers. I casually look around and I see them, the Stanton boys— well, three of them and Adrian. Two other men are not far from them leaning up against the wall and I now recognise them as Josh’s bodyguards. Josh is in his standard jeans and blazer but he has a pink check shirt on and he looks frigging awesome as usual. Bastard. I turn away instantly, not wanting to be the one that notices him first. Play the game Natasha, play the game, I chastise myself. Cameron notices us and bounds straight over. He grabs Bridge in an embrace and twirls her around.
“How are my two favourite cousins?” He smiles as he kisses her on the cheek. He comes over to me and puts his arm around my shoulder and kisses my forehead. “Sorry about the other night. Josh is a prick.” Huh what’s he talking about? Oh the fight night—shit, he doesn’t know that I’ve seen Josh since. My mind races off in a tangent. He hasn’t told them we’ve hooked up, why would he do that ? I know the answer: to protect me. I am suddenly seeing our midnight visits in another light. They have been staying at his house so of course he wants to be home before they wake up. Maybe, and I mean just maybe, I have misread this situation. Abbie returns with our drinks and I take mine immediately, wishing I could drain the damn tumbler in one gulp. From the corner of my eye I see the others join Cam and our group. Adrian kisses me on the cheek and squeezes my hand as does Wilson when he arrives. Joshua, however, stays back and silent but I can feel him watching me and I refuse to look at him. He can kiss my ass.
