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“Sydney Tannen?”
“Yeah, that’s her name.”
My heart sinks. Of course I remember her. My parents were at her house, her famous parents’ house, the night of the accident. Pretending nothing is wrong, I answer Dax. “I didn’t know she was still doing work for the Warren.” Dax shrugs at my statement. “Sure, why not?”
All I have planned is a night of torturing myself with images of that asshole Ezra rutting on top of my Abby like a pig in heat. Fuck! I fist my hand in my lap, pissed at Abby for going out with that dipshit, pissed at myself for getting pissed, and pissed at life for shitting on me so spectacularly.
Plus, she’s not mine.
The only benefit to my now murderously dark mood is that my scowling manages to scare away the trio of tittering girls. They stare at me wide-eyed and gaping as I fantasize about dismembering Abby’s date. Soon after, they pack up and leave the pool area. Thank god. I couldn’t deal with squealing fans today.
Well, at least something went my way. And I only had to contemplate homicide to make it happen.
* * *
Why the hell I agreed to this is beyond comprehension. Sitting at home, gouging my own eyes out with a broken drumstick would be more pleasurable than this. I’m sitting in the VIP section of a fancy new club, watching Ezra the douchebag touch Abby all night while he shoots disgusting leers at every woman in the place. The backless, microscopic dress Abby is wearing has my dick hard enough to pound nails. Combined with the red-tinged fury surging through my veins from that asshole’s hands all over her while his eyes are all over anything in the room with a pair of tits, I’m an enraged mess.
Mine!
The unwelcome thought pulses through my subconscious.
I down another shot of whisky and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand while staring daggers into the back of Douchebag’s head. I should have anticipated Kate would invite Abby to this thing. By the time I noticed Abby in the club, I already had a few drinks in me and was feeling belligerent enough to stay and torture myself instead of ducking out early to spare myself the rage-inducing visuals.
Douchebag’s hand glides down the exposed skin of Abby’s back to rest at the base of her spine and I tense up, clenching my shot glass so tight I’m shocked it doesn’t burst into a thousand pieces.
“Hey!” I hold up two fingers for the bartender in the VIP lounge. In less than a minute, another double whisky is placed in front of me.
“Haa-aaawke.” A flirty, feminine voice sings my name.
I toss back the drink and tilt my head to see who’s joined me at the bar. My eyes go wide when I see Jessica Hamby standing next to me, a complete knockout in her bright red dress. Jessica from the flight to Colorado. Jessica who I fucked every way possible on every surface of my house in Boulder. Jessica who is a demure, eyelash-fluttering media darling in public and a seductive vixen with a very dirty mouth in private.
“Jess.” I let my eyes roam slowly up and down her body, taking in every curve, each one wrapped up like a gift in the tight red bandage dress.
Jessica leans into my shoulder, stealthily sliding her hand into my lap to give my crotch a squeeze. “How have you been?” she purrs.
I shudder from her touch, spinning my stool to face her. Jess steps between my legs and drapes her arms around my neck.
“I’ve been very bad. You?” Her pink tongue pokes out to wet her lips in a calculated move. As sexy and hot as she is, my eyes are drawn over her shoulder. I hold my breath when I find Abby staring back at me. The hurt look on her face makes me want to shove Jessica away, grab Abby, toss her over my shoulder, and drag her somewhere private where I can pin her against the wall, drive into her slick heat, and claim her for myself.
I’m about to make an excuse to get rid of Jessica and do just that when a head of brown hair blocks my view of Abby. Ezra pulls Abby close and leans down to kiss her. Abby doesn’t look very excited to be kissing her date and angles her head so I can still see her eyes, which are fixed on mine as Douchebag puts his disgusting mouth on what belongs to me.
“Hawke? Are you okay?”
Jessica’s voice tears my attention from the nightmare unfolding a few yards away. “Yeah. Fine.” I flick my gaze from Abby to Jessica and back. Abby looks upset, but makes no move to distance herself from her dickhead date. I’m pissed and hurt and slightly drunk, so of course, I make everything ten times worse.
I meet Jessica’s heated gaze head-on. “Wanna find someplace private?”
She gives me a wicked grin and reaches for my hand. As I lead her to the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of Abby’s tight frown and feel like the world’s biggest asshole.
If I’m going to go down, I’m going down in flames. I throw my arm around Jessica’s shoulders and land a sloppy, wet French kiss on her that she enthusiastically returns.
This time, I don’t look back.
Abby
I wake up way too early. My head aches from lack of sleep over the past week. I rub my eyes and get out of bed and get dressed, exhausted but determined to not lie around depressed.
On Saturday, after watching Hawke disappear with a perky little starlet only to come back a while later disheveled and grinning from ear to ear, the rest of my night went downhill quickly. My stomach wouldn’t stop knotting up and I wasn’t in the mood to dance, especially not with Ezra constantly pushing my boundaries with his wandering hands and mouth. By the time Ezra dropped me off, my mood was black. He was under the assumption he was going
