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“Looks like your ride’s here, Mercy.”
Koa stops following me, and I look up to see none other than Hayden Cross standing out front. As usual, he’s dressed in a tailored business suit. One manicured hand is in his pocket, and the other twirls a set of keys. He looks like everything Dylan wants me to be — cultured, rich, and snobbish.
“Hayden,” I say, trying to control my voice. I hate him being here. I hate Koa seeing me leave with him. I hate that I inexplicably just rain checked our secret hook-up. “I told you I don’t need a ride.”
“I dislike arguing with you, but I’ve seen that bus.” He looks down, smiling that stupid, perfect smile. I feel Koa pulling away behind me. “It does not become you.”
“I haven’t finished packing up my things.”
“I don’t mind waiting. Can’t have dinner without you.” My whole body cringes. He’s speaking so loud, every word rings clear through the gym.
When I turn, I see Koa behind the bar pretending to be busy. I know he’s confused. I’m pretty sure he’s angry, and I can’t tell him anything right now.
“Well, hello,” Hayden is close behind me, following me to the bar. “It’s you… Doris’s nephew?”
My brow lines, thinking he’s confused Koa with Jim. I’m bewildered when Koa looks up an
d gives Hayden a tight smile. “Church guy,” he says.
Church?
“Hayden Cross.” My designated driver holds out a slim hand.
“Koa Raiden. You’re picking up Mercy?”
I stiffen when Hayden drops back and puts an arm around my shoulders. “We have a standing dinner date.”
Only the slightest flinch crosses Koa’s face. It’s possible I’m the only one to see it. “At my house,” I add quickly. “It’s a Thursday night thing.”
“Sounds nice.” Koa’s tone tells me he means the exact opposite. I want to die.
“Mercy, we really have to go.” Hayden holds my arm, and I take my bag off the counter, trying to send Koa a reassuring look.
His lips curl in what looks like disgust, and he blinks away. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say quickly, my voice sounding weak to me.
“Sure,” is all he says.
Tomorrow, I reassure myself. I’ll explain everything tomorrow. Less than twenty-four hours, and he’ll understand.
* * *
Koa
What the fuck was that? I’m standing behind the bar watching some well-dressed douche lead Mercy out, and I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched in the gut. Less than four hours ago she was sending me sexy texts. Now she’s leaving to have dinner with Mr. GQ himself?
Whatever. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve been fighting this for days, but I know it’s the truth. I’m no good for Mercy. She belongs with a guy like that. Someone who can buy her nice shit and take care of her.
Yeah, like I’m buying that crap. My insides feel like they’ve been shredded.
“Dude, Sally and I are headed up to the Observatory to see the harvest moon tonight. You’re welcome to join us.”
Jim’s voice is empathetic, and I’m pretty sure he’s feeling sorry for me. That almost makes me see red. I do not need anyone feeling sorry for me.
“Thanks, but I’ve got other plans.”
My other plans find me in a low booth at Vider’s Pub polishing off my third Irish Car Bomb and setting up for number four. It’s a stupid way to behave. Trust me, I’m aware how stupid I’m acting. Mercy doesn’t owe me anything. We haven’t made any commitments. From the start I’ve made it clear I’m not sticking around, and besides, I’m ignoring the given: She comes from money and prestige. Of course, she’s dating some Armani-wearing wank with manicured nails.
A pretty waitress with cute blonde curls sets a pint of Guinness and a shot of whiskey in front of me. “Expecting friends?” She leans against the side of the wooden booth and gives me a smile.
