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“Fucking get a room already,” I yell at them, mid-shot.
Haden’s no better. For someone I work with, he has no problem practically groping Presley under the table. I’ve been with enough women to know that he’s either brushing his fingers against her clit or fingering her under the table. Either way, I need to leave.
My only problem—I shouldn’t have drunk so much because I’m too intoxicated to drive.
When Kate strolls over, I wrap my arms around her and tell her how beautiful she is. I can always rely on Kate. I should never have allowed Morgan to make me believe otherwise.
“Okay,” she says plainly. “What do you want?”
“I need a ride,” I tell her, kissing the top of her hand.
She pulls it away. “Do I have ‘Uber’ written on my forehead?”
“No. You have ‘horny woman who needs to get laid by Zac Efron’ written on your forehead.”
She nods her head, agreeing. I manage to convince her. She’s also eager to leave the couples to get on with their business.
“Take me to Scarlett’s place,” I demand, slurring.
“Why?”
“I need to talk to her.”
Lies. I want to fuck her to forget. That would be the final nail in this fucked-up coffin called our relationship. Morgan would be hurt, and payback would sure be sweet right about now.
“But you’re drunk, Noah, and upset,” she reminds me, starting the engine. “What do you need to talk about?”
“Just do it. Okay?”
Kate lets out an annoyed huff before taking off.
It’s late, and the traffic is moving nicely down the freeway. Kate turns up the radio, playing some Katy Perry song. She hums along, distracted by her own thoughts until I startle her.
“Fuck!” I shout.
“What?” she responds, panicked, trying to look over.
“My cell died.”
She rolls her eyes, ignoring my first-world problem and driving up the windy street until we reach Scarlett’s home. For most of the ride, she tries to convince me not to go, but also knows me well enough to drop the subject after I basically tell her to fuck off.
The security guard calls through and opens the gates, allowing me in. When we reach the top of the drive, Scarlett comes out with a concerned look on her face, eyeing our surroundings.
“Hey,” I smirk, stumbling out of the car.
“Didn’t you get my text? I also tried to call you,” she says in a high-pitched voice.
“My phone died at…”
In the corner of my eye, behind the large tree, I see Morgan’s Mercedes. “Morgan’s here?”
I walk toward the house, ignoring Scarlett’s plea to stop. I don’t want Scarlett. And maybe this is a blessing in disguise. I have to apologize in person to Morgan and tell her I fucking love her.
Because I do.
She’s nowhere to be seen, so I move toward the patio where I see an outdoor fire pit and guests sitting on chairs. Scarlett calls my name in a panic, demanding to know what I’m doing. Then, I see her. She’s sitting on a chair, laughing with a glass of wine in her hand.
I step outside, and the second she sees me, her face drops. Pained and pleading for me to understand, she remains silent, not saying my name. I’m confused, and I look behind me where Kate stands and Scarlett’s biting her nails.
