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“Don’t just stand there. Get on your knees or get me a drink,” Brad said, dangerously close to putting his hand on me again. But I was done with him—done with this night.
I put my hands on my hips, an insult on my lips about his dick size or receding hairline, when a whoosh of air brushed past my cheek, and a rigid body bumped me out of the way.
“Fuck it.” Simon’s fist smashed into Brad’s nose, causing blood to spurt from the ruptured appendage. He drew his hand back, shaking it as Brad crumpled to the floor, his body slumping against the wall and sliding down as blood dripped from both nostrils.
“What the hell happened?” a tall guy with short, dark hair asked, making his way down the hall in long strides. “I came to take a leak and saw you drop that guy like a sack of flour. Simon, buddy, what’s going on?”
Simon stared at me, his lithe figure towering over Brad. He flexed his fist before turning to the other guy. “This fuck got what he deserved. But I have to get out of here, Drake.”
“Yeah, man. Sure. Go. I’ll, um, handle this.”
Simon ripped the bowtie off his neck with a curt nod and stormed past me toward the exit, barreling into the door with his shoulder and out into the night air. I spared a glance at the guy, Drake, who nudged the still unconscious Brad with his shoe before turning and clutching my dress so I could run after Simon.
“Thank you, Drake,” I called, pushing the bar on the door and stepping onto the asphalt, looking at the older brick buildings to get my bearings.
A flash of platinum to my left had me running in that direction, shouting Simon’s name. My toes pinched terribly in my four-inch heels, but this was my chance to salvage us. If I could get to him I could make him understand what tonight was about.
“Simon,” I screamed, not caring that several pedestrians stopped to stare. All that mattered was the one blond man whose steps faltered when he looked over his shoulder. I made it to his side, wincing with the stitch in my hip but reaching out all the same, wanting the physical contact—needing his touch desperately to get rid of the awful feeling Brad left me with.
“Please let me—”
“No.” He cut off my words with a venomous slash of his hand, ending my explanation before I could start it. “I trusted you, loved you, and you betrayed me! You had his room key, Addison. He was touching you. You were letting him. How could you? After I held you? Promised to make you happy? You fucking looked me in the eyes and lied.”
He thrust his ticket into the valet’s hand, facing the other direction and oblivious to the scene we were causing. I got in his face, fisting his crisp white shirt and pulling him forward until our noses were almost pressed together. “Simon, you don’t understand.”
“I don’t need to fucking understand. My eyesight is fine, and I saw everything I needed to. I saw a cheater.”
No. No, Simon. Prove me wrong. Show me you’re different. Show me I can trust you.
I stuttered, my steps faltering as I let go and backed up, pressing my hand to my chest as the growl of his engine cut through the lingering voices. The wide stretch of his back expanded and retracted as I watched him try to control his breathing. He was hurt, angry, pissed, and a thousand other things I should be able to fix if only he’d let me.
Dread twisted my insides as I realized the implications of him walking away tonight. Something deep in my stomach said if he left—if I let him get in his car and drive away—it would be the end of us. The victory with Brad would be meaningless and empty because I’d be left with nothing.
Simon passed a bill over to the valet, still avoiding my eyes and taking off his jacket to throw it in the seat beside him. He pushed his blond fringe out of his face and hunched forward, preparing to get inside his car. I pulled my dress up past my ankles and propelled myself forward, brushing past the valet and sliding between Simon and the door, not allowing him to close it.
“Please, wait,” I said in a choked gasp, not caring that another tear fell down my cheek. “You have to give me a chance. What you saw. What I did—”
“Once again, Addison,” he said, interrupting me with a deathly calm voice. “I don’t have to do anything. Move out of my way. You’re getting what you’ve wanted from the beginning. To be goddamn alone.”
Right. What I want. What I deserve. But you were supposed to be different.
I nodded, moving out of the way so he could slam the door. The engine revved, and his tires squealed as he sped off, making a sharp turn onto Queen Street. My hand went to my chest as I struggled to control my pulse, hurrying away. I fumbled to pull my phone from my clutch, glad I hadn’t dropped it in my mad rush to chase after Simon.
The tears I’d been holding back moved closer to the surface, but I pushed them down, not allowing any more to fall than the few that already had. When the story was finished, there’d be time to cry in the closet with a bottle of gin and a quart of ice cream. Until then, I had to get myself under control. I closed my eyes, took three deep breaths, opened them, and started scrolling through my contacts.
“Charlotte,” I said when she answered on the second ring. “It’s done. He admitted everything.”
I raised my hand, signaling for a taxi as Charlotte took a breath that I heard over the outdoor noise of the street.
“Do you mean it? Are you serious?”
“Completely. Now, do you think the girl you told me about—the one who lost her scholarship—would consider coming forward? My best friend’s fiancé is a police officer. Or maybe she could talk to me if she’s uncomfortable with that?” I stuck my thumb in my mouth, ruining the newly applied nail polish as the taxi pulled closer. Brad willingly admitted her name, and if she would come forward, it would go a long way to help our case.
“I can do one better for you, Addison. Three other girls are at my apartment, all ready to talk to you.”
“Th-three? Did you say three?” I almost tripped on the curb getting in the cab and rattling off my address while I processed Charlotte’s words.
“Yes, three.”
“Why don’t y’all meet me at my place if it’s not too late? We’ll order pizza, Chinese, or hell, both, and talk.”
Charlotte agreed, and I rattled off my address again, my voice cracking with the tears still trying to fall as she gave me a rundown of their stories. I listened with rapt attention, nodding and realizing I needed to bring in the big guns.
