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“But you have to dance with me. My boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—is a cheating asshole, and I’m celebrating my newfound freedom. It’s my breakup party. There has to be dancing. Hotshot”—she pinned me with a serious look, fisting her hands on her hips—“you too, let’s go.”
“I don’t dance.”
Her brows furrowed, and she looked so fucking cute. “No, you just kiss girls without their—”
Thankfully Dayna’s new friends intercepted her, dragging her off to the small dance floor in the corner of the bar.
“What did she just say?” Carson glared at me.
“No idea. Sounded like a drunken ramble if you ask me.” I sipped my beer, glancing to the dance floor. Dayna was dancing with her arms thrown high in the air, a wide smile painted on her face. But I saw the shadows in her eyes. Josh had done a real number on her.
“I could drive to Toledo and wring his fucking neck,” Carson murmured.
Want backup?I wanted to ask but swallowed the words.
Jesus.
What was it about this girl that had gotten under my skin?
I wanted to hate it, and part of me did, but I also found myself anticipating her next snarky comment, another exasperated smile, any scraps of attention she’d throw my way.
“What?” Carson asked me, and I shook my head.
“Nothing.”
“You’re not fooling anyone,” he said cryptically.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Hmm, we’ll see.” He wrapped his fingers on the table, standing. “I’m going to get another beer. You want anything?”
My gaze flicked to the dance floor again, to Dayna, and back to him.
“No, I’m good.”
Liar.
But the one thing I wanted was so far out of my reach that all I could do was watch.
* * *
“She’s like the Energizer Bunny on crack,” Carson said sometime later.
My brows went up, a smirk playing on my lips, and he balked.
“Fuck, I did not mean… get your mind out of the gutter. It’s been an hour, and she’s still going.”
“She needs this,” I said.
I knew what it was like to reach for a distraction—something to numb the pain inside. Hockey, college parties, girls… It was the perfect recipe for an escape. One I’d spent the better part of three years overindulging in.
At Lakeshore U, I was somebody. I was the Lakers star player, but that was it. Nobody knew Aiden Dumfries, the guy who had grown up in the shadow of his piece of shit father.
I’d worked my ass off to shake the stain he’d left on my childhood, but I would never fully escape it. So yeah, I knew what it was like to want to escape, to want to be someone else—just for a little while.
Carson’s phone started ringing, and he frowned at the screen as he snatched it up. “Mom, what is— yeah, calm down. I’ll be there. No, no, it’s fine. I can walk— yeah.”
“Problem?” I asked as he hung up.
