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“To be fair to her, Hulk, I asked Queenie to get someone to work their charm to calm the situation until I could get here.”
“And that involved dry humping him for all to see, did it?” snaps Hulk, not taking his eyes off the scene before him. “The girl always goes in full force. Can’t she flirt without rubbing herself on him like an attention-seeking cat?”
I decide to ignore his moaning. He doesn’t want Piper, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have her either. “Is Mae okay? Queenie said she was a little worse for wear.”
“She took a guy out back about five minutes ago.” I glance around, hoping to hell she isn’t with Scar. “Also Mafia,” adds Hulk, and I don’t know if that’s worse or better.
“She’s drunk. She shouldn’t be making bad decisions. You should’ve stopped her,” I mutter, irritated.
“She’s young, free, and single. She should most definitely be making bad choices. Mae’s boring and nothing like she should be for her age.”
“She is not. Stop being a dick. I’m gonna go find her and check she’s okay. You stay and watch these guys, and call me if anyone steps outta line.”
I step out of the marquee and listen to see if I can hear voices. It’s too loud with the music pumping and people’s laughter filling the late-night air.
“Mae,” I shout and then listen for a response. When she doesn’t answer, I walk around the back of the marquee. “Mae,” I shout again.
I hear a scuffle and whispers, then I spot two figures in the pitch black, their shadows close together. “Mae, is that you?” I repeat.
“Erm, yeah. I’m fine,” she answers.
“Fuck being fine, who the hell are you out here with?” I move closer until I can see her face. The man with her is one of Tag’s ringside team. I’ve seen him many times, usually with different women. “Get the hell back inside,” I snap.
“Ace, I’m good,” she hisses.
“You never said your dad was Ace.” The guy smirks, and I picture my fist hitting his perfectly chiselled jaw line.
Mae giggles. “He’s not. He’s Lucy’s dad.”
“Mae, you’re drunk, let’s get you inside before you do something you’ll regret.”
“I won’t regret it. I’m so sick of being the good girl everyone runs to with their problems,” she slurs. “I want to be the girl who has one-night stands and drinks too much.” She sways, and the guy grabs her to steady her.
He gives me an awkward smile. “I should go.”
I roll my eyes and take her from him so he can make his escape. She tries to protest but slaps her hand over her mouth. “I feel sick,” she mutters.
“Some party animal you’re turning out to be,” I tease, leading her back inside.
Mae’s bedroom is on one of the upper floors and getting her up the stairs is a slow process. In the end, I tire of her clumsy steps and decide to throw her over my shoulder. “Why did you get so drunk?” I growl, shaking my head in annoyance as I climb the rest of the stairs.
“To mend my broken heart,” she whimpers.
“First, whoever broke your heart, I’ll kill them, and second, did it work?”
“It’s a secret, and no, it still hurts. Did I mention that I feel sick?”
I open her door and deposit her on her bed. “Get some sleep,” I growl. She curls herself into a ball and groans. I hesitate and ask, “Are you gonna be okay?” She responds with another groan. “Mae, are you gonna be okay?”
She tries to sit herself up, almost falling off the edge of the bed. “I’m not ugly, am I?”
I shift uncomfortably. I’ve been in Mae’s room many times, usually to vent when I’m ready to explode. She listens and doesn’t judge, but she never talks about herself, her feelings, or shit like that, and I’m afraid she’s gonna cry any minute. It’s unfamiliar territory and something Piper would be better dealing with. I pull out my phone, hoping she can come up here. “Oh god, you think I am, don’t you? It’s because I’m so ugly!”
I sigh. “No, you’re not ugly.” And I’m not just saying that to appease her—she really is beautiful. Her curves are perfect, she has the right amount of arse to breast, and she isn’t one of those skinny girls with nothing on her bones. I like a girl who doesn’t order a salad at a restaurant. Her dark hair falls to her backside in waves. “Where’s this all coming from, Mae?” I tuck my phone away again.
“I know I’m not like Piper and Nova,” she mutters. I sigh and take a seat beside her. “And I’m always the one everyone comes to for advice,” she continues. “But sometimes, I just want a man to look at me and think, ‘wow, she’s stunning’.”
“Mae, stop. This isn’t like you. When you sober up, you’ll feel better,” I say, stroking her hand.
