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“Ainsley?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m okay. No edge.”
There’s a very big edge, and it’s currently ignoring me.
The gin burns on the way down, but it still doesn’t feel strong enough tonight.
“Right.”
“Hey, man,” Casper says, slapping Reggie on the shoulder. Where did he come from? He turns to me, and I can barely breathe. “Ainsley, nice of you tocome.”
There’s a little too much emphasis on the word ‘come’ for my liking.
I smile sweetly through the ball of anxiety and my thumping heart. “How could I miss another famous Casper Hart kitchen party?”
Reggie chuckles, shakes his head, and walks away from us.
No, don’t go!
I want to reach out and grab him. He’s my buffer—the one who will stop me doing something stupid.
Casper does the opposite to Reggie and steps closer.
My eyes widen in alarm. The last time he did that… “What are you doing?”
He leans in; no need for witnesses to hear what he’s about to say. “Are you scared I’ll fuck you on the counter and everyone will finally know that I’ve had you?”
What the fuck?
And yes.
My stomach twists with an intensity and an anger that frightens me. I want to take my glass and wrap it around his head. How dare he?
The way he said ‘I’ve had you’ makes it sound like it was all a game.
I turned him down when we first met but he still got me into his bed.
“You really want people to know that you had sex with someone five minutes after their absent mother turned up?”
He glares at me, but it’s not the same as when we were in the shower together. “As I recall, it was you coming onto me. What I did was a public service. Have a great evening, Ainsley.”
I gasp when the wanker walks away. What the hell? Public service? Damn it, I should’ve shoved in his face the fact that he followed me into the shower.
Well, that’s my question answered. The sting of knowing I’m all out of his system and have been a massive fool takes my breath away.
Downing the last of the gin in one go, I turn and pour another with tears in my eyes that I blink away.
He hasn’t changed at all. At least I now know. Shit way to find out but it’s on me. I knew what he was like before.
I’m going to drink until I puke. I might even do it on his pillow. I down the next gin and the next with everyone around me drinking, dancing, laughing, with no idea how close I am to breaking.
“Hi, Ainsley,” Mason says. “How’s it going?”
“Dance with me,” I say instead of greeting him with hello.
He blinks hard. “Right. Yeah, okay.”
Mason takes my drink and puts it down on the side. He slips his hand into mine and leads me from the kitchen into the living room.
