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The next section is a lot more trippy. All the paintings are technicolor and abstract, swirling and splashing to create images that make sense and don’t all at once. A few contortionists perform around the room in skintight jumpsuits that change color with the different lighting as they move.
As I’m about to move to another area, I see Bellamy leaning back against a neon bar that’s set up in the corner. There’s a woman standing in front of him talking, but he seems to be doing his best not to talk back to her. His face is set in an aggravated expression and he’s taking fast sips from a small glass. It’s not until I get closer that I see it’s his ex, and I pause.
What on earth is she doing here? He clearly didn’t invite her on account of his body language, and he looks like he’s about to throttle her. Or maybe himself, if that half-empty glass is anything to go by.
He sees me and the tension eases in his stance. He says something to her before pushing past her and heading straight for me.
“Thank fuck, you’re here,” he says when he reaches me. “I’m about to lose it.”
I want to focus on the fact that he looks like sex on a stick in his white button-down shirt with the top buttons undone and perfectly tailored black suit that fits him like a second skin. But I know he’s flustered and trying his best not to show it. He goes to knock back the rest of his glass, and from the smell of it, I’m guessing it’s his go-to bourbon.
I snatch the glass from him and shoot it before he can protest, gagging a bit as it goes down. Stuff tastes like shit. “You can be upset and not drink. Now, what’s going on?”
He smirks at me. “You hated that, didn’t you?”
“Worst fucking drink ever. Now stop stalling.”
He sighs. “I need to make it very clear that I have tried everything you said when she comes into the club. It was working. But she’s not backing down. I’m completely over this woman and have made it as fucking known as I possibly can, yet she has the nerve to show up at my best friend’s gallery to get a reaction out of me. I don’t know what else to do. Just now, she cornered me and is talking my ear off about getting back together, when she’s still fucking married! I can’t shake her.”
I stay silent for a minute as I process what he’s saying, along with his emotions as he talks about her. There is absolutely no affection coming off him for her, and frankly, I’m about done with her shit.
“Want to try and lose her?” I ask him.
“Please,” he replies, smiling at me with relief.
I nod and see a waiter going past us. I set down my now empty flute and Bellamy’s nasty bourbon glass, then grab his hand.
“Let’s go.” I don’t give him time to ask where before I’m pulling him in the direction of the next section.
I don’t stop to take in the stunning jungle-themed exhibit filled with all sorts of plants and vines, paintings of different forest creatures done in a mythological style, or the real as hell birds that are fluttering around the room. Instead, I keep going until we’re in the next.
This room is darker than the hellscape one, even with its slowly strobing white lights. It has a deep, bioluminescent ocean theme going, with paintings lit up by black lights. Each one depicts different creatures and plant life you’d see in the deepest, darkest parts of the ocean. In the middle of the room are jellyfish suspended from the ceiling that are made of translucent fabric and pale blue lights. They’re moving up and down in different swirling patterns to the sound of calming, moody music that makes them look almost as fluid as if they’re in real water. It’s quite beautiful to see.
With how dark the room is, we’re able to move to a corner and be almost completely shrouded in darkness.
“I think we lost her,” I say to him, quite happy to just hang out in this room until we’re sure she’s gone.
“Think again,” he replies, nodding toward the opening where his ex appears, searching for what direction we went.
“Really?” I groan, completely blown away by this woman’s desperation. She’s gone full-on stalker, and I can only surmise she’s not going to give up anytime soon.
Unless…
I turn to Bellamy, who looks like he’s about to lose his shit, and decide to do the one thing I told him not to do to get her off his back.
Make her jealous.
Pushing my palms against his chest, I shove him quite hard against the wall and press my body into his. He’s so stunned by the move, he just stands there with his hands raised, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“True, what—”
“Go with it,” I interrupt, then take his face in my hands and bring his head down until we’re cheek to cheek with his lips right next to mine. “It’s going to look like we’re kissing from this angle, so make it look good.”
He chuckles and brings his hands down to wrap one around my waist. The other goes to my thigh and he hikes my leg up to wrap around his waist, leaving his hand there to hold it up from behind my knee.
“How’s this?” he whispers seductively, enjoying this a lot more than I thought he would. The desire is radiating off him in massive waves that make it hard for me to think.
“Is she watching?” I ask him shakily, feeling like I’ve had at least three shots of that nasty bourbon of his.
