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“Ghost, you okay?” Ryder asked, his eyes narrowing in concern as he noticed my darkened expression. “You seem … off.”
“I’m fine,” I replied tersely, my thoughts still consumed by my earlier frustration. “Just need to blow off some steam.”
We entered the VIP section, which was cordoned off from the rest of the club. Plush velvet couches lined the walls, while bottles of top-shelf liquor sparkled enticingly behind the bar. The space was already packed with people from the tour.
I downed shot after shot, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it numbed the irritating itch that had settled beneath my skin. I wasted no time indulging in my vices, grabbing an eager girl by the hips and grinding against her as we moved to the rhythm. She giggled, tossing her head back as she pressed herself closer to me, but my eyes sought out Remi among the crowd.
“Ghost, fantastic show tonight,” Bash shouted over the music, clinking his glass against mine. Sidney and Trudy were laughing at something Greyson had said, the man looking as handsome as ever, though my mood soured at the sight of him. But at least he wasn’t with Remi. Where was she?
My eyes scanned the room, my gaze landing on Remi talking to the photographer from Hollywood Exposé. She looked beautiful, her body encased in a tight black dress that left little to the imagination. And suddenly, I needed to know where I stood with her.
“Excuse me,” I murmured to the girl I’d been dancing with, not even bothering to meet her disappointed gaze as I stalked toward Remi.
Her expression was a mixture of concern and annoyance. “Ghost, you’re drunk!” she accused as soon as I approached.
“Maybe I am,” I slurred, my jealousy fueling my anger. “But that doesn’t change what I need to say.”
She crossed her arms defensively. “Fine. What is it you want to tell me?”
“Your precious boyfriend,” I spat, the venom in my voice palpable. “Are you getting back together with that asshole?”
Remi’s eyes widened as pain flashed across her face. “Why are you acting like this?”
“He’s a giant douchebag.” I sneered. “Didn’t he dump you? What is he doing here?”
“Greyson is not an asshole like you,” Remi hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. “He’s a good person. And you have no right to interfere in our relationship.”
My hands balled into fists at my sides as I tried to restrain myself from touching her. “Is that so?” I growled. “That stuck-up celebrity? You think he’s some kind of saint?”
“Ghost, you don’t know him.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “If you did, you would know that Greyson is a wonderful person.”
“Does Mr. Wonderful know we fucked?” I demanded, the hurt evident in my voice.
“Stay out of my relationship, Ghost,” Remi warned, her voice cold and detached.
“Is that what you want?” I growled, my hands wrapping around her waist and pulling her flush against my body. My anger and desire mingled together like a volatile concoction, urging me to take control. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t resist as I pressed my lips against hers, kissing her aggressively. Our lips crashed together in a passionate, fiery kiss that left us both gasping for air.
“Tell me,” I whispered between heated kisses, my voice rough with need. “Does Greyson make you feel like this?”
“Actually, yes,” she replied defiantly, her voice shaking slightly. “I love Greyson. He’s the one I want to be with, not some man who fucks around with every girl that crosses his path.”
She was right. I had nothing to offer her, but the sting of rejection sliced deep. My heart tightened in my chest. “Is that all I am to you? Just a one-night stand?”
She scowled at me and called my bluff. “You tell me.”
What the fuck was I doing? My head was swimming with alcohol and a torrent of emotions I’d never felt before. “Fuck, Remi.”
She closed her eyes, disappointed in my non-answer. “I felt something between us. But I can’t fool myself into believing we could have something meaningful when you don’t do commitment.”
“Maybe I don’t,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything for you, Remi.”
“Feelings aren’t enough,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. “I need more than just passion, Ghost. I need trust and stability, too. I need a partner. You’d end up destroying me.”
“Fine,” I spat, releasing her and stepping back, feeling the cold reality of her words washing over me like a torrential downpour. “Go be with Greyson. See if he can give you what you need.”
“Goodbye, Ghost,” Remi whispered, her voice choked with emotion as she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there in the dimly lit club, surrounded by pulsating music and gyrating bodies, feeling more alone than ever before.
Her words cut deeper than any knife, but I refused to let her see how much they affected me. Instead, I turned on my heel and headed back to the dance floor, drowning my sorrows in liquor and the warm bodies of women who meant nothing to me.
