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Wretched fuck buddy bracelet.
“So, the guy you were with isn’t your brother, right?” Zacharia’s drunken voice soils my senses, and the change of plans feels ridiculous.
“Of course not.” I roll my eyes and the reminder of Nico’s betrayal sears my thoughts. “He’s not my lover either.”
Nico’s just a friend.
A friend who managed to cause my heart to collapse on itself.
Maybe this is foolish. Maybe I misread the situation, but I know what I saw with my own eyes.
I could get my purse and get out of here, pack my suitcase, and be on the first flight out tomorrow.
But it looks likewe’re breaking all the rules now. I’m already here. Might as well have some fun.
Beats going home to clean up the shards from my chipped heart. How pathetic would that be?
“You’re a hot broad.” Zacharia looks down at me.
“I know.” I give him a tight smile, resisting the urge to look down at the dance floor and search for Nico in the crowd.
“No need to get cocky.”What is wrong with men?Fucking forbid I’m aware of my appearance as though I don’t spend effort, time, and money to look as gorgeous as I do. Cold hands land on my hips, and I let them. “Next time, say thanks.”
Don’t look for Nico.
Zacharia spins me around, and I slam against a solid mass.
My gaze scrambles into Nico’s. His body is rigid and unmoving.
“I’ll take it from here, buddy.” Nico’s voice is dark, loaded with a charge I’ve never heard. He circles his fingers around my wrist. I try to resist, but my crooked balance does little to keep a steady connection from my brain to my feet.
My dance partner holds onto me for dear life. His nails are practically digging into my sides, and I’m stuck in a game of Lily-tug-of-war. “We’re having fun, mate.”
“Hands off,” Nico growls like some virile beast has made a home in his body.
There’s no use in denying it. Despite the fact he abandoned me yet again, I’m ready to mount him on the VIP balcony, mouth foaming, lungs screaming, as whatever spell of possession that’s come over him drives itself into me.
I’m going to need to see a therapist when I get back to New York.
“I can take care of myself,” I seethe when Zacharia releases me.
“Don’t I fucking know it?” Nico’s grip loosens, and he turns.
I could just stay here.
Instead, I follow him down the stairs, through the crowd, and up another set of steps at the edge of the stage.
Nico hacks away at the monstrous banana leaf palms on either side of the entrance until I’m pinned against a curtained wall. His labored breath pierces me like bullets.
“How many times do I have to remind you,princesa?” Nico’s hands find their way into my hair, and he pulls the strands this time. The pain splinters at my nape, instantly flooding my core. “No other people.”
How fucking dare he.
My knees are weak. Wetness gathers between my legs and slicks along my thighs.
I deeply regret not wearing any panties.
Yeah, definitely need intensive therapy. As soon as possible.
