“Yeah, I know… I just don’t trust them. I just can’t. They only want one thing and one thing only - and when they don’t get it, they kick your ass to the curb. Sayonara!”
“Not all men are like that…”
“No. Liam isn’t like that,” I tell her, and it hurts to feel his name on my lips. Opening my mouth, I finish the vodka and let the empty bottle slip from my fingers and onto the couch.
“See?” Renee starts, holding both my hands now. “I know that you’ve seen a lot of shit ever since you opened Lust Muscle, but you can’t give up on trust and love.”
“I’m not sure if I can do that…”
“Of course you can! You did it with Liam. You can do it again!” She insists, holding my hands so tight that I feel my fingers growing numb.
“You’re right. But… But… He probably hates me right now. I was such a bitch. And I probably screwed everything up. I need to call him right now and tell him I love him!” I cry out loud, jumping up to my feet and grabbing my phone from the coffee table.
“Cara, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Renee says, looking up at me hesitantly, but I barely process what she's trying to tell me. Right now, vodka is fueling my meltdown - as such, instead of acting rationally and putting my phone down, I start scrolling down my contacts list, looking for Liam’s number.
“Alright, this is for the greater good,” Renee says suddenly, going up to her feet as well. Moving as fast as lightning (or maybe I’m just too drunk), she snags the phone out of my hands.
“Give it to me!” I demand, trying to reach for the phone, but she just places her free hand over my face and keeps me at bay.
“You’re too drunk, Cara. You’ll just screw it up even more!” She cries out as I try to wrestle the phone out of her hands. “Call him in the morning!”
“In the morning,” I repeat, submitting to her. Who would’ve said that Renee would end up being the only reasonable person in such a situation? “I’ll call him in the morning.”
“Good girl,” she whispers with a smile, but she tucks my phone inside her purse all the same. Good thinking.
Ah, shit, no wonder I’ve been avoiding love all my life.
Love is hard.
Liam
I pace around my apartment, restless anger and frustration combining in a tense energy I can’t shake no matter how much I want to.
I want to call her, go back to her apartment, anything really as long as I can stop this pressing loneliness from hanging over me. The fight with Cara is like a fucking movie clip playing on repeat in my head over and over and over again. I can’t get it out of my mind.
The things she said. The look on her face. So much pain and heartache there. And I’m feeling it, too. This is exactly why I’ve worked so hard to keep from getting involved with a woman. Nothing can end well if you put your heart on the line. I fucking know better. I’ve spent most of my adult life avoiding this very thing.
Until Cara walked into my life and made me feel things I never thought I’d feel. Want things I never thought I’d want. Things I never knew I was missing until she came along.
Fuck!
I punch my fist into the door frame of the front door as I pass by it for the eight-hundredth time. I need to get the fuck out of here.
Grabbing my keys from the entry table, I storm out the door, taking the stairs because standing still in an elevator might make me lose it completely right now. When I bust through the door of my building onto the busy Manhattan streets, I stride angrily down the sidewalk until I get to my favorite bar.
Grabbing a seat at the bar, I order the most expensive whiskey they have, then tell the bartender to just bring me the whole fucking bottle.
I knock the first glass back like it’s a shot, not even caring that it’s a damn good waste of such a fine drink. Same thing with the second. When the burn settles in my stomach, I slow down, pouring a glass and jostling the ice around while I look around the bar.
Almost immediately, three women smile my way and saunter over to me on six-inch heels, hips swaying in their miniskirts as they bat their fake eyelashes and bite their heavily painted lips. I want to roll my eyes. They’re like slutty versions of Stepford wives. Carbon copies of each other.
How was I so into that shit a week ago? Right now I’m totally disgusted by the sight of them. Only out for a good fuck. To get their claws in Liam Donovan so they can say they fucked me, like some goddamn badge of honor.
Cara’s words come back to me as the cookie cutter skanks sidle up to me, draping themselves all over my body.
The ultimate player.
Liam fucking Donovan, king of the world.