Playboy Billionaire

“San Giovanni,” I say to the bouncer, and he lets us pass through. The club is booming, illuminated with fluorescent lights of different colors. It’s the perfect escape, as usual. I cross to the bar, order us a round of shots, and the bartender brings out the tequila. I hate that this reminds me of Stella.

Instead of lingering on that thought any longer, I take three and sit back against the bar, watching the crowd dance like crazy under the lifting beams of light.

“You come here a lot without Stella?” Jack asks in my ear, clearly far more intoxicated than me.

“I do what I want.” I snap back, and he raises his hands and leans against the bar next to me. The bartender brings us another round of shots, and before I can tell her I didn’t ask, she smiles wide. “It’s on the house.” She yells over the music.

In any other circumstance, I would instantly flirt with this woman, probably bring her home and fuck her for a few hours, but I can’t. Not just because Jack is here and will tell me if I even take one step out of line, but because I can’t look at her without feeling a pang in my chest. It doesn’t leave, no matter how drunk I get. The feeling of wanting to know where Stella is, wanting her here with me, and thinking about how she feels and looks and smells.

Shit. Something has to be seriously wrong with me.

I’ve almost drunk my weight in alcohol, and I feel more obliterated than ever. Jack has slowed down his drinks, but he sees me before I even realize what I’m doing. My body falls forward, and just before I’m about to hit the floor, I see Jack jump to my aid.

The whole room is spinning. I wake up with a song my mother used to sing to me before falling asleep, and underneath my body is the fluffy feeling of my comforter.

I sit up, causing even more spinning than before, and I run to the bathroom, throw up in the toilet until tears are streaming from my eyes and my throat is burning, then sink back onto the tiled floor. After a minute, I feel cold hands lift my head and place a pillow under it. They cover me with a blanket and leave before I can open my eyes to see who it is. Am I in my home? I have to be? But how did I get here?

Hours pass, and my body is asleep, but my mind is awake. What happened last night? Did we stay at the club for very long? God, I hope I didn’t bring anyone home.

“Wakey wakey eggs and bakey.” I hear in the distance, and I know it’s Jack's annoyingly smooth voice.

“What?” I squint my eyes open, and he’s standing over me with a plate full of eggs and bacon.

“I don’t want it,” I mumble, turning over on my side.

“Well, you have work to do today, so you have to get up sometime.”

“Why are you here?” I bite back.

“Thank you, Jack, for stopping me from busting my head open and getting me home safe. I’m eternally grateful.” He lowers his voice, attempting to mimic me.

“Please leave.”

“At least he said please.” Another voice that I know too well comes from behind him, and my eyes fly open. Stella is standing in the doorway, looking like she’s been up for hours. She’s got jean shorts and a tank top on. I never see her in something like this. I think she looks hot in anything, but this is pretty fucking hot.

“At least let me eat in my bed,” I grumble, shakily sit up, and Stella rushes to my aid. I feel bad about that. Not just because I don’t like being taken care of, but because her touching me is the last thing I want. I attempt to get up on my own, and she mostly just makes sure I don’t topple over, barely grazing my arm. When she does, though, it sends chills from the location that spread throughout the rest of my body.

I make my way to the bed, flop down on it faster than I probably should have, and accept the food that Jack has been holding. It’s good, but don’t say much while I eat it. I just want to be alone, but the last thing I need is to be left alone with Stella.

“I have some work to get done today, but I’ll be back tomorrow to see if we can follow another lead.” Jack looks up from his phone to say goodbye.

“Nice meeting you, Stella!” He calls as he heads to the door.

“I’ll walk you out.” She smiles at him, and I look between them for a second. No way that she fucking likes this clown. Shit. She has every right to, though. Why am I being so fucking possessive?

I watch as they exit the room. Beat myself up for thinking about Stella in a way I don’t want to. Everything she wears makes me want to take it off her. There is no reality where we get an ending with each other because to achieve that, we have to be fully bound, and I’m not settling down now— maybe not ever. She deserves someone like Jack. He’s like a golden boy with the mind of a squirrel.

Many women are attracted to men like that for relationships. But I know how to fuck them right, and I’ve never had a problem fucking as many as I want. That’s my role, and I take it very seriously because I get what I want, when I want it, and I don’t have to answer to anyone.

Yeah, okay. I can stay away from Stella, and I’ll go right back to only wanting that. Stop seeing her face everywhere I look, stop the weight in my chest from making me turn away from every woman I see, and stop feeling in general… too bad I’m not drunk anymore to believe that’s possible. I’m screwed, regardless of which way you cut it.