Oh. That’s it.
His gaze stops on Mack. She’s talking to someone I don’t recognize. A friend of her dad’s. He’s friends with everyone. Though friend is the wrong word.
It’s more that he wields considerable influence.
He’s well—
There’s a reason her mom is always drinking.
Holden nudges Skye. “Let’s mingle. Me and you.”
“I’m ditching Forest?” she asks.
“Who would you rather have on your arm?” He raises a brow come on, look at me.
Across the room, Mack turns to us. She nods hey. Makes eye contact with me.
What the hell can I say to her? Besides get the fuck out of my head?
I don’t want to think about her anymore.
I don’t want to be here.
But it’s what Skye needs.
I’m going to have to get through it.
“How about we get a drink?” Skye looks to me. Mouths is that okay?
I nod yeah. “I’ll meet you there.”
Holden smiles. “Moscow mule?”
“Of course.”
He offers his arm.
She takes it. Laughs at some joke he makes. Blows me a kiss as she walks away.
It’s with my permission. It’s because Holden is trying to spare Skye a scene.
Trying to protect me from myself. Well, from the person I become around my ex-girlfriend.
But it feels so fucking familiar.
It’s there, in the pit of my stomach. She’s going to leave you too. She’s going to find someone better. She’s going to fuck him like she never fucked you.
Which is ridiculous.
The last few hours—
I’m still sore. I don’t have anything left. There’s no way she has another round in her.
If she does—
I should leave. Take her back to my room. Make her come until she begs me to stop.
That’s exactly what I need. Her groan bouncing around the room. My name rolling off her lips. Her hands tugging at my hair.
The world fucking perfect.
I try to stay locked in the memory of her body against mine, but it’s not enough. Dread still rises in my throat.
She’s leaving too.
You’re not enough.
You’re never going to be enough.
I turn to the bar. Watch my brother order my best friend a drink.
The bartender stares at her tits. Her parents say something about her outfit.
She shrugs. Takes her drink. Downs it quickly.
Her parents kiss. Really kiss. Like horny teenagers.
They’re always like horny teenagers.
Fuck, Skye looks so much like her dad. Except for those eyes. She has the same bright blue eyes her mom does.
Her mom is lithe, blond, subdued. She wears soft makeup and styles her hair in a no-nonsense bob. Even now, at a formal event, she’s wearing flats and a practical dress. Skye says it’s from Nordstrom.
She always rolls her eyes when she says it. Not that I get her feelings. Yeah, she prefers independent boutiques. But I’ve seen her leave that particular department store with a bag full of stuff plenty of times.
Fuck, some of the stuff in the lingerie section—
“Forest, hey.” Mack’s voice flows into my ears. Pulls me from my dirty thoughts. “You’re not drinking?”
Does that bother her? Is she that insecure about her problem? “Not yet.” I turn to her. Offer my hand.
She shakes. “Last time—”
“It was a party.”
She nods it was. “I was out of line. But, uh—”
“We both had shit we had to say.”
“Yeah.” Her smile is soft. “Are you and Skye okay?” Her fingers brush my arm, over my suit cuff. Then the bare skin of my wrist.
“Yeah.”
“I hope I didn’t cause any conflict.”
I study her expression, trying to pick it apart. Does she mean it? Or is she secretly living to tear us apart?
Maybe she’s like me. Maybe she’s not over what happened.
Maybe she has an ugly part of herself she can’t control. She always did. She was always jealous of Skye.
It must kill her that we’re together. I don’t care how much she says she’s happy for me. I don’t buy it.
I know Mack. At least, I know who she used to be. That girl would be overflowing with jealousy. Even with her wedding tomorrow.
She just—
She could never quiet that voice.
I sympathize, I do. In the abstract. At the moment, it’s hard to feel anything but dull nausea.
“We worked it out upstairs.” I smile at my ex.
She laughs nervously. Turns to a passing waiter. Grabs two glasses of champagne.
My fingers brush hers as I take one. “Thanks.”
She takes a long sip. Swallows hard. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah?”
“After everything… this is a lot. I thought I’d see more people who knew me… who don’t think I’m some bitch who doesn’t appreciate her privilege. Who doesn’t realize she needs a real job.”
I wouldn’t say that. Or the opposite. She’s somewhere in between. “You support yourself?”
“Mostly.” Her eyes turn down. “Daddy helps with the rent sometimes. Diego is still getting his PhD, so he’s not—”
“He’ll be a biotech billionaire one day,” I say.
Her frown turns upside down. “Yeah. I hope so.” She takes a long sip. “That isn’t why I’m with him.”