"Well, Caleb sure as fuck meant it when he broke up with you. And I was fucking pissed when I found out you sent him that stupid dick pic." I jerked my arm out of her grip.
"You're not listening to me. James. I want him back and I'll do whatever I have to do—"
"Don't you get it, Janice? My brother is with Brooke now and he's in love with her," Winter said angrily from over my left shoulder. I hadn't even noticed her approach I was so busy trying to detach myself from all the crazy I'd stumbled into headfirst. How the fuck did I get tangled in with this shitshow tonight? All I wanted was to spend a nice evening with Winter. It was time to leave.
Jan's face twisted into an ugly mask of meanness as she directed her rage onto Winter. "Is James finally fucking you? It must be the trust fund he's after, because it's been years since you flashed him your baby tits in the pool."
"They aren't baby tits anymore." Nope. Definitely not. Winter held her composure like a pro, spine straight, her confident posture setting her tantalizing cleavage off to perfection. Her tits were an undisputable, straight-up ten—to anybody who wasn't blind…or insane.
Jan tilted her head to one side and rolled her eyes. "Oh my God, you mean he's never stuck his dick in you before now," she said, throwing her head back and laughing like a psychopath. "Better strap in, little girl, because he likes all the kinky, deviant shit from what I've heard—"
"We're done here," I said, grabbing Winter's hand and pulling her with me. "Jan, take your crazy out on someone else, and leave us all the fuck alone."
I didn't look back or wait for Jan to finish whatever she was going to say about me. I just moved us both away—and left the lunatic bitch standing in a roomful of Boston's high society mumbling some unintelligible bullshit about making everyone sorry.
What I needed was to put as much distance between her and us as quickly as fucking possible. I wouldn't ponder how she knew about me. Although the knowledge of my kink could have come to her from anywhere, it didn't make me any less mental about Winter finding out.
I forced myself to block out everything.
Even to the point that I didn't realize that Winter wasn't following along with my plan. In fact, she was doing the opposite, pulling back, and trying to get away from me.
"Let go of me."
I tightened my grip on her hand and then panicked for a second that maybe I was hurting her injured one.
I wasn't.
"What's wrong?"
She tried tugging her hand out of mine again, but I wasn't having it.
"I'm leaving. I'm going home," she said, flashing me an angry glare.
"Correction, sweetheart. We are leaving, and we are going home."
Her anger hadn't lessened since I'd bustled her out of the goddamn ball and into Enzo's heated limousine, where she now sat as far away from me as possible. I studied her fuming quietly in the seat, arms folded beneath luscious breasts as she stared moodily out the window. In profile, she made a stunning picture against the city lights reflecting off the tiny raindrops currently drifting from the night sky.
It had taken a few minutes to get away without arousing the suspicions of the eagle-eyed gossips, who lived for the soap-opera drama like what had unfolded inside with Jan Thorndike. It spiced up their otherwise very boring lives. But was "boring" such a terrible thing? Sometimes I wished for my own life to be a lot more boring than it was at present.
After placing my bid in the silent auction, I'd gone and made excuses to my mother. I lied and told her Winter had a bad headache. Mom didn't blink an eye at my lame explanation. She just offered her cheek for me to kiss and told me to take good care of her, and that she hoped Winter felt better soon.
I fished out my phone and took a picture of her staring out the window. She might be angry, but it was still a beautiful image I selfishly wanted to keep for myself.
"What the hell, James," she shouted when she noticed the flash.
"It's just a picture of you looking furiously beautiful. I wanted to capture the moment."
"Instead of stealing pictures and dropping compliments, you might start by being honest."
"I am always honest with you, Win."
She scoffed angrily toward the window but said nothing.
"Are you planning on explaining what you mean?"
She shook her head, still staring out the window.
"Okay, then tell me what the fuck I did tonight that was so wrong." No response. "How about you look at me when we are talking," I bit out, my frustration growing with each passing second of this stupid motherfucking argument.